#ill reblog this a few times since it's early

[cyberhunts]

like this post if you're interested in a dynamic with lockdown! mutuals only. i'll reach out to you so we can start plotting. this is not a shipping call.

[edelblau]

i'm going on vacation!

not right now, but in september, i plan to do a small trip for my birthday. i haven't done much in a long while due to disability and health issues, and in specific i havent gone on 'vacation' in over 5 years now. i desperately need some time to breath, so for my birthday, ill be taking a little trip to niagara which is a few hours away!

but of course, vacations take money, especially in areas that are known for being 'touristy', and while i have enough money saved to cover the concept of a vacation, there's limits to what i can do even so.

so, to maybe earn a little more funds, ive decided to do a small sale on ko-fi for 17% off commissions, (since my bday is on the 17th of september!). the code is 'BIRTHDAYBASH24', or applicable via the link below, active until septmeber 20th (expected vacation end date). i also will happily accept any donations to ko-fi or my paypal if you just wanna send out an early birthday gift!

as always promotions and reblogs mean a lot! commissions received closer to the date of the trip may take a bit longer, so please keep that in mind. thank you so much!

https://ko-fi.com/edelblau/link/BIRTHDAYBASH24

[diaryujin]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍

summary: Sunghoon has never felt any spark in his heart, none of that silly love he’s read about in novels in his free time. No one interested him, and it wasn’t like his father, the king, would let him have friends, male or female, for fear of being betrayed or developing feelings for them. He lived a life of isolation, excited for nothing – neither the idea of being married to a pretty princess nor becoming the next ruler of the Park kingdom. He most certainly did not expect you, his new guard, to change all that. He did not expect you to brighten his days and light up his heart.

includes: death, murder, war/battle, attempted murder (kinda), breaking in, royal au, romanticized medieval setting of sorts, forced marriage/proposal, a lot of time skips so it moves somewhat quickly, brief mention of a toxic ex, death by illness, joking mention of jumping off a balcony, blood, wounds, denial of death kinda, graves, lmk if i missed anything!

genre: angst

pairing: prince! sunghoon x guard! fem! reader

word count: 8.1k (woah)

taglist: @kflixnet @kpopslays @jvjsssnaa a/n: it’s finally here! i sacrificed sleep for this and i do not regret it at all. this fic has two milestones for me - being my longest fic + a fic i’m kinda proud of. i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it <3

PLEASE REBLOG/COMMENT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS FIC 🫶

Sunghoon was reading over some papers pertaining to the kingdom’s matters when he heard a knock on the door.

“Enter.”

One of the guards came in, before bowing upon seeing him.

“Sire, his Majesty wishes to see you.”

He nodded and set the papers in a neat stack. He then put them in a drawer and locked it for security. He then stood up and followed the guard, maintaining a neutral expression.

His mind was working much faster than normal though.

His father was very strict, and the slightest mistake meant an extremely harsh lecture. He flicked through his memories, trying to remember what he could have done wrong, and what he should say as his apology. 

He pursed his lips as a thought crossed his mind - was his recent trip to the colder regions made known to his father? He had gone for administrative work, but he couldn’t resist spending some time there ice skating, which the king always considered useless since it benefited only the person skating, not the country. He had done his best to keep it under wraps, but maybe one of the guards reported this to the king. Damn it.

He mentally slapped himself for using such crude language. Those were the words of peasants and did not suit a prince like him. Holy moly…buckling barnacles, great heavens…such lengthy words to express frustration, he thought. ‘Damn it’ was only two syllables.

As he snapped out of his reverie, he entered the Throne Room. His father was seated on the grand throne at the end of the airy space. The seats where the ministers sat were empty. Court was always in the morning, and it was probably lunchtime by now - the prince wasn’t sure. 

He stood a few feet away from his father. The guard bowed and left, and Sunghoon made eye contact with the old man in front of him. He didn’t seem angry, so the younger relaxed a bit, letting out a sigh.

“Why have you called me here, father?”

“I’ve received some proposals from other kings. They’ve sent me paintings of their daughters. A lovely selection of princesses, I must say.”

Sunghoon had to physically hold himself back from rolling his eyes.

“Father, I’ve already told you this. I am not ready for marriage and I am not interested in this topic.”

“Yes, but it’s good to start early. Maybe you’ll change your mind after-”

“I’m sorry to interrupt you Father, but why have you actually summoned me?”

The king narrowed his eyes at his son but didn’t say anything more about the topic.

“Well, I’ve decided to get you a personal guard. There have been many threats of attacks on the palace, so it’s better to take this precaution.”

“Interesting. Will he be with me all the time or-”

“She.”

“What?”

“Your guard is a female.”

To say he was shocked was the understatement of the century. His father? Hiring a woman? As his bodyguard? What if he-

“Are you serious?” “Yes. She is very capable and I’m sure she will protect and serve you well. I trust you to keep your relationship with her strictly professional.”

It wasn’t like he knew how to have a non-professional relationship with anyone outside of his family anyway.

“Yes, Father. Will she be with me at all times?”

“Indeed she will, except for when you are sleeping. At that time, she will stand outside your door and guard you.” “What about her food and sleep?”

“That is not your concern.”

“But-”

“Silence!”

He immediately bowed his head slightly as a sign of remorse for stepping out of line. This was going to be interesting, he thought. He had little to no interaction with women outside of his mother and sister, and the small talk he made with princesses and duchesses of other kingdoms was always awkward. Now he was having someone of the opposite gender, a woman, watching over him nearly 24/7.

He slowed down his train of thought. Why was he thinking like a teenage boy ogling over a girl? He was the crown prince, he was better than that. It was going to be a new experience, that was all.

“May I meet her now?”

“Of course. She’s arriving as we speak.”

Just then, the door opened, and you entered, a male soldier on either side. Sunghoon’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, but nothing came out of it. 

He was having a cultural shock of sorts. All the women he had met were all dainty, graceful and poised - the epitome of perfection. You, on the other hand, had an air of authority about you — rough and firm. A few scars were on your face, probably from battle. You bowed the full 90 degrees, and he could only respond with a small nod.

Oh fuck, you were gorgeous.

And he used foul language again. Stupid Sunghoon, he reprimanded himself.

He didn’t take back what he said, however. Your beauty wasn’t the type written in books or sung in ballads, but it had to be known to the world, somehow. He was almost tempted to write one himself. 

Hold on, why was he thinking all this? His father had just told him to not think anything about you that crossed the lines of professional, and thinking about how pretty you were was not within those lines.

“This is your new personal guard, Y/N.”

You came over to him and bowed again, although at a smaller angle than before.

“N…Nice to meet you, Y-Y/N.”

Did he just stutter?!

“It is an honor, my prince. I swear to serve you to the best of my abilities.”

“I’m sure you will.”

He managed a small, formal smile, looking completely pleasant and unfazed.

Which he very much was not. He wanted to jump off the nearest balcony when you said ‘my prince’. He didn’t know why - you weren’t the only one who addressed him in that manner. You might’ve even learned it from someone in the palace, so why was he so hot and bothered with the way you said it?

“Your duties start today, guard.”

“Yes, your Majesty. I will not let you down.”

He was going crazy. You were just his new guard. Nothing less, nothing more. He would just have to rein in his thoughts and get it all together. Not a difficult task at all.

As you stood behind him as he walked through the kingdom’s streets a week later, he seemed to keep a little distance from you, which was unsafe. Anything could happen within a few meters.

“My prince, you must slow your pace.”

He turned his face to look at you as he stopped walking.

“Oh? Why is that?”

“There’s a gap between us, and anyone could attack you with that.”

“Ah. I see. In that case…you can walk next to me. Or something.”

You stood next to him now. He quickly looked at the fruits a vendor was selling, trying his best to avert his gaze so that you wouldn’t see his reddening cheeks. It was unknown to him as to why he was so flustered. You were only doing your job, and that was it.

“Our kingdom seems to produce good crops.”

“Indeed they do, my prince. The farmer and the cultivators work very hard. It always seems to go unnoticed for some damn reason, though.”

He heard the angry tone in your voice and the curse word you said. This seemed to be a sore topic for you. He was curious, so he decided to ask more.

“What do you suggest, then?”

“We export more crops so that they get more revenue and in turn, they get paid as well. Increase the demand.”

You shrugged before turning your attention to a little kid who was clinging to your leg. You leaned down and patted his head, smiling a bit. The kid laughed and ran away. Sunghoon watched this interaction with interest and it dawned upon him that you cared about the people and their welfare, like a good ruler. 

Wait, why was he thinking about you being a ruler? You were only a soldier, and with the hierarchy now, there wasn’t much chance you could become more.

It did make him wonder, however, what you would do if the people rebelled. He shook his head, not wanting to think so dark. Your suggestion was smart, though. It made more sense the more he pondered over it. He’d mention this to the old man and see what he’d say.

“Shall we move on, guard?”

You stood up properly before nodding.

“Yes, my prince. Apologies for slowing you down.”

He dismissed you with a wave of his hand.

“Nothing of the sort. Come, let’s go.”

You both continued your stroll and for some reason, his heart was beating very unnaturally. He only had this issue when he was agitated, but there was no reason for him to be scared now, so why was this happening?

It had only been two months since you became his personal guard, yet you were his closest and most trusted friend. He took all your ideas seriously and told them to the king who somehow accepted them, and called him ‘ingenious’ for supposedly coming up with them. He hated taking false credit, but he knew that he couldn’t tell his father that you were the mastermind of them all — he would then question Sunghoon as to why he was talking to them in the first place, which would lead to you being removed from your post and replaced with a boring male soldier. 

He didn’t want to lose you, not when he finally found a change in his monotonous life, someone to brighten his dull days, someone to call a friend, even though it was only known to the both of you and no one else. He couldn’t bear to have you gone.

He was sitting underneath a tree, looking up at the sky in the comfort of the gardens reserved for his family and visitors alone. His father never came here out of his own accord - he always considered it a waste of time. His mother was in her room, and her sister was in another kingdom discussing alliances. This was a moment very rare, just you and him, with no one to interrupt or catch you two slacking. 

You were sitting next to him, only a few inches away. The wind was blowing gently on his face. He closed his eyes and smiled, inhaling and exhaling deeply. Your presence next to him was oddly comforting. He opened his eyes again, turned his head, and looked at you, wanting to ask you something. 

“Guard, you know how I always give your suggestions to the king and how he always says ‘I’ did a good job thinking about them?”

Your face tightened the same way it did every time he took credit for your ideas in front of his father. He sighed.

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, I wanted to apologize for that.”

You tilted your head at him, clearly not understanding two things - why he was suddenly saying sorry, and how you doing that simple thing made him go insane. You took over him, body and soul. All he could think of when he tried to sleep was you. It was just two months. Two months, and he was already attached to you. He was convinced, however, that it wasn’t love or anything stupid like that. No, it was simply him forming a close connection to the first person who cared about him. Not everything was romantic affection. He had never tasted this emotion, obviously, but he’d say that he knew enough about it to confirm this wasn’t it.

“Why now, my prince? I’m sorry- I just didn’t expect you to, y’know…actually apologize. Never met a royal who’s done so. They’re all usually stuck-up snobs who think their shit is worth the entire kingdom.”

He snorted at that. It wasn’t like you were wrong, most of the royals he met were indeed very arrogant. He didn’t dare anything about it though, simply doing his best to not behave like them.

“It’s not right of me to take credit for something I don’t even have the brain for. I don’t mention your name for your security. If my father knew I was talking to you about matters like these, then…”

He made a motion of him cutting his own throat, complete with the sound effect. You grinned a bit, which was enough for him to be over the moon, but then you laughed. Not just a ‘teehee’ or a ‘haha’ - an actual, proper laugh. His heart swelled, maybe his jokes didn’t suck that much. Your laugh was indescribable. It was a delightful sound to listen to. It was short, but he wanted to hear it every day at least once for the rest of his life instead of those ballads that were sung in the court all the time. 

The way your eyes formed crescents, the way your face was half in the light and half in the shadow, the way the wind put an orange leaf in your hair like it was an accessory - it was making him sick in a good way. He rarely saw you smile, let alone laugh like this. He knew that you had to keep your expression serious all the time - all the soldiers had that training - and this was a proud moment for him to see you loosen up. He couldn’t help the small smile on his own face.

“My prince, is he really that harsh? I’m aware that he is super damn strict to us soldiers, but that’s expected since we have to be toughened up to protect the land.”

His smile faded before he shook his head in agreement.

“I’d say so. It’s for my good- I am the next in line, after all.”

“I don’t think forcing your child to have no friends is how you raise him to be king. He won’t know how to have proper social interactions.”

There you were again, hitting the mark accurately with your observation. He sucked at interacting with other people. Slowly, he was starting to dislike his father more. The faults he never saw in him earlier were becoming visible, the saint-like image he had of the king since childhood fading away. Was this meant to happen? He wasn’t sure.

“Right. I’m living proof.”

You shook your head in alarm.

“Oh shit- please don’t be offended by my idiotic statement, my prince…I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, really-”

He chuckled at how you were panicking and made a motion with his hand for you to calm down.

“It’s okay. I didn’t take it that way.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

He saw your body relax as he rested his head against the bark of the tree again. He gazed at the sky, eyes fixated on the clouds and the way they moved in the direction of the breeze. Two questions lingered in his mind, and his mouth suddenly blurted one out.

“Do you ever sleep?”

It was random, sure, but he had to know. He was concerned for you. He never saw you leave his side, except for when he was asleep, and he already knew what you did then. You were still staring at him, but he didn’t notice.

“I do. I’m a normal person, my prince, I can’t function without food and rest. That’s impossible.”

“When?”

You let out a slight laugh at his curiosity, and his heart started pounding faster again.

“You don’t notice, do you? That means I’m performing the stealth part of my job well. When you’re in the dining room or a meeting surrounded by the best soldiers. That’s when. I also don’t stand watch for you every night. I alternate with another guard.”

His mouth formed an ‘o’ shape in understanding. He didn’t notice it at all, which meant that either you were a master of stealth, as you said, or he was just blind. It was most likely the former since he had no doubt in your abilities.

“I see. I was very worried for you, honestly.”

“I’m honored that I was an object of your concern, my prince.”

He scoffed at your slightly surprised expression. 

“Of course, I would. You’re my personal guard, what reason is there for me to treat you inhumanly?”

That stupid fucking slip of his tongue.

Shit, he just cursed.

Damn it, again.

His tutor and family would go crazy if they could read his thoughts.

Of course he had to refer to you as his, like you were property. Of course he had to emphasize on that word as well. You were making him loosen up too much. It shouldn’t have happened, not at all. He couldn’t continue like this, what if he accidentally cursed in front of people? He would never be heard of again.

“I’d say I had expected that, but you’re different from other royals, so not really.”

“I understand. Also, you don’t have to call me ‘my prince’ when we’re alone. Just Sunghoon is enough.”

Your eyes widened in astonishment.

“My prince, I wouldn’t dare to-”

“Really guard. It’s fine.”

“But his Majesty-”

“He doesn’t have to know. Our secret.”

“If you say so…it’ll take me time to get used to calling you by your name, princ- I mean, Sunghoon.”

“Already getting there.”

“I guess so. In that case, you can call me by just my name. No need for ‘guard’.”

“Your wish is my command, Y/N.”

This was new. Not referring to someone by their title was disrespectful. He learned from a ripe young age that if he didn’t call someone by their title, he could end up with his head on a guillotine block in some places. Were you seriously making all his long years of education unravel? Silence fell upon the two of you before he spoke up again.

“What do you think love is like?”

You must’ve been taken aback, and he expected to see such an expression on your face. Instead, when he stole a glance at you, it was something else. Wistful? Longing? He couldn’t name it exactly.

“Books don’t give it justice. Neither do ballads. It’s…more than that.”

He was intrigued by your response. He raised an eyebrow, signalling you to continue.

“Oh? You’ve been in love before?”

You stared at him, a sad smile forming on your lips, a look flashing in your eyes. One of remorse, he recognized.

“Yeah. It was depressingly…beautiful.”

His chest tightened at your words for some reason.

“Heartbreak?”

“Kind of. We fought a lot…our personalities were very different. Then when we finally reconciled…he died. An illness took him away.”

Your eyes were filled with so much hurt, it almost made him cry. This was his first time seeing you emotional, vulnerable, and while he was honored that you trusted him enough to show you this side of yours, he wondered how much you were hiding away. All he wanted was to protect you so that you would never have to go through something as painful as that. He made a resolve to make sure that he was never the cause of the agony in your eyes.

“I’m so sorry that happened.”

“It’s fine. It was just- unexpected. It’s been a year anyway.”

“I hope this doesn’t bring back memories you buried, but…how would you describe love?”

You rested your chin on your palm, thinking for a bit.

“Love isn’t only about the physical signs. For me, love is always wanting to be by someone’s side, being so head over heels for them that even the littlest things like…I don’t know, something stupid, makes you remember them. It’s being their biggest supporter, but also telling them when they’re wrong. Love is wanting to keep them safe from all the bad in this world. It’s when even the simplest thing they do brightens your day, like a smile or a small act of kindness. Love is when you put their needs and wants above everything and everyone else. There’s obviously more, but that’s my personal experience.”

Holy moly. Sunghoon was in love.

He was in love. That emotion many desired to feel at least once. All his previous notions and confidence about it being platonic flew out the window. He very clearly did not learn enough about this feeling. He didn’t know whether he wanted to be happy that he could say he had loved once in his life, or scream in frustration that he fell for someone out of his league and not some princess who he was supposed to want like this.

God, he hated himself.

“Pri- Sunghoon, are you okay?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He couldn’t let you know, he was a hundred percent sure that you didn’t feel the same. Plus, he was the prince, and if you both were caught, it would mean bad for him and catastrophic for you.

“I’m fine. Come, let’s go. We might get caught if we stay any longer.”

He stood up immediately. You were confused but followed his orders. What he said, you obeyed.

It had been eight months since you became his personal guard, and half a year since he realized that he was in love with you. He tried to distance himself, but one look or word from you and his resolve faltered. He was so deep in this pit, and he didn’t know whether he wanted to dig deeper or climb out. He wanted you to stay away and he also loved the way you destroyed every single one of the walls he built around himself subconsciously. 

He matured, and he was no longer the shy boy who didn’t know how to talk to someone of the opposite gender. He was a confident and charming crown prince now, the man of many’s dreams. You were the only one on his mind though. 

His father was now eager to get him married off, and he had to comply with his wishes, He was no longer the king who served the people anymore - he was corrupted, only thinking about power. Sunghoon did his best to undo the damage inflicted on the population, but the situation was getting tense, and he knew it. Rebels were raising their heads and it was his job to keep them in check. It was difficult, but you helped him through it.

Presently, he was sitting in the dining room with his family, the king, queen, princess, and officials of the Hwan kingdom. This was the proposal his father liked the most because the Hwan kingdom was rich in resources, and this alliance hidden as a marriage would give the Parks access to those coveted precious stones. He was hoping, however, that the other king would say no for some reason and he’d be free.

He had no interest in the princess, however. She was too boring for him. They had zero common likes, and the only thing they related to each other on was the struggles of being next in line. This was probably the worst match he had ever met. She seemed like she wanted this much less than he did. She was at least trying, he had to give her that.

You stood behind him on his right side. He so desperately wanted to turn around and see your reaction to all this. Your face had to have no expression now, obviously, but you both shared secret looks with each other in odd situations, and he was sure you’d find this amusing. The chatter across the table died down suddenly, and all the attention was on the two kings in the room.

“We’ve agreed on this marriage. Prince Sunghoon and Princess Hyeju are now betrothed!”

Sunghoon’s hands, which were tapping the table, stilled. He froze in shock, every voluntary muscle in his body stopping movement.

No, this couldn’t happen.

This was a nightmare, a terrible dream. He pinched his thigh underneath the table and ended up proving to his dismay that he was wrong.

This was the worst day of his life.

His father droned on about the details of the wedding. He tuned it all out. He tilted his head just a little to see your face and noticed that you were gripping your spear much tighter than necessary. You knew that he didn’t want this, not at all. Maybe you were angry on his behalf.

He couldn’t do anything about this, however. This was just his fate, and he resigned to it immediately. 

The meeting ended, and everyone, including Sunghoon, stood up and exited the room. You followed him as he went straight to the gardens to clear his head. His family would be occupied with entertaining the guests and making more plans, so it was just you and him. Again.

He sat in his usual spot underneath the same tree. He buried his face in his hands, frustrated. He heard the sound of you sitting down next to him, before feeling your hand lightly grip his shoulder.

“Hey, Sunghoon?”

“You don’t have to say anything. It’s fine.”

“I know how much you don’t want this. Trust me, I don’t want it either.”

The second sentence was uttered in a more quiet voice, and he moved his hands away from his face to look at you in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

Your lips formed a thin line, your body language making it clear that you were saying this with hesitation.

“I don’t want you to marry her.”

You removed your hand from his shoulder. You looked down at the grass, fresh and green from the new spring season.

“Why? I mean- other than me not wanting it personally, there’s no reason you should hate it…this is an amazing opportunity for the people and the kingdom! We will prosper-”

“Fuck the people and the kingdom- I want you, dumbass.”

His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped.

“What…do you mean.”

“I love you really badly. That’s what I mean.”

He couldn’t believe it. You, the very person he always desired desperately, his forbidden fruit, loved him back? Wanted him? This wasn’t real. He must’ve been knocked out after the marriage announcement and slipped into a pleasant dream.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You want me to prove it?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t know what to expect, but you grabbing his face and crashing your lips on his was the farthest from his vague idea of what might happen. 

It lasted for a few seconds before you pulled away suddenly. You noticed his dazed expression and started to panic.

“Shit, shouldn’t have done that, please don’t kill me, I-”

Your voice snapped him out of his haze before he placed his hand on your waist and pulled you in for another kiss. His hand tucked one strand of hair behind your ear and you melted into the action, calming down instantly. He was so gentle, so careful, he was holding you like you were a delicate object that was to be treated with utmost care at all times. When you both parted, his face wore a lovesick smile, his eyes sparkling like stars.

“I feel the same.”

“Yeah, it was obvious.”

He chuckled at your comment, before frowning. 

“You know this is dangerous, right? We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Your shoulders slumped at his words, knowing that he was completely correct.

“I do. I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess. I just didn’t…know how to tell you.”

He shook his head. To him, you could do no wrong. It was his fault. He should have gotten rid of you so that he could nip the blooming flower in his heart from the bud. He shouldn’t have been such a coward.

“I understand what you mean now. I don’t know how to stop it, though.”

“That’s…fine. Just knowing you feel the same is enough for me.”

It wasn’t. Neither for you, neither for him, and you both knew that. The fact that he couldn’t be yours and you couldn’t be his simply because of both of your duties was like a nasty, sharp torn ledged in the soft flesh of his heart. You and him were not meant to be. Your romance was only a fantasy, to be never fulfilled.

“Precisely. This is all it’ll ever be.”

It was night. He had one week until his wedding with the Hwan princess, and he was dreading it. Seeing your face became unbearable for him sometimes — you reminded him that he had everything a commoner could only dream of, but even the poorest of poor could love and he couldn’t. He was ready to throw his entire life away and disappear with you, but his fear of what would happen next to the country held him back. 

He stared out the window in his bedroom which gave him a perfect view of the private gardens. The place where it all started and ended. The moonlight shone on the trees and flowers, giving it a peaceful aura, different from the cheery one it had in the daytime. Even in the comfort of his silk night clothes and soft blankets, he was in a state of unrest. He wanted to run, wanted to be free, wanted, wanted, wanted. He lay down, resting his head on his pillow as he waited for sleep to find him while he closed his eyes. Thankfully, the night was kind to him, and he dozed off almost instantly.

Sunghoon was rudely woken up by you frantically shaking his figure, pleading with you to wake up. When he came to his senses, he heard alarms sounding in the palace and immediately understood that it was an emergency, although what might’ve exactly happened was beyond him.

“Y/N, Y/N, I’m up. What’s going on?”

He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and slapping his face for good measure.

“Rebels. Come, we need to run.”

The first word was enough for him to be fully alert. He foresaw them coming, so it wasn’t a big shocker for him. He put on his slippers and looked at you with determination. He was actually trying to mask his fear, but you didn’t need to know that. You grabbed his arm and ran out of the room. He was a bit startled at your speed at first, but quickly matched your pace. When you both reached a corridor, you slowed down, wanting to be careful of surprise attacks.

“Hide your face to the best of your ability. I’m not sure if they’ll recognize you in non-prince clothes, but it’s better to be safe. They’ll aim for me instead since I have the palace uniform.”

His chest tightened. You were ready to give up your life for his. He knew that was protocol for all soldiers - royals over their own lives. He knew, but you were different. He didn’t want you to die, he couldn’t imagine a life without you. You were his oxygen, he’d suffocate if you were gone.

Suddenly, he noticed a flash of light. He heard a whoosh and he saw the way your hair moved in the direction of the sound. He assumed it was a gust of air along with the lights of the palace shining weirdly, but then he looked at the wall in front of him and realized what it was - an arrow. It was embedded in said wall, and you had missed it by a hair’s breath. Literally. It had scratched your face, but other than that, you were fine.

You pulled him down to remain on the floor, before you stood up and ran to the rebel that shot it, your hands gripping your sword tight. You engaged in combat with her. She was rather buff, and even though she only had a bow and an arrow holder on her, she was slowly gaining ground in the fight. She was blocking your thrusts with her bow, catching your moves with its string. She landed a harsh blow on your chest, and he gritted his teeth seeing your sharp flinch. He had to do something and fast.

He crawl-walked across the floor, making sure to stay unnoticed. He moved to stand behind the rebel before forcefully grabbing her neck. She was gagged, and the sudden lack of air caught her off guard. You took the opportunity and struck her in the heart, and he let go of her. 

You both ran off, eager to get to the safe room specially built for situations like this. Barely some distance away, he raised his head, neck aching from the constant strain, when you suddenly pushed him to the ground and covered his mouth with your hand. He was about to protest, feeling kind of hot and bothered with his position, but then he decided against it. You definitely did this for a reason, and he could repress his feelings for a while.

Your head turned as you stared at a rebel passing by, praying he wouldn’t notice you both. He was blind to your movement thankfully, and as soon as he left, you got off of Sunghoon, pulled him up, and ran. You pushed the door of the safe room which was behind a cupboard open with your shoulder, and he then realized that he was the first one to reach. The door closed, and he glanced at you, relief and gratitude clear in his eyes. 

You gave him a thumbs up and turned to leave to assist the other soldiers with getting the rest of his family to the room when he suddenly grabbed your wrist. You looked at him with confusion, and you opened your mouth to ask him what he was doing when he placed his lips on yours. You let out a soft gasp when he held you closer, one arm around your waist, the other hand on your back, holding you close. This wasn’t like the last time you kissed — this was desperate, filled with emotion. He let go of you too soon, eyes shining with tears. 

You both knew that there was a chance you wouldn’t come back to him, and this could be the last time he saw you.

You squeezed his hand in an attempt to reassure him. He just nodded at the door, knowing that you had your duty. You bowed and left as he watched you in fear, praying that you’d make it.

After the attack by the rebels, there were always new questions about the palace’s security floating around. Quite a few lives were lost. None of them were you or his family, but Sunghoon still grieved for them mentally. He couldn’t imagine the agony their families must’ve been going through, and he managed to convince his father to give all the deceased’s close relatives compensation. 

The wedding was called off for now, much to his delight and his father’s despair. The old man had accused him of doing something to sabotage it, but he had grown a thicker skin, thanks to you. All efforts were now being put into strengthening the forces of the kingdom, and the actual matters of state were being ignored. This would lead to more rebellion, but his father didn’t seem to care. At this rate, he could die if he stepped out of the palace grounds — the people hated him that much. Sunghoon was already preparing to become the next ruler since that future would become a reality pretty soon. 

A surprise attack was inevitable, but he didn’t expect the aggressor to be the damn Hwan kingdom.

They must’ve heard about the damage inflicted on the palace from spies and knew that the Park kingdom would be focusing its efforts on repairing it, thus taking advantage of the situation. It was smart of king Hwan, Sunghoon would give him that.

He rode his horse while inspecting the soldiers preparing for battle. None of them were properly ready for this. Many veteran soldiers were on break and were called back suddenly. They all did come, and he was grateful to them for that, even when they had the right to refuse. The troops were arranging their positions quickly, and a little bit of his anxiety relaxed. Their army was strong, they could face this.

As he rode back, he saw his father, who was seething with rage at being betrayed, Sunghoon’s brain was in overdrive. Many of these brave soldiers would sacrifice their body and soul for a stupid fight that wouldn’t bring much to the land that could have been easily prevented. He knew it would happen, but didn’t do anything that was enough to fix it. He couldn’t keep falling short of what was necessary, that wasn’t what a future king would do. 

Not wanting to talk to the old man, he rode a little further where you were on your own horse, surveying the battlefield. He relaxed a bit more upon seeing you and moved to be next to you.

“This will be a tough fight, Sunghoon.”

“I hope it remains a fight that ends today and not a war that stretches over days.”

“Where we are victorious.”

“Obviously.”

“My- Sunghoon, what will you do in case your father…is killed?”

The slip-up and the way ‘my Sunghoon’ rolled off your tongue so perfectly made him miss your actual question for a moment. He let out a soft giggle, before manning up to think. He hadn’t considered that possibility at all. If that happened, then he would automatically become the next king. He’d rule the land and hopefully lead better than the previous king and his reign would be peaceful. He’d make sure of that.

“Be the next ruler, of course. I’d promote you to my personal advisor.”

You cracked a small smile at that.

“Not enough brain. Plus, what if I don’t make it?”

“Won’t happen. You’re too sexy to die. Your abilities are top tier too, you’ll survive.”

You laughed now, and he smiled fully at you. This was a situation unheard of — right before a whole battle, he was here flirting with you and laughing. So very serious. 

He leaned his head closer to yours, hair falling over his eyes. They were pleading silently with you to steal one last kiss, one last secret gesture of love before you both left to fight, one last chance to hold you. You shortened the gap, about to comply, when the war horn sounded, signaling the start of the battle. He frowned, angry at the lost chance, but quickly kissed your forehead. You pecked his cheek in return, before putting on your helmet and riding off. 

The sound of hooves hitting the ground and the sight of dust flying from them brought him back into the moment, and he rode in the same direction as his own army, intending to lead the fight. His father was weak and made dumb decisions, so it was up to him. He moved directly to the frontlines, pulling out his sword from its hilt as an enemy soldier charged at him. He fought with ease, and soon a dead body was on the ground.

He should have been desensitized now upon seeing gore and corpses, but it still disgusted him. He gritted his teeth and averted his gaze as he parried with more enemies. Soldiers were dropping left and right from both sides. Blood splatters were on his own face from fighting so fiercely. It was a miracle that he was still standing with only minor injuries, the Hwan soldiers were vigorous. 

Time was passing quickly, although for him it felt like an eternity. He just wanted to go back after all this ended. He didn’t care if he had to marry the Hwan princess, all he wanted was for this bloodshed to end. The sound of arrows being shot, horses neighing, grunts of hurt and dying soldiers — it was all too much for him.

All of a sudden, a more experienced soldier was attacking him, he could tell by the moves. His entire focus was on fighting back because this guy could actually kill him, that much was clear. He didn’t notice the other soldier charging towards him from his left with a spear until he heard a clang. 

His eyes darted in the direction of the sound for a second, only to see you had blocked the attack and thrown the soldier off his horse. He was impressed and inspired by you, and with renewed strength, he killed the veteran. He gave you a thumbs up, before looking to his right as someone else ran to replace the deceased soldier. He was ready to fight that person and everyone else with you and for you.

Then, tragedy struck.

An arrow was heading in his direction. Occupied with the current fight he was in, Sunghoon was in no position to dodge it, and you took the blow. Pushing his horse with your own, the arrow lodged in your chest instead. The only reason he noticed it was because of the sound of pain you made. He finished off the man fighting him, and then turned his head to look at you. Your head was drooping slightly and your grip on the reins of your horse had faltered.

No, no, no, this can’t happen!

You were supposed to stay with him, you were supposed to be by his side forever, he was supposed to get more chances to love you, even in secret, not just lose you like this.

He immediately shoved his sword back in its hilt before grabbing your torso to steady you. You were very faintly there, you just had to keep going a bit more for him, and he knew you could.

“Y/N, hold on, okay? Don’t close your eyes, please.”

“Try…ing.”

Fuck, your voice was so weak, you really were trying. He’d end your suffering soon, he promised silently.

Coincidentally, the war horn sounded once more, signifying the end of the battle. It was his kingdom’s, which meant he had won, just like you wanted. 

But you weren’t conscious enough to realize it.

He promptly sat you on his horse in front of him, one arm around your waist holding you close and tight. He galloped fast to the palace medic, the best one in the entire region. He ignored the weird looks and the shouts of his name, traveling with urgency. He had to move fast for your sake, and also for his own. He’d lose his shit if you…no. You weren’t going to, he was sure of it.

“Try to not focus on the pain, we’re almost there.”

That was stupid advice, but he had to say something, anything to save him.

“This doctor will fix you up, I swear. Just- don’t give up yet, Y/N. I beg of you. It’s all I’ll ask for this badly from you.”

Your head was now tilted back, and it rested on his right shoulder. You opened your eyes slightly to look at him, which he took as a good sign.

Then you spoke.

“I won’t…won’t make it. It’s…no point…denying it…my…Hoon, I…love you.”

At your words, Sunghoon’s lips formed a thin line as he squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds to force his tears to stay back. He could feel the blood running from your wound and collecting onto the sleeve of his suit, but he refused to accept it. You would make it, you couldn’t die.

“Shut-Shut up. You’re not dying, not when I’m here. Look, we’ve reached- you’ll be okay, I swear.”

He got off the horse, your limp body in his arms bridal style.

He wished he could be holding you like this in a different, more happier situation.

The doctor rushed out of her house and knew that it was urgent upon seeing the prince at her door. She took you in and he waited outside, pacing around nervously. He was so certain you’d survive, but the wound could be a major setback for the rest of your life. He’d have to make adjustments to accommodate you at the palace. He wouldn’t mind though, it was for you after all.

The doctor came out after a few minutes, and he waited for her to say something along the lines of ‘she survived, but ___’. Not to see her shake her head with a soft sigh. 

“I’m sorry. She didn’t make it. She was gone when you came here. We tried our best, but…the arrow was poison tipped, which reduced her chances of surviving to zero.”

No. No no no no no. This lady was old and wrinkling, she was probably cuckoo and playing an unfunny prank on him.

“Can I see her? Alone?”

“Of course, sire.”

He rushed inside immediately, expecting to see you on the bed bandaged up and smiling at how well the prank worked on him-

She was right. You really were gone. You took your last breath in his arms. Your arms rested limply by your sides. The arrow was removed, but the blood stains were on your armor as evidence that the fatal injury did indeed happen. Useful reminder for a delusional ass like his. Your helmet was off your head now.

He sat down on a chair next to your bed and held one of your hands gingerly. It was already turning cold, and he hated it. He felt freshly made cuts and bruises along with older scars on your palm. His gaze fell on your face. The scratch you got from the rebel’s ambush was still partially healing. He took in your features with intense concentration, engraving them in his memory. He despised the fact that you looked so much at peace right now – when you just left his entire life in turmoil. He needed so badly to shake you back to life or something, but he knew that there was no point now. He lifted your hand up to his lips, kissing it in a tender manner, a weak replacement for the one you both missed maybe an hour or two before. 

Just when he let go of your hand, the doctor rushed in with news.

“Sire, his majesty has passed away due to a…similar poisonous arrow shortly after victory.”

Both the people he knew wanted to win the most were dead just after it happened. Ironic, he thought - this was worthless now.

King Sunghoon walked through the cemetery for soldiers who had sacrificed their lives for the country. He stopped right in front of one which had many flower bouquets, a lot of them from his own previous visits, all of them your favorite flowers. He got on his knees on the right side of your gravestone, head bowed in respect and hands folded in his lap.

“Hello, Y/N. I know I’ve come to see you many times before, but I can’t help it. I miss you so much. You left too soon. I still believe that I should have taken that arrow instead of you…although it was for the better in hindsight. At least your last memory was of me and your pain ended quickly.”

Silence. He quickly wiped his eyes.

“I love you, Y/N. I still do, so much. I should move on by now, but it’s hard. Not when you meant so much to me, not when you changed me. A little for the worse, mostly for the better.”

He laughed dryly, looking at his hands. An expensive ring gleamed on his ring finger.

“I married a queen who I liked a lot. Not the Hwan princess, although she and I keep in touch often. We’re allies now. Kind of ironic, since I lost you and the old man in a war against that same kingdom’s old ruler.”

He wasn’t willing to let himself break, what if someone walked in on him sobbing over a dead soldier's grave? What would they think? He poked his eyes with his fingers, still in misery. No matter how much he tried, everything in his brain led back to you. While he didn’t want you to fade or leave his mind exactly, you were only meant to be a guest, visiting occasionally, not a permanent resident, not someone he still needed. When he calmed down, he quietly lifted his crown off his head and put it on top of your gravestone. He placed a solemn hand on it, closing his eyes. “This is a love stained crown, tainted with you and I, along with all our memories. Your affection will never wash away, no matter how much I try. I miss you and I love you, and I hope you’re doing better, wherever you are.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

I Knew You Were Trouble When You Walked In 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, medical procedures including dialysis and chronic illness, dry humping, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Pete Brenner, short!reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Before you depart, you leave an extra tip at the counter. The owner was more helpful than he needed to be. You feel indebted.

As you go out into the street, you give a long glance in each direction. You're paranoid even after the hours that passed since the unwelcome encounter. It's not just that one time, it's that this guy keeps popping up.

You walk the block warily, checking over your shoulder every few steps. Your building is quiet now that the maintenance is done, at least for the day. You go up to your apartment and drop your bag by the door.

What a long, strange day. Still, you got a lot of work done. You can just relax. You have another appointment tomorrow and that will be less than soothing.

You go to the bedroom and pull out a set of pajamas. You change a piece at a time, stretching as fatigue knots your muscles. You pull up the shorts as a shadow flickers by the window. You turn, finding nothing but the dimming sky and the rattling fire escape.

You don't think much of it. The wind often shakes the metal ladder and your apartment never quite gets the full shine of daylight. You grab your laptop and turn on the same show you've been marathoning for almost a week. You nestle into bed and yawn, even if it is a bit early to turn in.

You try to unwind and let go of the stress needling in your temples. You close your eyes, the heaviness less crushing, more hypnotizing. It drags you down even as the tension longers in your body.

You dream of the cafe and its moody owner, the other man like a shadow outside the window, the ambience overcast and sinister. At the edge of your subconscious is the glare of the laptop screen, the garbled audio skewing to a hum. A cool flow washes over you and sends a shiver up your spine.

You rouse slightly, enough to pull the top of the quilt to your chest. You hug the patchwork and grumble as you roll onto your side. You seal your eyelids and cling to the sleep that weighs on your lashes. The blackness slowly spreads and all at once splinters as your name gristles into your ear.

Your eyes snap open to darkness. Your laptop is closed and set on your night table. There's a weight over you that suggests more than a blanket. You feel something wiggle under your side and realise an arm is hooked around you, their hand tucked beneath you.

You go rigid and inhale, ready to scream your lungs out. The hand swiftly slides free and smothers your voice. You whimper and squirm against the intruder.

“You know, sweetheart, I just wanted to talk…” his nose brushes along the shell of your ear, his damp breath on your nape.

You whine and grab at his hand desperately. How did he find you? Jow did he get in here? This has to be a nightmare!

He hushes you and nuzzles your hair. He presses a kiss to the back of your head and growls. He wiggles even closer to you, rolling his hips against you.

“Now I don't feel like talking,” he snarls.

Your eyes gloss as his strength traps you. You don't understand. What did you do to deserve this? Why does he care so much?

“You know what I feel like?” He rasps, rocking against you as his breath shudders with his fervent motion, “I feel like holding you down and seeing if the rest of you still works.”

You squeak as you claw at his thick wrist. Your heart thunders and your ears burn. You've never felt this helpless.

He keeps his rhythm, his crotch chafing against you as his other arm snakes under you. His hand flutters up to squeeze your chest. He grunts between his quickening pants as the bed shakes with him.

“I can be a nice guy,” he huffs, “but you make a guy wanna be mean.”

Your tears break free, leaking down to stain your pillow. You writhe and throw your elbow back. He growls as you catch him in the same spot as before.

He leans his weight into you, turning you on your stomach as he crushes you against the mattress. He pins you with his body, thrusting against you as the fabric between your bodies grows warm. You murmur and bawl into his salty palm as you feel his bulge hard and throbbing against you.

“That's it, baby, that's it,” he coaxes as he rocks faster, “almost….”

He slips his hand behind your head and pushes your face into the pillow, suffocating you. He coughs and grunts and spasms. He shakes and his pace turns erratic and he slows, little by little, until he still and gulping for air.

He falls limp over you, his head next to yours as he pets your hair. He purrs and turns to kiss your temple. You turn your head away from him and sob.

What just happened?

[collapsedglasshouses]

WOULD YOU SAY I'M WORTHY || ONE

PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x OFC ; slight Nick Folio x OFC

DIVIDER ART WORK BY @saradika-graphics

SUMMARY: When Eden meets Noah, her life is anything but perfect. Her heart is far more broken than Noah can even guess at this point. Will he be able to mend the wounds he hadn’t caused?

WARNINGS: angst, fluff, eventually smut, mentions of grief/loss, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of mental health issues, mentions of illnesses

A/N: FIRST OF ALL, COVID DOESN'T EXIST IN THIS STORY! Second, hello! :) This is a new series. We will see where this goes. Thank you for everyone joining in before it was even a real idea haha. If you liked the first part, consider reblogging it! Thank you!

TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit @lma1986 @missduffsblog @cookiesupplier @thescarlettvvitch @bngurngheart @dream-machine-love @arkiliastuff @vinyardmauro @lacktoesandtoddlerants @princessmarshmallowx

If you wanna be added to the story's taglist or to my taglist in general, leave a comment or message me privately!

The rain was pouring down with no regrets. It had been like this for a few days. And still, the bar business was booming. It was a cold Friday evening in October and Eden was done. She had been on her feet since around six in the morning and she just wanted to cuddle herself into her blanket on her small couch at home.

It wasn’t like she despised her job at the bar, but she just couldn’t feel her feet anymore. She had been pouring beer into glasses for five hours straight and there was seemingly no end. Every time she thought she had a second to herself, the next person ordered something.

On the light side, she also really hadn’t had the time to think about anything outside of work, which was the exact reason why she went for the job. She had been living in Los Angeles for about three months now. Three months of none-stop working. Three months of keeping her mind of reality.

She was doing better than she had originally thought.

As she was giving a woman her change, she noticed how the door opened. She always noticed when the door opened and she surely always noticed him. A young man in his early twenties entered the bar and shook his head for a second to get rid of the excess water in his hair. Eden felt like she could breathe for a second.

When the man lifted his gaze again, he quickly was met with Eden’s exhausted but welcoming smile.

“Eden!” The man beamed. “Thank God, you are here. I thought, you weren’t working today.”

“I’m always working, Nick.” She answered the man, as he approached the bar and set down on one of the chairs. He leaned a bit towards her with a smug smile on his face. “The same as usual.” – “Everything for you, Nick.”

She poured another beer into the glass before turning back to him and setting the drink in front of him. She didn’t even have to tell him what it cost, the money already laying on the counter, “Keep the change.”

Eden smiled to herself. Her day just got better.

“How has your week been?” Nick asked her, before sipping on his beer. Eden sighed.

“Pretty good.” She said, as she always did. “Yours?”

“A lot of stuff with the band.” He answered.

Right, the band. She knew he was the drummer of this metal band. Sometimes she forgot Nick was somewhat popular.

Eden nodded, before being called to the other side of the counter to yet pour another beer. When she went back to Nick afterwards, he was quick to gift her a sweet smile.

“What are you doing tomorrow?" Nick asked her interested.

“The same as always. Cuddling on my couch and watching some movies.” She answered him and he looked shocked. “But it’s your birthday!” – “That is the reason why I’m doing nothing out of the usual.”

Nick shook his head. “It’s also Halloween, Sunshine.” Eden smiled a little at the nickname Nick had given her other the last couple of weeks. She knew it couldn't be further from the truth, but she enjoyed the image Nick seemed to have of her in his head.

“Don’t make it even worse than it already is.” Eden breathed out, not even sure if Nick heard it over the noise that filled the room.

Eden hated her birthday. It was a hard reminder of the time just slipping through her fingers. To her, it was even worse that she was also born on a national holiday. And if that wasn’t enough, she also had her name tied to said holiday. While her name was representing some kind of delight or place of pleasure, her parents had chosen that name for her, because they thought it sounded mysterious and spooky. Fitting for Halloween.

“Oh, come on.” Nick exclaimed, snapping her out of her thoughts. She blinked at him for a second, waiting for him to continue his sentence. “Enjoy yourself for once.”

Eden rolled her eyes. As much as Nick was a delight to her, she also hated his happy spirit in moments like this.

“Okay, hear me out.” Nick said, when he saw her facial expression. “A good friend of mine is celebrating his birthday tomorrow. You should come. This way, nobody will focus on you, you can enjoy my company outside of work for once and you’re out of your little hobbit-house for once.”

Eden tapped her fingers against the counter and started to think. It had been about the fifth time that Nick tried to get her to do something with him. Since now, she had always turned him down. Not, that she didn’t want to see him, she just was scared. She liked being alone. She liked being to herself. She didn’t even speak to anyone outside of work, except her sister and her parents, but even that contact was strongly limited by her. Nick was the only one she would call somewhat a friend.

Eden ran a hand through her hair and then over her face. She was going to regret this. She just knew it.

“Okay… Just once.” She gave in and Nick clapped his hands together in excitement.

“Fucking finally!” He exclaimed. “I was really starting to think, you hated me.”

“I do not, and you know that.” She reassured him before taking another order. When she was ready with the customer, Nick’s beer was empty. She allowed herself to look at the clock that was hanging over the entrance of the bar. Her shift would end in half an hour.

“So, where should I go tomorrow?" She asked Nick, who was still smiling to himself.

“Give me your phone number and I’ll text you the address.” He answered her and reached his hand out, waiting for her phone.

For a second, she simply looked at his hand. He was getting bold.

She sighed in defense and pulled her phone from her pants to hand it to him.

Right when he handed it back, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Her boss Michael looked at her. “You can go. Anna will be here in a second.”

Eden nodded, before looking at Nick again, who stood to his feet, also ready to head out.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She exclaimed, before Nick nodded at her with a smile and left.

“The guy is cute.” Michael said to her, and she smiled a little. “Yeah, he is also a total pain in the ass.”

Michael only shrug his shoulders, before wishing her a good night and soon Eden was in her car.

It didn’t take her long to reach her apartment. She had been lucky, getting a flat close to her work. When she reached her front door and opened it, she sighed at the familiar sight of her home. Things hadn’t been easy the last couple of months. After moving to the other side of the country, she was just happy to have some peace again. She liked not living in that old house anymore, back at her hometown. Everything reminded her of her pain back there.

Not even twenty minutes later, she fell onto her couch, a bowl of instant noodles in her hand and some sitcom playing in the background, when her phone vibrated. Three messages from an unknown number.

She opened them.

?: Hey, here is Nick.

?: The party starts at 8, you have to come in a custome

?: [adress attached]

That's when it hit her.

She agreed to go to a party with a man, she barely knew, even though he was the closest she had to a friend in LA.

She was definitely going to regret it.

[scarfacemarston]

Tuberculosis and the Wild West

Spoilers for RDR2 , but it’s been since 2018, y’all.  Trigger warnings for serious talk of severe terminal illness and severe stigma. As of 12/20 or 20/12, I have fixed some of the wording and added a few new things so please seriously head the warnings. Ok, first, some background: I've been studying TB since 2018; my father had a form of TB twice. I'm a historian, and one of my specialties is the history of medicine. Of course, you don't need to be a historian to write something like this. Also,  please "like" and reblog, this sort of content takes time. Tons of pics of buildings, and info below of the “lore” and IRL people.

Background info about TB that y’all need to know: TB is still horrifically deadly and still a leading cause of death. To give you all an idea about how recent genuine scientifically proven treatments were-  antibiotics targeting TB were not  discovered until the late 40s. However, sanatoriums (TB hospitals) and similar TB-related places didn't all close until 1970. My sister was born in 1977.  To give you all an idea of how treeified people were of this disease, think of the stigma with the AIDS/HIV crisis in the 1980s or the early fears surrounding Covid.

TB is one of the three oldest diseases dating back to Ancient Egypt with early evidence appearing through ancient mummies. Starting around the 18th century, western people believed TB was a disease of the elite granting someone ethereal beauty, writing prowess, and artistic talents. It was known as a "romantic disease" and a "beautiful death" - both of which we know aren’t true.  Some western beauty standards are influenced by TB including rouged lips, blush, pale skin and a thin figure accentuated with corsets. However, the appearance was due to the patient wasting away. Patients actually had bloodied lips, feverish cheeks, a pale complexion from the illness and losing a large amount of body weight. That's why TB was initially called consumption.(There have been many other names for TB including the White Plague and Captain of All These Men of Death and phthisis which is Greek in origin.) However, people eventually woke up and realized, "Oh wait, this isn't so sexy” The disease spread like wildfire, especially in the cities affecting whole families as was seen with Doc Holliday. Soon, society blamed anyone who wasn’t a white upperclass person AND those who were "immoral . They believed it was someone’s own fault if they had the disease. People held a very e*gen*c view of the disease believing their activities or who their families were caused this.  Immoral in this instance includes thieves, sex workers, bar workers, drunkards, violent people, women who had children out of wedlock, said child born out of wedlock, and homeless people. Obviously, this isn't true. It was overcrowded spaces, poor hygienic practices, but also animals, especially cows and deer. Ironically, the deer/stag plays a huge role in RDR 2. A few aspects from RDR 2 were inspired by Doc Holiday, one of the greatest gunslingers and outlaws in American history. His talents with the gun were considered by some as otherworldly. He and Wyatt Earp are most famous for the shoot-out at the OK Corral. Doc was dying of TB and headed west in order to potentially receive some medical attention, but found out that being an outlaw was great fun. Watch Tombstone for a fictionalized version of him. He had a very colorful life, but died of TB in Glenwood Springs, Colorado, at the age of 36. The same age as you know who.

This leads us to RDR 2 itself. The short answer about  survival is potentially yes, but with some major stipulations. I have traveled across the country studying TB and visiting TB sites and have seen these locations firsthand. Read further to read how survival was possible and for pictures of key locations.

IF Arthur had rested, maintained a proper fat rich diet, rested in especially clean air and partook in light exercise, he MIGHT have had a chance. I would estimate a 60-70 percent chance based on my readings of TB survivors. The chance of survival  could be more if he he headed West immediately after diagnosis. The wealthy traveled to newly built luxury resorts, but most people lived in tent colonies, so Arthur would be very familiar with the site. Hell, if the gang moved West, and followed the conditions I mentioned above, he MIGHT have been able to recover without heading to a TB colony. The the gang wasn't stable, and they were being hunted down, etc. However, people were pissed about the TB patients heading west to settle on "their land" (which is, of course, Native American land that was stolen). This pushed people to the outskirts of town and eventually, the establishment of sanatoriums which were tuberculosis treatment centers. 

Both the picture above and below would be an example of the tents used by TB patients to camp out. The top picture was probably taken around the 1890s which is Arthur’s lifetime while the picture blow is probably from a later era like the 20′s based on the clothing. City people in big cities sometimes camped out on the roofs of their flats and apartments hence the setting of the second picture. 

Due to the extreme fear, people were literally dropped off by families/friends or even government officials far outside of town. You did not want society to know that you had loved one with TB or else the stigma would affect you as well.  Later, TB patients were forcibly institutionalized. Many of these patients were ashamed of their affliction, but also felt further shame that their loved ones could be ostracized by society. I cannot stress enough how horrific this disease was and how tb psychologically affected the sufferer and its loved ones. Many tb sufferers never saw their loved ones again due to their families shunning them. I interviewed the elderly who remembered family members suffering from the disease and it still haunts their lives today. We see some of the shunning and stigma in the game, not just from the townspeople but from the gang. It's actually one of the reasons why I truly dislike a few unexpected gang members, for example.

At least Abigail, Charles, Tilly, John, and Sadie still treated him as a  human. Hell, Even Molly was kinder to him and she was really suffering in chapter 6.

I will tell you right now, realistically speaking, in no way could Arthur have done anything at all in chapter six. I’m not only talking missions, but any sort of work.  I won't go into graphic details, but one of the less graphic ones is that his hands would struggle to grasp objects, especially a gun. His joints would be too swollen. I know because I've seen it firsthand with my father and read plenty of accounts about it. Other than that, the game does a pretty great job of representing TB - however, Arthur could have been arrested or fined for spitting blood on the street which he did quite often in the game. Link goes to an academic article, but here is a more accessible link.

By 1899, people had been heading west for TB treatment for decades. People of all races headed west to Colorado, California, New Mexico, and Arizona being the prime locations. Dry air and or mountainous air were your best bets. Colorado was quite literally known as THE place for TB tourism as it was called. It was one of the first major waves of health tourism in the history of the USA. 

Another famous person and case study is Dr. Edward Livingston Trudeau. He himself suffered from tuberculosis who sent up tuberculosis huts in Saranac Lake, NY. For further study, other key locations include Asheville, North Carolina and in the mountainous regions of Pennsylvania. They huts looked like this:

These were also in Colorado Springs, Colorado Springs was full of them and they are still occasionally found in people’s yards today. 

I visited one in the Pioneer museum in Colorado Springs. I can post my pictures later, but this is one found in an outdoor museum.

The TB patients had a very strict regimen of never leaving the bed and used bed pans. Healthier patients had access to their own private toilet. Stronger patients could work on doctor approved exercises, while even healthier TB patients who weren't ready to leave facilities yet could spend the rest of their time working around the camp or sanatorium.  Below is how Arthur would have looked getting treatment if he wasn’t in a hut or tent:

Above: Women receiving treatment. Below: An 1899 TB facility. Most tuberculosis sanitoriums were built from 1905 onwards so John’s era was FULL of them. The peak of the sanitarium era though was 1920-1940ish.

The problem is TB patients had a very chance of suffering from pneumonia once TB went into remission. It's happened in tons of my case studies. If Arthur could have survived both TB AND pneumonia, then he would have been considered "Ok". Not good, but “Ok”. However, I can't predict how long he would have lived afterwards. Some TB patients had tuberculosis come in a second wave. This is, unfortunately, very common. Some people lived a few months, a few years and some lived decades after surviving the second wave.

 Fortunately, survival after two waves include people who lived hard, like Arthur. Trudeau lived till 68, and that is after 2 bouts of TB and pneumonia, with the third wave of TB being his cause of death.

This is very likely a reason why Arthur would have been in New Austin if they had kept him in the epilogue and continued the TB storyline. I personally do NOT think John was ever going to kill him. MISC NOTES: Related to RDR:  Important side note: Sex workers were especially blamed for spreading TB which makes sense because of the contact with multiple people, but it's not that different than someone who works at a factory every day, runs a shop or works at the docks, or in similar situations. Anyone could spread it. This is why it is actually technically very offensive to ask someone like Abigail if she had TB because it would be a way to imply she is unclean as a person. (Which people in the game already believe with some of the fandom similarly treating her poorly.) The history of sex work is my other specialty, so I am very familiar with their history. I will say, from what I gathered, sex workers did NOT seem to be that much more affected than others, but at the same time, we don't have a lot of records of people who weren't white upper-class Christian men. So we have these records if these people were arrested, but remember that all of the examples of people I mentioned were viewed as second-class citizens. Therefore, we have hardly any records of sex workers as actual people and historians have to be creative to find other ways to research them properly.  Modern day: TB is also becoming antibiotic-resistant at a frightening pace. This will become a massive problem. Treatment  requires at least two antibiotics - streptomycin being the main choice for the primary antibiotic. This treatment lasts months, and these antibiotics are insanely strong. They can really mess with the body's system. I've seen it. My father was one of the lucky ones only having to take the pills for 8 months. Many others take it from a year to even 18 months. Other people take the pills and undergo radiation therapy to treat TB. Modern science can't produce enough new antibiotics to outpace it, but alternative treatments do appear to be promising.  If you want me to write more about TB or for any other history questions, feel free to send me an anon/message.  Additional pics: Below: Sanitarium built around 1905.

Below: An example of a finished Sanatorium in 1911ish:

[turbulenthandholding]

Sydney's polka dots and Yayoi Kusama

I wrote about it a little bit here, in a reblog of @thoughtfulchaos773's really excellent post (and ongoing thread) about Carmy's polka dots in his sauce but I have wondered since my first watch of S3, if there is some reference in all of the polka dots (Sydney's except for Carmy's sauce) to the Japanese artist Yayoi Kusama.

Pumpkins and Fruits (1993)

Kusama is an artist who works in a number of mediums, including sculpting and painting, but who is primarily known for her works featuring polka dots, both paintings as well as installations of polka dots in mirrored rooms (as well as even live art installations with naked people painted with polka dots).

There's two threads in her art that I think are particularly interesting, if all of Sydney's polka dots are at all referential to Kusama's work: mental health and sexuality.

Mental Health

The genesis of polka dots in Kusama's art came from her childhood, where as early as age 10 she had hallucinations of spots.

“I translate the hallucinations and obsessional images that plague me into sculptures and paintings."

And from Wikipedia:

Kusama has been open about her mental health and has resided since the 1970s in a mental health facility which she leaves daily to walk to her nearby studio to work. She says that art has become her way to express her mental problems. "I fight pain, anxiety, and fear every day, and the only method I have found that relieved my illness is to keep creating art," she told an interviewer in 2012. "I followed the thread of art and somehow discovered a path that would allow me to live."

I think Sydney's polka dots, viewed through the lens of Kusama's art, could be an indication of the healthiness of using creativity and collaboration in the kitchen as a way to process and work through past trauma as well as anxiety. As Kusama's art has given her a path allowing life, as she said, Sydney's polka dots could represent that Carmy has a path to improved mental health and a better place through his collaboration with Syd and their mutual inspiration. Carmy spends a lot of season 3 doing things for Sydney instead of with her, and his reflection of her polka dots in his sauce stands out as a reflection and a growing recognition in him of the full depth of her importance to him.

Sexuality

Which brings me to the second potential reference to Kusama's work in the polka dots, which is a reference to sexuality.

Sexuality has played a very complicated and, even at times disturbing, role in Kusama's life and she has used her art as a way to process it and reconcile her sexuality with herself. She was traumatized early by an abusive mother who sent her to spy on her cheating father as he conducted his affairs, which led to a reaction towards anything sexual filled with a lot of disgust (understandably). Over the course of her career, she grappled more and more with her feelings on sexuality in her art, with many representation both of female and male genitals in her work. As one article says:

Her works often depict phallic shapes and repetitive patterns, which she has said are meant to represent the human obsession with sex and desire. Kusama’s art also explores themes of self-obliteration and the loss of self in the face of infinite repetition.

Phalli's Field (1965) - first mirrored room installation, filled with phallic shapes made out of fabric and cardboard, covered in polka dots.

From Stir World:

While the work circled back to the phallic motif, the design intervention of using mirrors created an architecture of infinite space. This was the beginning of what revolutionised her career so much so that in 2016, she was chosen as one of the world’s most influential people by TIME magazine. Since then, her exhibitions of infinity rooms like Love is Calling have had waiting lines of over five hours for a few seconds of viewing time. 

Especially when Kusama combines polka dots with mirrored infinity rooms as she calls them, there is very much a sense of both reflectivity and reflexivity that happens. An interesting example in terms of this discussion, Infinity Mirrored Room - Love Forever (1966/1994), the polka dots in this room being represented by round, colored light bulbs:

A description of the installation (emphasis mine):

Infinity Mirrored Room—Love Forever is an iteration of the second mirrored environment Kusama created. Sculptural, architectural, and performative, the installation blurs the lines between artistic disciplines and is activated by audience participation. Hexagonal in shape and mirrored on all sides, Love Forever features two peepholes that invite visitors to peer in and see both themselves and another participant repeated into infinity. 

Kusama used her polka dots, especially when integrated into more phallic shapes in reflective rooms, to process and come to grips with her sexuality. And if there was an intentional reference being made to her art in Sydney's proclivity towards polka dots in season 3, I think it's in Carmy's coopting of the imagery in his sauce. The reflective and reflexive gesture indicates his observation of her (in that he noticed her repeating the pattern over the course of months in her clothes and scarves) as well as his desire for her. At their best, they are vibrantly collaborative and we see each of them let the other in more than anyone else. And this isn't entirely comfortable for Sydney, seen in the way she deflects his questions about her parents and her apartment at different points. But she does eventually tell him more and let him in more - and I think the polka dots could also be a representation of her coming to grips with her feelings and ultimately desire towards/for him, as well as the importance of their collaborative relationship, especially with the difficulty of Carmy in S3 as well as her offer from Shapiro.

(Also as an aside, Yayoi Kusama's art comes up as a rather regular inspiration/collaboration in food and fine dining, so it feels like her art may at least have been on someone's radar as they thought about Syd's polka dots this season. See here and here and here and here and here - as created by a former chef from the French Laundry.)

Sources for info and pictures:

Yayoi Kusama's website

Understanding Sexuality in Yayoi Kusama's Art

Accumulation (MoMA)

Wikipedia

The Alchemist of Polka Dots

Love Forever

[eventinelysplayground]

Trading Spaces.

Kinktober Day 5: Pussy/Cock Drunk|Double Penetration.

Pairing: Chevalier x Female Reader.

Hope you all have been enjoying everybody's fics so far! I know there are several I've read that I love and plan to reblog in the future. This fic was fun but also a pain to write as I kept starting it then deleting everything because I didn't like the idea behind it. I got this idea very late one night/early one morning and I ran with it. I hope I fulfilled the prompt well enough and that you all enjoy. You and Chevalier finally get to be intimate for the first time in weeks and your thoughts are consumed by him. This fic is NSFW so minors do not interact. WC approx 1200.

It had been almost two months since you were last in Chevalier's arms. It had started out as just your regular monthly break but in the middle of it reports were received that there was suspicious movement at the border so he left to deal with it, then a winter storm had blocked the roads delaying him from returning home as planned and when he did return he found you ill with a nasty cold caused by the same storm.

Now that you were finally deemed recovered enough by both the palace physicians and Chevalier himself you had been looking forward to tonight. Dinner seemed to last forever and was it just you or were the hallways longer now? Chevalier of course was as composed as ever and you started to feel embarrassed by how needy you were, a light blush spreading across your cheeks. You heard Chevalier chuckle softly beside you, he was most definitely reading your mind again and that thought only made you blush more. He reached out grabbing your wrist and led you to the next door he saw.

“What are we doing here?”

Chevalier did not reply; he simply opened the door and ushered you in before shutting and locking it behind you.

“Chevalier, why are we in Jin's room?”

“I will not let anyone else see that expression on your face, number one's room just happened to be the closest to us.”

His arms slid around your waist at the same time his lips landed on your neck. He kissed his way up to your ear and nipped at it and your knees buckled as you let out a shaky breath.

Chevalier's skilled fingers made quick work of your clothes, tossing them haphazardly on the floor as his mouth explored your newly exposed skin. You tried to keep up with him but you were quickly losing the ability to think straight and you'd only managed to just get his shirt undone when he was lifting you in his arms and carrying you to the bed.He laid you down on the cool silk sheets then began undoing his belt. You went to push yourself up onto your hands but found them slipping under you and you found yourself questioning Jin's wisdom in using these sheets given his…hobby.

“I have a few theories but I am sure number one would tell you his reasoning if you asked him.”

Chevalier's tone was even but there was a smirk on his face as he joined you on the bed.

“No, I’m okay with not knowing.”

You reached up and wrapped your arms around Chevalier's neck and your lips met his in a passionate yet faintly clumsy kiss. He nipped at your lips and you parted them letting his tongue make its way inside. As your tongues teased each other one his hands began to make its way along the curves of your body spreading heat in its wake.

You loved the way he ran his hands along your body letting them explore your sensitive spots as they stoked your desire for him. Your lips parted but you whined and pulled him back to you not quite ready to let them go yet. He responded by kissing you harder, claiming every inch of your mouth as his and you moaned.

When he pulled away again you let him go and soon his mouth was traveling a path downwards biting and licking as they went. Every time he bit your skin it was like a spark and you found yourself moaning and writhing beneath him. You normally loved the way he teased you but right now all you wanted was his heat inside you and each time he touched you somewhere other than your throbbing core you growled internally. Finally his mouth had reached one of your nipples and you arched under him letting out a soft cry as he sucked on it. He continued to tease you making sure his hands and lips stayed just above where you craved them and your frustration and desperation to feel his cock inside you grew with each caress.

“Chevalier!”

Your voice was desperate and angry as he kissed around your aching bud. He looked up at you and smirked, he knew exactly what you wanted and you knew he wanted you to say it. Normally you'd be embarrassed but right now you didn't care, him thrusting his cock inside you and filling you up was all you cared or thought about.

“Don't make me wait any longer, I want you inside me so bad it hurts.”

Chevalier looked momentarily surprised by your declaration and he didn't respond. Truthfully it had begun to feel like it was hurting. The amount of sensation you were getting everywhere but there was just making the throbbing worse and you were soaking wet.

You watched as he sat up studying you briefly before a devilish smile crept across his face. He grabbed onto your legs and pulled you towards him, your body easily and quickly sliding along the silk sheets. He grasped your hands and pulled you into his lap and kissed you as he slid himself easily into your core. This is what you had craved, being enveloped in his arms, his scent of roses swirling around you. The feeling of his long hard cock filling every inch of you and the way it hit not only the deepest parts of you but the way it felt on your clit as you slid up and down him. Chevalier's arms held you tight as you exchanged kisses, each one seeming to make you ride him faster.

Your head was pounding and you couldn't think about anything other than the pleasure. He pulled you closer to him leaving no space between the two of you and he kissed you roughly. The kiss lasted until you were almost out of breath and you painted when you drew away. One of his hands grabbed your breast and you cried out as he nipped at your neck just as your peak hit. Chevalier let out a sigh as you slowed down, at least that's what you thought.

You had been consumed by your pleasure and didn't hear the door unlocking, or opening, or it hastily being shut but Chevalier did. It's why he had pulled you flush against him kissing you and why he sighed because he knew he was in for a ridiculous conversation tomorrow.

After the door quickly shut Jin relocked it with a smirk on his face.

“Jin? I thought we were going to continue things in your room.”

The woman looked up at Jin with lust filled eyes as she tugged on his waistcoat.

“Ya just I forgot how much of a mess it was, clothes all over the place and my sheets need to be changed.”

The woman was pouting but Jin smoothly slipped an arm around her shoulder and began to lead her down the hallway.

“Don't worry, let me take you to a secret private library very few people ever get to see. It's only got two chairs but there's also a few soft pillows and plush blankets just for this sort of occasion…”

Tag List: @queengiuliettafirstlady, @nightghoul381, @nani-nani-nani. If you want to be added/removed just send me a msg.

Special Tag: @aquagirl1978 because it has her man in it.

[skyriderwednesday]

UPDATE: THIS IS NO LONGER THE FINAL VERSION. ACCORDINGLY I HAVE TURNED THE REBLOGS OF THIS POST OFF, IT REMAINS ONLY AS VERSION REFERENCE.

Okay, so HOPEFULLY I've made my final major changes to my chronology? Comments and feedback are much appreciated, see the notes at the bottom. Titles in italics have been moved/updated since last time.

The ‘Gloria Scott’ - Summer 1875 [1] (Framing: Winter 1882-3?)

The maths as stated don’t work, as 1855 + 30 = 1885, and these events can’t occur after A Study In Scarlet. 1875 would have to be Holmes’s second year of college. 

The Musgrave Ritual - Spring 1879 (Framing: Winter 1882-3?)

It is stated to have been four years since Holmes last saw Musgrave. Holmes mentions telling Watson about the events of ‘Gloria Scott’. Watson must be living at 221b at the time, as his intro describes Holmes’s extremely messy habits in terms of lodging with him.

A Study In Scarlet - January to March 1881

Watson states the date he discovered Holmes’s profession explicitly as the 4th of March, which was several weeks after they moved in together. I find it likely that it was at most mid-January when they met, and that Watson spent February observing Holmes’s habits and trying to figure him out.

The Resident Patient - October 1881

Watson describes these events as being ‘towards the end of the first year during which Holmes and I shared chambers’, and then specifies that it was October.

The Valley Of Fear - January 1882 [2]

It is stated to be ‘in the late eighties’, but Holmes appears to still be getting used to Watson’s sense of humour, which he claims is ‘developing’, which points to it being earlier while Watson is still recovering from his illness. Any later and Holmes would already be very familiar with his closest companion’s personality.

The Yellow Face - Early Spring 1882

(I base this placement on character dynamics.)

The Speckled Band - April 1883

It is directly stated to be early April 1883.

The Beryl Coronet - February 1884

Watson is living at Baker St. It is stated to be February.

The Copper Beeches - Early Spring 1884

Watson is living at Baker St and appears to be unmarried. I will take it that references to SCAN, IDEN, TWIS, NOBL, and BLUE are self-promotion on Watson’s part due to publication order.

Charles Augustus Milverton - Winter 1884

I get the feeling this is an earlier case, as Watson’s attitude is oddly naïve when it comes to morality and the ability of the law to handle Milverton. I cannot see him behaving like this/holding these beliefs if he has already experienced Moriarty with Holmes for instance. He is also very jumpy while he and Holmes are performing their burglary.

The Hound Of The Baskervilles - October 1885 [3]

Mortimer’s stick is dated 1884, and Holmes notes this was five years ago (making it 1889), but Watson neither appears to be married nor in medical practice, and since this story was explicitly written as to have occurred before Holmes’s ‘death’, this precludes it being set after 1888. 

The Greek Interpreter - Summer 1886?

I feel like these events are happening a decent number of years after Holmes and Watson met each other, as Watson refers to his relationship with Holmes as a ‘long and intimate acquaintance’, during which up to this point Holmes had ‘never’ referred to his family.

The Reigate Squires - April 1887

It is directly stated to be April 1887.

The Sign Of Four - July 1887 [4]

It is stated to be July (later mistakenly stated as September) 1888, but this contradicts both SCAN (March 1888) and FIVE (September 1887). There may also be a pearl missing as Mary describes their delivery?

The Cardboard Box - August 1887

Holmes mentions both A Study In Scarlet and The Sign Of Four by name -- which implies that Watson is a very speedy writer, as this would be only a few weeks later. However, this may be taken as self promotion on Watson’s part.

The Noble Bachelor - Autumn 1887

This story is dated to 1887 via Lord St. Simon’s age, and also by Watson calling the events a ‘four year old drama’ at the time he is writing (presumably 1891), but Watson is soon to be married -- which is not possible if he has not yet met his fiancée. Dating SIGN to July 1887 fixes this discrepancy.

A Scandal In Bohemia - March 1888

Watson explicitly dates the start of this case to the 20th of March 1888, and states that he hasn’t seen Holmes for several months after his marriage (which would be in the late autumn to winter of 1887 - possibly extending into Jan/Feb 1888)

The Stockbroker’s Clerk - June 1888

Watson states that he acquired his practice ‘shortly after’ his marriage, and that he was too busy to visit Holmes at Baker Street for three months. Counting most of March as the first month (per SCAN), that takes us to the June he states, which is the first time Holmes has visited Watson at his practice. 

The Naval Treaty - July 1888

Watson describes these events as occurring in ‘the July which immediately succeeded’ his marriage, which is the July of 1888.

[The Second Stain - July 1888**]

Due to it heavily contradicting the events referenced as ‘The Adventure of the Second Stain’ in NAVA, I take it that the story of this name is heavily if not entirely fictionalised. This is when the real events that inspired it occurred.

The Crooked Man - August 1888

Watson states that these events began ‘one summer night, a few months after’ his marriage, which would make it 1888. It cannot be July, since Watson states in NAVA that the July following his marriage featured ‘three cases of interest’, and I doubt Holmes would be showing up at Watson’s home near midnight so early in their re-established partnership for it to be June, so I suggest it to be August.

The Five Orange Pips - September 1888 [5]

It is stated to be September 1887, but even if SIGN occurred in July of that year, Watson and Mary have not married yet for him to be ‘staying at Baker Street’ while she is away visiting her (dead) mother.

The Boscombe Valley Mystery - Spring 1889

The Man With The Twisted Lip - June 1889

I place this after BOSC, as Holmes takes it as a given that Watson’s wife will not object to him sending a note and running off on a case in the middle of the night. (I suspect he’s wrong and will be due a bollocking after breakfast)

The Engineer’s Thumb - Summer 1889

The Dying Detective - November 1889

Watson describes this as happening in his ‘second year of marriage’, which, 1888 being his first, works out as 1889.

A Case Of Identity - September 1890

Holmes comments in REDH that the case of Mary Sutherland occurred ‘the other day’. Assuming he isn’t the type to use ‘the other day’ to mean several months ago, etc, this would put it within the last few weeks. 

The Red-Headed League - October 1890

It is directly stated to be October 9th 1890

The Blue Carbuncle - December 1890

Watson states it to be ‘the second morning after Christmas’, making it the 27th of December. When discussing cases that didn’t involve a crime, Holmes cites the events of SCAN, IDEN, and TWIS. This also lines up with the publication order, BLUE being the seventh short story, and Watson states that of the ‘last six cases’ he has written up, three of them were legally free of crime (morally however…)

The Final Problem - April to May 1891

Holmes has apparently been working in France since ‘the winter of 1890’ when he suddenly shows up in Watson’s consulting room on the 24th of April. His ‘death’ occurs on the 4th of May.

The Empty House - April 1894

The date Ronald Adair was murdered is stated to have been March 30th 1894. Taking into account the time required for the inquest - which has just concluded- I estimate it to be the first week of April, which lines up with Watson's description of it being an 'April evening'. Additionally, March 30th 1894 was a Friday, which would likely have delayed the start of the inquest to Monday, April 2nd.

The Norwood Builder - Summer 1894

Stated to take place ‘several months’ after Holmes’s return. Watson has moved back to Baker Street and sold his practice.

Silver Blaze - Late Summer 1894 

(I would like to set Silver Blaze to be after NORW, since I think Holmes and Watson deserve a fun case after that one. I believe it to be post-hiatus since Watson is evidently resident in Baker Street and does not appear to be in practice at this time.)

The Golden Pince-Nez - November 1894

It is directly stated to be November 1894.

The Red Circle - Winter 1894

Watson is living at Baker Street, and Holmes refers to his medical practice in the past tense. Though there are no other suggestions as to the time period, I feel safe putting it in 1894 as the year is said to have been particularly busy. (Taking up three volumes of Watson’s yearbooks!)

The Solitary Cyclist - April 1895

It is directly stated to be April 23rd 1895.

The Three Students - May 1895?

It is directly stated to be 1895, though Watson declines to give any more information than that. I suppose it to be around May, since the case involves university exams.

Black Peter - July 1895

It is directly stated to be ‘the first week of July’ 1895.

The Bruce-Partington Plans - November 1895

It is directly stated to be ‘the third week of November, in the year 1895’.

The Veiled Lodger - Early 1896

It is directly stated to be ‘early in 1896’

The Shoscombe Old Place - Autumn 1896?

(I hover this story nebulously here due to a lack of stories in 1896.)

The Missing Three-Quarter - February 1896-7

Described as occurring ‘seven or eight years ago’ from the time of writing, presumably 1904. (I don’t see the point of ascribing it to one or the other currently, as it doesn’t make much difference to the order of surrounding stories.)

The Devil’s Foot - March 1897

It is directly stated to be March 1897

The Abbey Grange - Winter 1897

It is directly stated to be ‘towards the end of the winter of’ 1897.

Wisteria Lodge - March 1898 [6]

It is stated to be March 1892, but this is impossible as Holmes is presumed dead at that time. It also can’t be March ‘91 as Holmes is too busy at that time, and referencing REDH eliminates March ‘90 or any year earlier. Further, Holmes complains of boredom due to a lack of cases, which eliminates 1894 due to a very high number of cases in that year (he also won’t be back for a few weeks yet). Holmes is also busy in March ‘95, ‘96, and ‘97. It is not until 1898 that there may be time for him to be bored by March.

The Six Napoleons - Late May/Early June 1898

It must be the end of May or the start of June, as Beppo was arrested and sentenced to a year in prison in late May of the previous year. (I’d like to set this one near DANC, since Holmes deserves the praise.)

The Dancing Men - July 1898

Mr Cubitt says that he met his wife while in London ‘for the jubilee last year’, which would be Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee, and that Elsie received a letter from America ‘about a month ago, at the end of June’, making it July.

The Sussex Vampire - November 1898

I date this story to after 1897, as that is the year vampires rose significantly in the public consciousness.

The Retired Colourman - Summer 1899

Amberley married his wife in 1897, and Holmes comments that the events that have resulted in their contact with him have occurred ‘within two years’.

The Priory School - May 1901?

Years listed with regard to Lord Holdernesse date the story post 1900, and wording makes it seem that that is not the present year.

The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax - Spring/Summer 1901?

The Problem Of Thor Bridge - October 1901

The Three Garridebs - June 1902

It is directly stated to be June 1902

The Illustrious Client - September 1902

It is directly stated to be September 1902. Watson has moved out of Baker Street, and is living in Queen Anne Street.

The Blanched Soldier - January 1903

It is directly stated to be January 1903. Holmes claims that Watson has ‘deserted [him] for a wife’.

The Mazarin Stone - Summer 1903

Watson is visiting Baker Street, and comments that nothing has changed in his absence, which infers this to occur after his second marriage. He also comments that a dummy of Holmes has been ‘used before’, referencing the events of EMPT. 

The Three Gables - 1903?

Watson has not seen Holmes ‘in some days’. It appears that he is visiting Baker Street at the time.

The Creeping Man - September 1903

As originally published, the date is stated as September 1902, but when collected in Case-Book, this changes to 1903. I place it in 1903 as otherwise it would be extremely occurring extremely close to ILLU.

The Lion’s Mane - July 1907

It is directly stated to be ‘towards the end of July 1907’. Holmes is retired.

His Last Bow: The War Service Of Sherlock Holmes - August 1914

It is directly stated to be August 2nd 1914. Holmes has been undercover for the past two years. He is described as a ‘man of sixty’, but I’ll take that as artistic license since sixty is a reasonable estimate for someone in their late 50’s.

Notes:

This chronology was started in direct opposition to and due to frustration with Baring-Gould's chronology. Any comments or suggestions based on it will be disregarded.

For convenience's sake, I largely disregard publication dates except for when they provide vital context for when a story occurred. Unless stated otherwise, it will be assumed that Watson is writing the stories roughly in real time. This also saves me the headache of trying to account for Holmes referencing stories that Watson wrote while he was 'dead' (i.e. basically everything between SCAN and EMPT)

It is my aim with this chronology to take into account all stated dates, and take them as correct except for where they blatantly contradict others. (e.g. SIGN being dated to either July or September 1888, when FIVE references Watson's wife in September 1887 and SCAN refers to his marriage in March 1888; Wisteria Lodge being dated to March 1892 when Holmes is 'dead' at this time)

It is also my intention that Watson is only married twice, the first time to Mary Morstan in late 1887 and the second to an unknown Mrs Watson in late 1902/early 1903 (being strictly canonical, my own headcanons of him retiring to Sussex with Holmes aside)

I estimate that Holmes was born January 6th 1857, making him 18 at the time of GLOR and 24 at the time of STUD. Also by this estimate he would be 57 at the time of His Last Bow.

I estimate that Watson was born 23rd May 1853, making him 27 at the time of STUD. This would make him 61 at the time of His Last Bow.

[kykyluvrr]

Hi!

I don't know if your taking requests like this, but I'd love to read some Kylian Mbappe x reader smut. Maybe readers first time? 🙈

↻ K. MBAPPÉ ...

✽ content: first time with kylian (SMUT), unprotected sex cause i forgot to add the condom into the story, my first time writing smut

✽ pairing(s): kylian mbappé x reader

✽ a/n: so so sorry for the delay i was sick asf but im feeling better, i was like half asleep while writing this so if you see some crazy grammar/spelling error, no you didn't anyways thank you sm for all reblogs and likes and follows you guys are the sweetest im working on other requests too, ill try to upload daily OKOK enjoyyyy,,,♡

first time with kylian.

you two had just arrived home from a fancy restaurant. kylian had been acting weird ever since he saw you in the pretty white dress you wore to the restaurant. he had been staring at you, and spaced out while looking at you. he confessed that he admired how the dress looked on your body, but truth is, he had other thoughts in mind…

“kylian!” you said. trying to wake him up into reality, he had spaced out again while looking at you. he snapped back into reality and looked at you confusingly then slightly smiled. “sorry, you are absolutely stunning” he stated while looking away, scratching his neck.

you both had dinner and it was getting late, so kylian suggested to drive home so that you guys could wake up early tomorrow. you agreed on it and with that you both were on the way home.

you and your boyfriend arrived to the hotel and he opened the hotel room door for you, you thanked him and walked inside, him following you from behind. “i’ll go take a shower” he said and immediately went to the bathroom. you found it so cute, was he nervous? he had been acting so strange in an adorable way.

you walked to the master bedroom you had with kylian and started changing clothes to a red silk set, consisting a red shirt and a pair of red shorts, you removed your makeup, applied your skin care and threw yourself with your phone on to the bed, waiting for kylian to finish using the bathroom so you could brush your teeth.

you were relaxing and scrolling through your phone til you could hear the door open. your eyes turned to the door and out you saw a steam, but no one there.

“kyky?”

no answer.

your eyebrows furrowed. what was up with kylian today? you rose up from the bed and walked into the steamy bathroom. you could smell the scent of kylian’s shampoo. and so you saw kylian applying lotion on his body.

“why didn’t you answer when i called your name? is everything alright baby?” you asked concern in your voice. he snapped into reality once again. “im sorry, i didn’t hear you” he stated, looking at you with his brown gentle puppy eyes.

you just slowly nodded. you were NOT focused on what he had to say, only thing you could see was the tall, muscular, toned body he had with just a white towel wrapped around his waist. water dripping around his abs. you had an unknown feeling in your stomach, but you liked it.

kylian smirked. “like what you see?” he said teasingly. you realised what you were doing immediately started blushing, while covering your face with your hands. “oh my god” you whispered to yourself. you walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. “tell me when you’re done using the bathroom” you half-yelled. kylian laughed and gave you an “okay”

he had finished his night routine and walked to you and threw himself onto the bed, right next to you. “can we cuddle?” he asked, and you nodded. you were laying on his chest, still using your phone. he was watching your phone too. he became touchy and placed his hand on your waist, rubbing it. he brushed his nose against your neck and gave you a few kisses. still no reaction from you.

kylian wasn’t having it. “not this type of cuddling mon amour, i want kisses” he stated, you felt butterflies in your stomach. teasing him was entertaining, especially when he was being so needy. you turned off your phone and looked at him with a smile.

“what are you thinking about?” you asked him. he just shook his head. “we are thinking about the same thing, aren’t we?” he asked. he kept looking up and down, from your lips to your eyes as he spoke.

“are we though?” you asked him, tease in your tone. you smirked. “you’re teasing me, i know you are” he said with annoyance in his voice. he let out a sigh. you loved teasing kylian, especially when he was being needy.

he then gave you a quick peck on your cheek. “goodnight mon amour” he said and turned around, covering himself with a blanket.

you wouldn’t let him sleep though. you and him were thinking about the exact thing, you were just teasing him.

“turn over to my side baby” you ordered and he did, looking at you with confuse. that’s when you immediately smashed your lips onto his sofy lips. you could feel his lips forming a smile which made you smile too. this kiss was not like every other kisses. he kissed you gently and kind, yet hungrily and filled with lust.

he sat up and he instantly placed his hands all over your body, worshipping every centimetre of yours. you both had been waiting for this moment.

he then suddenly broke the kiss, leaving you confused. you were looking into his brown eyes, that were now filled with lust. “what do you want to do?” he asked you which caught you by surprise.

you were unable to speak, thousands of butterflies flying around your organs. feeling joy rush through your blood.

“talk to me mon amour, use your words”

there was something in that sentence that was so hot, making you even more unable to speak. you felt nervous around him.

“i want you. i need you, kylian”

was all you could say and oh boy was that more than enough for him. he smirked, and that’s when you realised you and him were going to have a long night.

he somehow flipped you into another position. you were now sitting on his lap. he placed his hands around your waist, squeezing you lightly. you then kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

with his hands he started grinding your butt on his dick, which made him leave a light moan into your mouth. the kisses got more sloppier and more wet, you both were so needy for each other it’s crazy.

he then, then moved his hands to your breats, massaging them while kissing. you were grinding on him by your own. everything felt so good, this was your first time being so intimate with someone and you were more than happy that it was with kylian.

“i need to be inside you right now, i can’t wait anymore”

you smiled at his words, you nodded and started stripping off your clothes. as the last piece off of you dropped to the floor, you covered up, feeling extremely shy.

“don’t cover up, i have never seen such a gorgeous woman as you” with a husky voice that drove you crazy. you helped him slid off his shorts and then slid off his shirt, throwing it against the wall.

“are you sure about this? it’s your first time and i want to make it special for you-“

was all kylian could say before you pressed your lips against his lips. “i’m more than ready baby, im so grateful that you could wait til i was ready, i love you so much” you said and he smiled before kissing you. “i love you too” he whispered.

he flipped you over again, making you lay on the bed, he was kneeling infront of you and that’s when you realised how massive he was. so, you gasped.

he looked at you quickly with concern. “kylian you’re gigantic! im going to break” you said and his face faded into a smile, a nervous one. “don’t say stuff like that..” he said shyly.

kylian slid a finger between your folds and you grabbed the sheet instantly, the way his warm finger connected to your womanhood was a feeling you had never felt before.

“you’re so wet, mon amour” he said in a low tone. “please, i need you right now” you begged. kylian was enjoying it to 100%. you begging for him made his dick twitch. you both needed each other.

kylian grabbed his dick and positioned himself right in front of you, he used his dick to slide down to the shape of you womanhood, causing small moans leaving your mouth. you were so done with the teasing, but before you knew it,,,

kylian very slowly slid down his dick into the tight walls of yours, causing both of you quickly close your eyes and the sound of groans filling the room. you could hear kylian saying something in french but you didn’t know what he was saying.

kylian of course didn’t slid his whole dick into you. he knew it was your first time so he wanted to be gentle and caring. “are you okay? does it hurt?” he asked, making sure you’re comfortable.

“im good, you’re so big kyky, it doesn’t hurt but it stings a bit” you explained. he nodded, “it’s okay, i’ll wait for you to adjust” he stated and began kissing your neck, leaving a few lovebites. you loved having him on top, all you could see was his chest and abs and his red tinted face, the whole package. you loved it beneath him. you loved how he always wanted to make sure you’re comfortable around him and he makes you feel like a princess every time. you wrapped your arms around his neck once again and let him kiss and suck on your neck.

“can i?”

he asked, and you nodded. he started to thrust very lightly, always making sure you’re okay. he kept showering you with kisses to make you feel comfortable while he was enjoying the pleasure. he loved the noises you left, it was like music to his ears, and because it was his first time hearing you like this as well.

he could feel himself get closer to climax, but he absolutely didn’t wanna come before you, so he held it in and kept going, making sure you felt good too, and so you did. 

“you're mine, only mine”

was what he said in french while looking at your pretty face, you both enjoying the moment. he started thrusting deeper and faster and you could feel a clump forming into your stomach. 

“baby i think im-” was all you said before he interrupted you. 

“you finish first, i'll finish right after” he said between moans. you felt your lower belly tighten. your back arched automatically and with the deep and fast thrusts you received from your boyfriend, you came, you came so hard you were seeing stars, with a loud “kylian!!” escaping your mouth, your nails dug onto the bedsheet.  

he kept going and then quickly took his dick out and finished on your stomach. you felt warm seed spreading on your belly. kylian fell onto the bed right next to you, you both panting out loud.

“that was-” you said but kylian interrupted you again. 

“i love you so much mon amour. no one has ever made feel this way. you're my bestfriend, lover, girlfriend, and soon to be wife” he said while wrapping his arms around your neck. “i love you too kyky” was all you could say to his kind and warming words. you both were laying like that for a while but not too soon, kylian rose up. 

“let's wash up and head to sleep so that we can get enough sleep for round 2 tomorrow morning,” he said with a smirk,,,♡

[imightgetbetter]

i love dilfs

a bit less slutty than i initially envisioned but trust there will be more of that coming. this combines a bit of the tour requests and dad!matty that all you mentally ill daughters and children were asking for earlier. came up with the name with my friend after a play on literary classics, which felt just pretentious enough for this storyline. as always (and as you do) like and reblog and comment and all the things. love you loads, see you tomorrow!

“I don’t know who this is, but they’re small and quite cute and they seem to have the same cowboy boots as me,” Matty says teasingly, his phone held tightly in his hand as he records a story to be posted to the approximately one million followers on social media. His laugh sounds harmonic against yours as you turn around, your daughter escaping from your hold on her hand as she nearly head-butts her father’s thighs. “You are quite small to be wearing cowboy boots like that.” His thumb releases the button before anyone could get a real image of her face, more so of you standing there with a bright smile on your features, and he couldn’t complain. Hurriedly, Matty saves the video, smiling brightly as your daughter leans against his thighs and tilts her chin up to look at him.

“I’m big, Daddy. I’m quite like, super big. I’m nearly six.”

“Not sure who you are,” Matty teases, leaning down and scooping her into his arms, twisting her upside and tickling her belly until her laugh is the only thing you can hear around you. He’s said time and time again, that her laugh is his favorite sound in the world, because it reminds him of yours. “Tell me who you are!”

“It’s Attie!” she giggles, her tiny hands desperately trying to grapple at his much larger ones, the laughter echoing between the three of you enough to make your heart feel like it’s going to break your ribs apart. Matty is oblivious to you taking quiet pictures and videos of the two of them, pictures that you’re sure he’s going to want when he’s away. “Daddy, it’s me! It’s Attie James!”

“Oh! Oh! Okay.” Matty turning Attie around and bringing her to his hip, kissing her cheek sweetly and brushing a stray curl away from her forehead. “You okay, darling?” Attie lays her head on his shoulder, hugging him tightly. Her tiny hands clutch his shoulders, her eyes closing as you restart your walk towards the entrance to the venue, where you’ll be able to ready yourself for the evening and rest a bit before the show begins in a few hours. You’ve only just gotten to America, with Attie having to finish school and work meetings, Matty reluctantly had to leave for tour without you two a few weeks early. He’s been waiting for you to join him every minute since he left. “Tired, hm? Long flight?”

Attie rubs her eyes and shakes her head, “Mummy let me have a lolly on the plane, and I had a really big seat all to myself.”

“Did you sit in your seat, Attie?” you chime in, walking slightly ahead of the two to get your luggage towards the entrance. Matty immediately reached for Attie, which left you in charge of the suitcase, not that you minded all that much. Matty called nearly four times a day to check in with Attie, and an additional two or three to check in with you. He missed you two more than you ever thought someone could miss another person. He always said that it felt like missing his lungs, like an integral part of him was gone. Maybe, somehow, you believed that.

“I think you snuck into Mummy’s seat and cuddled with her,” Matty teases, kissing her forehead repeatedly, breathing in the scent of her strawberry shampoo. He’s not even been away for that much time, but everything feels different now that she’s older. He doesn’t ever want to be apart from her. “I don’t blame you; Mummy gives the best cuddles.” Matty holds her tighter as they walk through hallways, security nodding to them every so often and the excitement bubbling inside of you as you take in the infamous venue that you’d been to so many times before. Matty nods towards his dressing room, excusing himself past security and walking with you, breathing out a sigh of relief at the sight of your suitcase and your daughter on his hip and you in the room. “Can I put you down for a minute to hug Mummy? I missed you like crazy, but I also missed Mummy, darling.”

Attie yawns, “Okay, Daddy.”

“Hi, baby,” you say, a smile spread across your lips as you meet him in the middle of the room. Matty sets Attie on the floor gently, taking two strides towards you and wrapping his arms around your waist, tucking his face into your neck, and breathing you in, your arms immediately wrapping around his shoulders and squeezing tightly. Having him in your arms, it makes you realize how much you’ve missed him, how deeply you’ve missed having his presence around the house and in your room and in the car. Having him here, it reminds you how you’ve missed the different voices singing during bath time and the character voices at bedtime. All the things you take for granted when he’s home, when he’s physically present, it makes you appreciate it a million times more when he’s here, with you. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Missed you,” he whispers against your neck, kissing you gently across your skin until his mouth reaches yours, a hot breath fanning over your lips as he says, “I’ve been dreaming about this. About you.”

“I’d hope you are,” you tease, tilting your face ever so slightly to connect your lips, kissing him deeply. Kissing him now, it’s hard to believe that at one point in time you were barely eighteen trying to hide your feelings for him, drunkenly kissing him here and there at parties. Many things have changed since then, many wonderful things. Kissing him once more, you turn your head slightly, looking to your daughter who has taken up residence on the vanity chair and is playing with the collection of styling tools and gels on the counter. “Attie, do you want to get ready?”

Attie nods excitedly, “Yeah! Daddy, Mummy brought me a pretty shirt just like yours!”

Matty looks at you curiously and then turns to your daughter, “Have to see what you’re wearing so I can match you, love. Think I should wear my cowboy boots on stage, too?”

Attie taps her finger against her chin, thinking carefully. “Maybe, I don’t know. Have to see.”

Matty laughs and kisses her head, walking around the room and beginning to get himself ready as you get your daughter dressed in her white button down and a tiny pair of trousers. Looking at her, you can see Matty in every inch, from the hair to the eyes to the smile, and it makes you grin, thinking about what another child might look like. You’ve thought about it before. Matty’s brought it up. Having another was never really a far-fetched idea.

“Daddy,” Attie calls, waiting until she has Matty’s full attention before continuing with her question, “are you going to sing Mummy’s song, tonight?”

“Always, baby,” Matty says, walking towards her and leaning onto his knees to adjust her collar, kissing her nose sweetly before standing upright. “Mummy won’t sleep with me if I don’t.” He laughs loudly when you smack his arm, shaking your head and walking towards your suitcase to find the shirt you packed specifically for the evening.

“Daddy, you and Mummy sleep in the same bed. That’s silly.”

“Right, right,” Matty chuckles, trying to hide the smirk on his face as you shrug off your clothes and begin getting dressed in the trousers and tee shirt you held tightly in your hands. Matty’s heart races at the sight of you, his mouth going dry taking you in. He always thinks you’re beautiful. He’s thought you were the most beautiful woman from the moment he laid eyes on you. How you look tonight, though, he isn’t quite sure how he’s going to make it without getting his hands on you. “You look absolutely incredible, darling. I like the shirt.”

His intense stare makes you smile, tilting your head down to meet his eyes as they stare at your chest openly, the words, I <3 DILFS, written in bold lettering. “Felt fitting considering what I’m about to tell you.”

“Tell me what?” he says, only waiting a beat before everything makes sense, and the question is lost in the air and Matty’s arms are circling around your waist and lifting you into the air, a laugh leaving his lips with excitement and joy, and you can feel the smile on his face as he hides his face in your neck, the wetness on your skin a sure sign of his genuine happiness. He pulls away only slightly, lowering his voice so only you can hear him, “You sure?”

His eyes are wide and filled with excitement, and you genuinely believe he’s about to burst at the seams, “Very sure.” Matty grabs your face in his hands and kisses you deeply, unable to stop smiling long enough to keep your kiss connected. “I haven’t told anyone, and you can’t tell anyone. It’s between you and me for now.”

“And Attie!” your daughter chimes in from the corner, completely oblivious to the news being shared between you two and the way you can feel your heart growing with excitement and love.

“And Attie, yeah,” Matty says breathlessly, his hands running over his face in disbelief. “You, and Attie, and me.”

[cheynovak]

Forged - Part five 

Summary: Calista is a young woman who lives with her uncle and nephew since her parents died, one day 'the God king's' guards under the leadership of a knight come to town. Looking for young women to present to the crown prince Cyrus (Luke Evans) , who is in search of a wife before he can claim the throne. Calista meets the handsome Knight Ezra (Jensen Ackles) who doesn't seem to be who she thinks he is. Will she fall for the dark intriguing prince, or will she fall for the guidance and warmth of Ezra?  

Warnings: 18+ Smut, orgasms, cheating, hurt   

English is not my first language  

Words:  6900  

Part 5 out of 6 I'm sorry I want to put so much into it, that it is getting to long for one shot.  

*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

--  

The three of us stayed together that night.  

Cyrus had changed clothes and washed up before he switched places with Ezra, who now sat on the chair a crossed the room. I caught his glance when I lay in Cyrus his arms, a whirl of emotions showing, pain and sadness but also relieved and caring, maybe a hint of jealousy?  

I was too tired too ill to decipher it. Their protective presence a comfort amidst the turmoil made me feel at ease, knowing I'd be save. As I drifted back into sleep, I knew what soon would follow.   

Marriage. 

-- 

I woke up first, feeling a lot better. Vaguely, I remembered waking up in the middle of the night and seeing Ezra still awake, his green eyes bright in the dark as he watched me sleep. Still, he looked exhausted.  

I patted the bed beside me, offering him a place to sleep. He hesitated, looked over at his brother on my other side, but eventually crawled into bed next to me. Since I was still clinging to Cyrus on one side of the huge king-size bed, there was enough space for the three of us.  

I turned toward Ezra, my hand finding its way to tangle with his. Cyrus shifted too, his arms still tight around my waist but his face now in my neck. I looked at Ezra, mouthing "thank you." He kissed my hand placed it on his chest. The difference between Ezra’s warmth and Cyrus his coolness has never been so obvious until now when I held them both.  

He stayed on his back, his head turned, looking at me before he closed his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the bond we shared.  

Their presence gave me a sense of security. We still lay in the same position this morning. I stared at Ezra, seeing his beauty and how the first sunlight captured it, noticing the freckles on his nose and cheeks. I didn't notice Cyrus waking up until he kissed my neck near my ear, whispering, "I never thought having two men in your bed was you kink. Naughty girl." I slightly turned to look at him. "I couldn't let him sleep on the chair, could I?"  

Cyrus hummed, his breath fresh against my skin. "He cares for you." I didn't answer, unsure of what he truly meant by that. Instead, I simply let go of Ezra's hand, feeling the complexity of my emotions swirl within me. Here, in this fragile moment of peace, I realized how much I depended on both of them. Cyrus gently kissed my neck again, his hand caressing my stomach. "It's still early, try to get some sleep." he whispered, and I closed my eyes for a few more hours of sleep.  

That day, I spent time with my uncle and Micah, who seemed like he had grown so much. Both were glad Cyrus took care of 'the problem' and kept me alive and safe. They shared stories and tried to lighten my mood, but the looming wedding date kept my thoughts occupied.

The council had set the date, firmly insisting that no king could be crowned without a queen. A week from now, I would be married to Cyrus, after that he would be crowned and I would be his Queen. The weight of it all made me feel nervous and uncertain. I couldn’t help but think about the whirlwind of events leading up to this moment, and how tangled my emotions had become.  

Micah noticed my unease and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "You'll be alright," he said softly. "You’re strong." I managed a small smile, grateful for his reassurance, I couldn’t believe how much he has grown, he talked like a little adult. I was proud of him, seeing and hearing he did well in school.  

As the day went on, the preparations for the wedding became more apparent. The castle buzzed with activity, servants hurrying about with decorations and gowns, I need to choose patterns and colours and dishes...  I found a quiet moment in the gardens, needing a break from the chaos. I closed my eyes, trying to calm my racing thoughts.

The sound of footsteps made me open my eyes, and I saw Ezra approaching. "How are you holding up?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes. "I'm... managing," I replied. Ezra nodded, standing beside me.  

I looked up at Ezra, my voice trembling with sincerity. "I'm sorry for everything I said about Sara and you. If you wish, you can invite her to the wedding, be your plus one." Ezra smiled gently, shaking his head. "You were right that night. I told her the truth, I don't love her, I don’t even like her.”  

A sense of relief washed over me, and I hugged him tightly. He kissed the top of my head, his breath warm against my hair. "You asked me for the truth too," he said softly. I pulled back slightly, looking into his emerald eyes as he took a deep breath. "I’ve been selfish, I wanted you here, I’ve helped you because I'd rather see you in my brother's arms than not having you in my life at all." 

I felt a mix of gratitude and sadness, understanding the depth of his feelings and the sacrifices he was willing to make. "I... I don't know what to say," I whispered, my heart aching with the complexity of our situation. Ezra smiled sadly. "Just promise me you'll be happy, no matter what. That you go for whatever you need. Set your goals on something. Live your life." Tears welled up in my eyes as I nodded. "I promise."  

Marie’s sudden appearance and her cheeky smile piqued my curiosity. I followed her to my room, where she began unboxing several spicy and sexy lingerie sets. The sight of them made me blush, nervousness coursing through me. Marie said nothing, just watching my reaction with a knowing grin.  

The lingerie sets were all different colours, each one more enticing than the last. She finally spoke, her voice teasing, "Pick one for your wedding night, the one you know Cyrus would love on you." I looked at the delicate pieces of fabric, my mind racing. This choice wasn’t just about what Cyrus would love; it was also about how I wanted to feel on that night.  

I carefully picked up a set, deep emerald green with gold accents, I don’t know why... No that was a lie, I saw it and immediately thought of Ezra. It was elegant yet seductive, Marie’s grin widened. "Good choice. " Before she started to clean them up, I held up a hand. "Hold on," I said, picking up another two sets: one white and one red. Marie chuckled, her eyes twinkling with mischief.  

"You’re preparing for all occasions, I see," she teased. "With these, there will soon be an heir." I blushed at her implication but couldn't help but smile. "Maybe so," I replied, thinking of the expectations that came with my impending marriage. The thought of an heir, it was an inevitable part of our future.  

That night, as I lay in bed, the anticipation of the upcoming wedding kept my mind racing. Eventually, exhaustion took over, and I drifted into a restless sleep. In my dream, the grand hall was decorated for the wedding. Flowers and candles lined the aisle, casting a warm glow. I walked down the aisle, my heart pounding, the white dress flowing around me like a cloud.  

Cyrus stood at the altar, looking regal and composed. As I approached him, he turned to face me. His eyes, glowing an eerie purple, sent a chill down my spine. His hands and face were covered in blood, a stark contrast to his pristine attire. Horror seized me as I looked down at my white dress, now soaked in blood.  

Panic surged through me, and I turned to look at the guests. The sight was unbearable, everyone lay dead, their faces frozen in terror. Among them was Ezra, his lifeless eyes staring blankly. I screamed, my voice echoing through the silent hall, but no sound came out. The dream was suffocating, and I felt trapped in a nightmare from which I couldn't escape. I turned back to Cyrus, his blood-stained hands reaching out for me, his smile twisted and sinister. 

With a start, I woke up, drenched in sweat, my heart racing. The image of the blood-soaked dress and the dead bodies lingered in my mind. I looked at my arms and legs, nothing there... It was just a dream I told myself. Yet I couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled deep within me. The wedding was only a few hours away. And all I could think of was: I’m making the worst mistake of my life.  

-- 

Without thinking, I ran towards Ezra's room, still in my nightgown. Hysterical, I knocked on the door. After a moment, he opened it, looking confused and concerned. 

I burst into tears, rambling on about the nightmare. “There was so much blood, dead guests... A-a-and Cyrus... he was killing everyone.” Ezra gently took my hands, his voice soothing. “Calista, it’s okay. It was just a dream. You’re safe. Cyrus would never harm you.” 

But I couldn't calm down. The images from the nightmare still vivid in my mind. Ezra pulled me into his room, closing the door behind us. He guided me to a chair and knelt in front of me, holding my trembling hands. 

“Look at me,” he said softly, his green eyes steady and reassuring. “Breathe with me, in and out.” I tried to match his breathing, the warmth of his hands grounding me. “It was so real,” I whispered, still shaking. 

“I know,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “But it was just a dream. I promise you, nothing like that will happen.” His calm presence began to ease the terror that gripped me. Gradually, my breathing slowed, and I leaned into his touch. "It's the second dream I've had of Cyrus killing," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. 

Ezra's expression softened, his eyes filled with concern. "It's just nerves," he reassured me, though his words couldn't fully dispel the fear that lingered. I looked into his eyes, the vision of his dead gaze from my dream haunting me. "You were dead," I murmured, my hand reaching up to scratch his beard, seeking comfort in the familiarity of his touch. He smiled gently, "I'm here, Calista.”  

"Don't ever leave me," I begged, my voice trembling with desperation. I wasn't just talking about the nightmare; I needed him. Understanding the depth of my plea, he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly. "I won't," he whispered into my hair. "I promise."  

I kissed his neck in reflex and Ezra held me closer, his embrace tightening around me. "Calista," he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of longing and restraint. "We can't..." 

I pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. "I know," I said softly, my fingers still tracing gentle patterns on his shoulder, “I wasn’t trying anything. But I need you, Ezra.”  

After my nerves cooled down, I went back to my room, preparing for my big day. 

-- 

The grand hall was filled with the soft murmur of the guests as they admired the decorations and awaited the ceremony. My heart raced as Marie and a few others helped me get ready. My hair and makeup were perfect, and the dress fit like a glove, accentuating my curves while the deep open back added a modern touch.  

Uncle Henry stood by my side, ready to walk me down the aisle. As I took my first steps down the aisle, a sea of unfamiliar faces turned to look at me. My heart pounded louder with each step. Micah, looking proud, held the rings, his presence a comforting reminder of family amidst the strangers.  

My gaze kept shifting between Cyrus and Ezra, both standing tall in their suits. Cyrus looked every bit the regal prince, but the memory of my nightmare made my stomach churn. His eyes, usually calm and calculating, seemed more intense today, filled with a mix of emotions I couldn't decipher.  

Ezra, standing beside his brother, wore a supportive yet solemn expression, almost sad. His presence was a source of comfort and anxiety all at once. The nightmare's lingering grip on my mind made it hard to focus on the reality of the moment. As I reached the altar, I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.  

Uncle Henry gave my hand a reassuring squeeze before stepping back. I turned to face Cyrus, my eyes meeting his. For a brief moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us, but not in the good way, there was something off. The officiant began the ceremony, his words a distant hum as I tried to push the nightmare from my mind. Cyrus's hand reached for mine, his touch grounding me. Reminding me the commitment we were about to make.  

"Do you, Cyrus, prince of gods, take Calista to be your lawfully wedded wife?" the officiant's voice broke through my thoughts. "I do," Cyrus replied, his voice steady and strong. "And do you, Calista, take Cyrus prince of gods, to be your lawfully wedded husband?" the officiant turned to me. 

As I said, "I do," I couldn't help but glance at Ezra. In that brief moment, I saw that flicker of hurt and sadness in his eyes again, a look that vanished as quickly as it appeared. The weight of the rings, the spoken vows, and the reality of what was happening pressed heavily on me. "You may now kiss the bride," the officiant declared.  

Cyrus leaned in, I cast one last look at Ezra, but he had already turned away, his face looked more like a mask hiding his emotions, but I saw the pain beneath it, his lips meeting mine. The kiss was firm, possessive, a reminder of the pact we had made. The hall erupted in applause, but the sound felt distant, almost muted, as my mind struggled to reconcile the emotions churning within me. 

As we turned to face the guests, hands clasped, the cheers and smiles of the crowd felt almost surreal. I forced a smile, trying to appear as the radiant bride they expected me to be. Cyrus's grip on my hand tightened slightly, a silent reminder of the unity we had to display.  

As we walked back down the aisle, the feeling of Ezra's gaze lingered, the nightmare, the poisoning, and the strained relationships weighed heavily on my mind. The festivities from the party seemed to blend into a haze as the evening progressed. The lights, the laughter, and the music all merged into a single, overwhelming experience.  

I danced briefly with Cyrus then uncle Henry and Micah, who was delighted with the cake and the attention. His joy was a brief but comforting distraction from the weight of the day's events. The last of the guests departed and the party wound down, a quiet settled over the castle.  

I found myself walking in the hallway, the sound of my footsteps echoing softly against the stone walls together with Cyrus his steps following me. I headed towards Cyrus's room, my heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and dread. I finally reached the door, I heard it click shut behind me. The sound made the bubble I was in for the night burst, bringing me back to the present. 

The room was dimly lit, casting long shadows that danced with the flickering light of candles. Cyrus stood behind me, I felt his hands move my hair to one shoulder. “You seemed tense tonight?” He tried to lighten up. “It’s just, it has been a lot the last few days”  

Cyrus kissed my neck. “Let me take care of you.” Cyrus’s touch was both gentle and assertive as he worked the zipper of my dress. His kisses along my neck were cold and electrifying, sending shivers down my spine. I tried to focus on the sensations, letting them guide me away from my racing thoughts.  

The fabric of my dress fell, pooling at my feet, and I felt exposed yet strangely liberated. Cyrus's hands roamed my bare skin, his touch a blend of reverence and desire. “So beautiful.” I turned slowly to face him, his eyes filled with a hunger that mirrored my own uncertainty and anticipation.  

His fingers traced the contours of my body, his gaze never leaving mine. He guided me to bed, taking off his clothes, I waited, covered by sheets, until he hovered over me. His lips and hands finding the spots my body liked, as I felt his desire press against my warm core, he moaned against my skin.  

When I felt his hands move down my legs I tensed. “Relax” he whispered, “We’ve done this part before.” We did, he did... and although it felt like magic back then, it didn’t now. But somehow my body knew how to react. I tried not to think about it, maybe I would be able to get back into the bubble, unfortunately it didn't happen.

As he guided me into a more 'comfortable' position, I tried to relax, but feeling how he lined himself up and slowly entered me, I tensed again. "So fucking tight." He murmured, Cyrus's touch, was still cold, was deliberate and focused, but allowing myself to adjust to his size.  

His hands continued to explore, finding the sensitive spots that elicited responses from my body. Despite the initial discomfort, I concentrated on the growing sensations, focusing on the rhythm of his hips and intimacy of the moment. Cyrus's murmurs of encouragement and his attempts to soothe me with his touch helped ease the tension just a little.  

I tried to push aside the lingering doubts and fears, allowing myself to be absorbed in the experience, forgetting the nightmares. As I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the sensations, Ezra’s touch came to mind. I imagined his hands and the way he had made me feel before. The contrast between his presence and Cyrus's became more pronounced. I couldn’t help but moan softly, the thought of Ezra blending with the reality of the moment.  

Cyrus, feeling my response, shifted slightly, his touch becoming more insistent. He murmured something, but my focus remained split between the reality of the touch and the vivid memory of Ezra. Cyrus had no idea, his touch becoming more bolder, more aggressive, but I felt my body change, stronger, colder, harder, I felt a sensation building. Cyrus felt it too.  

Telling me to let go, to come for him... I did, as I imagined how Ezra would feel in this moment. A shock wave crashed over me, my eyes opened just then. Cyrus joined right after. Looking at me he smiled. “So beautiful...” I turned my head when he got off me. That was the moment I saw my reflection in the dark window, the bright purple in my eyes was startling.  

I turned towards the window, Cyrus caught a glimpse of my expression. He reached out to gently touch my shoulder, his voice low and reassuring. As he looked over my shoulder to the window. I saw two pairs of purple eyes. "Extraordinary," he said. My mind struggled to process what was happening, trying to understand the implications of this newfound power and the transformation I was undergoing.  

The morning after the wedding, I woke up in Cyrus's bed, the events of the night before a hazy blur in my mind. I took a moment to really take in the room around me. The heavy drapes blocked out most of the sunlight, casting the room in a dim, almost eerie glow. The decor was minimalistic, with dark wooden furniture and sparse decorations, reflecting Cyrus's reserved and guarded nature. 

I sat up slowly, the silk sheets rustling around me. My head felt heavy, and I rubbed my temples, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. The room was silent, save for the faint sounds of the palace waking up outside. I looked around, noticing the few personal touches—an ornate sword mounted on the wall, a few books on a shelf, and a small, framed portrait of his family. 

A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. "Come in," I called out, my voice still hoarse from sleep. 

Marie entered, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Good morning, my lady. How are you feeling?" 

I offered her a small smile. "Good morning, Marie." I thought about her question, realizing that most women felt pain or soreness after their wedding night, but not I. It felt like nothing had happened the night before. "I'm... fine, just a bit tired." 

She nodded, approaching the bed with a tray of breakfast. "I thought you might need something to eat. The prince has already left for his morning duties, but he asked me to make sure you're well taken care of." 

I accepted the tray, my stomach rumbling at the sight of the food. "Thank you, Marie. I appreciate it." 

As I nibbled on the food, Marie began to tidy up the room, her movements quick and efficient. "The ceremony was beautiful," she said softly. I smiled with my lips closed, as a thank you, since my mouth was stuffed. Marie glanced at me and said, "You look stunning." 

I was confused. I had just gotten out of bed. She turned the mirror in the room toward me. My hair was a deeper shade of brown, not as black as Cyrus's, but clearly darkened. My skin had a tint lighter than usual. I stood up and moved closer to the mirror, noticing soft purple elements sparkling in my deep brown eyes. My body had changed overnight. 

"What... what happened to me?" I whispered, my voice shaky. 

Marie watched me with a mixture of awe and concern. "It seems the transformation has begun" she said softly. "Divine, you are becoming immortal.” I reached up to touch my hair, my fingers trembling. "I had no idea it would be so drastic," I murmured, trying to process the changes. 

"The Divine bloodline's power is manifesting within you," Marie explained. "It's a sign of your connection to Cyrus and the responsibilities that come with it." 

I turned to face her, my mind racing with questions. "Will this continue? Will I keep changing?" Marie nodded slowly. "Yes, my lady. As you bond further with Cyrus, the transformation will deepen.” I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "Thank you for telling me, Marie. I need some time to absorb all of this." 

She bowed her head slightly. "Of course, my lady. If you need anything, I'll be just outside." As she left the room, I returned to the mirror, staring at my reflection. The changes were undeniable, but so was the reality of my new life. 

-- 

Weeks passed, and the council agreed to the coronation of Cyrus. I witnessed it at his side, feeling a mix of pride and apprehension.He had been distant these few days, and I didnt mind. The first nights I said I still felt sore, so he wouldn't touch me like he did on the wedding night.

Last few nights I pretended to stay out late in the library and pretended to be in bed too late, I didnt wantes to wake him, so I slept in my bed. He said he didn't liked it but accepted it so far.

The night ended with a grand celebration, and the palace was filled with laughter and music. During the night, I lost track of Cyrus and decided to follow him to give him my gift—a small golden ring designed to match his wedding ring. 

As I searched, I noticed him slipping away with Sara, my suspicion grew, and I quietly followed them, trying to stay hidden in the shadows. I reached a closed door and pressed my ear against it, straining to hear their conversation. 

Sara's voice was soft but clear. "I've noticed her changes, Cyrus. Is it really necessary for you to sleep with her?" My heart pounded in my chest as I heard Cyrus's reply. "My love, it would be suspicious if I didn't. We have to maintain appearances." 

As I stood by the door, I couldn't help but peek through a small crack. My heart sank as I saw Sara sitting on Cyrus's lap, their intimacy evident. Straining to hear more, I caught fragments of their conversation. 

"You have to be patient," Cyrus said softly, his tone soothing. "Soon, she'll be out of the way." Sara's voice was laced with frustration. "My poison won't work on her anymore now that you've given her the divine." 

Cyrus laughed, a sound that sent chills down my spine. "You're beautiful when you're jealous," he said, before leaning in to kiss her, deep, passionate and raw.

I couldn't stifle the small gasp that escaped my lips, and his eyes flicked toward the door, suspicion darkening his gaze. I quickly covered my mouth, holding my breath and hoping he wouldn't investigate further. 

After a tense moment, Cyrus seemed to dismiss the noise, turning his attention back to Sara. I took the opportunity to slip away as quietly as I could, my heart racing with a mix of fear and betrayal. They were more than just friends. I stepped back, trying to process the betrayal. My mind raced with questions and doubts.  

I clenched the ring in my hand, feeling a wave of anger and hurt wash over me. I couldn't bring myself to return to the celebration or to Cyrus's room. Once in my own chambers, I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my wedding ring. A wave of sadness and anger washed over me. I had pushed Ezra away for what? Betrayal and deceit. 

As I was changing clothes I noticed the red lingerie, meant to symbolize a night of intimacy and trust, now felt like a cruel joke. Determined, I grabbed my robe and left. As I walked through the dimly lit corridors, I found myself at Ezra's door. I hesitated, my hand hovering over the wood. Should I knock? Taking a deep breath, I knocked softly but received no answer. He was probably still at the party. 

I tried the handle and found the door unlocked. Slowly, I pushed it open and stepped inside. The room was empty, clean, and filled with light from the moon filtering through the large window. It had a serene quality, a stark contrast to the turmoil churning inside me. 

I walked further into the room, taking in the details. A book lay open on the bedside table, a small sign of Ezra's presence. I placed the red lingerie on the bed and sat down, my mind racing with thoughts of betrayal and deception. I walked to his bathroom, taking in the sight of the marble bath that looked over the garden filled with golden lights.  

The soft glow from the lanterns outside bathed the room in a warm, ethereal light, creating a serene and almost magical atmosphere. The tension and exhaustion of the night began to melt away as I stared at the inviting bath. 

-- 

Back at the party, Cyrus was mingling with the guests, his smile perfectly masking the turmoil within him. He scanned the crowd for any sign of me, growing more concerned with each passing minute. Finally, he approached Ezra, who had been quietly observing from the edge of the room. 

"Have you seen Calista?" Cyrus asked, trying to keep his voice casual. "Nobody has seen her for a while." Ezra shook his head, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "No, I haven't. I'll go look for her." Cyrus nodded, forcing a smile. "Thanks, brother." 

Ezra left the party, his mind racing as he searched the palace. He checked the gardens, the library, even the small alcoves where I might have sought solitude. But I was nowhere to be found. As he walked through the dimly lit corridors, he suddenly realized there was one place he hadn't checked: his own room. 

Heart pounding, he made his way there, pushing the door open to find the room empty. His eyes quickly scanned the area, his eyes fell om the bright red lingerie and then he noticed the soft glow of light coming from the bathroom. Approaching cautiously, he gently knocked on the doorframe before stepping inside. 

-- 

The sight that greeted him took his breath away. I was soaking in the marble bath, surrounded by the golden light from the garden lanterns, and petals from red roses covering my body. My eyes didn't look away from the garden as I heard him enter. My dark hair was up and out of the water, my fingers caressing the side of the bath in the exact same red as the roses. I heard Ezra closing in, the sound of his footsteps almost inaudible on the marble floor. 

"Calista," he said softly, his voice filled with concern. "Why did you leave without saying anything? We were worried." 

I didn't answer, instead, I spoke in a detached tone. "I had no idea your bathroom had such an amazing view. Almost too good to be true... like everything in this palace." He knelt down beside the bath, his worry palpable. "What's wrong?" he asked, almost afraid of the answer. 

I continued to stare out at the garden, my voice cold and distant. "Nothing is wrong, Ezra. Everything is just... perfect." He reached out, his fingers lightly touching my arm. "Calista, talk to me. Please."  

After a moment of silence he got up, looking down at me with worry in his eyes. “Let me get Cyrus for you.” My head snapped towards him, my eyes blazing, I noticed a hint of purple flash through the room. "Don't you dare get him," I hissed, my voice low but filled with a desperate intensity. 

Ezra froze, his hand lingering in midair. "What happened?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. I still didn't answer. Instead, I stood up, water and rose petals cascading down my body. Ezra tried to look away, to only meet my eyes, but he couldn't resist stealing short glances. I walked up to him, my hand caressing his shoulders. 

"Calista," he said, his voice strained. "What are you doing?" 

"Taking what, no, who I want most," I replied before leaning in and kissing him. Cyrus his Divine not only gave me a little his strength and immortality, but also a piece of his confidence and cunning.

Ezra's initial hesitation melted away as he responded, his arms wrapping around me, pulling me closer, feeling my skin. The kiss was intense, filled with a mix of desperation and longing. I felt ten times better, hotter than when I was still human. I moaned softly, the sound escaping my lips before I could stop it.  

He pulled back slightly, his breath ragged. "Calista, are you sure about this?" 

“Yes.” I looked into his eyes, my resolve unwavering. "I need this. You." Our lips met again, and this time there was no hesitation, no holding back. Ezra's hands roamed over my body, his touch igniting a fire within me. 

Ezra's hands found the small of my back, pulling me even closer, as if he couldn't bear to let go. His lips trailed from my mouth down to my neck, sending hot shivers down my spine. I felt the need to be as close to him as possible, to feel every inch of his skin against mine. 

Time seemed to stand still, and nothing else mattered but this moment. Ezra guided me to his bed, the room still bathed in the golden light from the garden. I was consumed by an intense urgency, my hands and nails working to rid him of his clothing as quickly as possible. 

His skin felt warm and inviting beneath my touch, and he responded with a fervent energy that matched my own. My fingers dug into his skin, leaving trails of desire and need. I bit his lip, a mix of passion and frustration fueling my actions. He groaned softly, his hands gripping my hips as I maneuvered us. 

With a deliberate move, I turned him around, pushing him down onto the bed with a mix of tenderness and assertiveness. I positioned myself on his lap, straddling him, feeling the heat of his body against mine. The sensation was electrifying, a perfect blend of dominance and vulnerability. 

Ezra’s hands tightened around my waist, his strong arms supporting me with a mix of tenderness and need. As I arched my back, I felt a thrilling shiver, almost losing my balance but held securely by his grip. His lips traced a heated path along my neck, his kisses turning into playful nips that made me gasp with pleasure. 

I could feel his breath against my skin, each touch electrifying. His mouth moved lower, finding the curve of my breast, his kisses and nibbles igniting a fire that made me arch further into him. My nails dug into his hair, the sensation of his soft strands slipping through my fingers.  

The room was charged with an intense, almost primal energy as we allowed the passion between us to take control. Ezra's movements became more urgent and fervent, his touches and kisses a testament to the depth of our connection. 

He guided us with a forceful yet gentle dominance, turning us around with a decisive motion. As I moved further up against the pillows, I watched with a mixture of anticipation and desire as he removed the last piece of fabric, revealing himself completely. His bare form illuminated by the golden light of the room, and I felt a surge of admiration and longing. 

My lips parted as I took in the sight of him, my heart racing. When he crawled over me, his presence overwhelming yet comforting, I could no longer hold back. The need for him was overpowering, and I pulled him closer, our bodies aligning perfectly. 

He asked me again "Are you sure?”  I smiled and said “ Isn't the queens wish your command?” He pushed his hard and oh so big member inside. The initial sting and stretch were sharp, like the first time, but the intensity of the moment quickly turned that sensation into something different, something more consuming. 

Ezra's voice was a husky whisper against my ear, “Your wish is my command, my queen.”  and I felt the weight of his words as he moved within me. 

As Ezra's body moved with mine, the initial pain quickly dissolved into a tidal wave of sensations that I had never experienced before. His hands roamed over my skin with a possessive tenderness, exploring and kneading, leaving trails of warmth wherever he touched. 

His fingers traced the curves of my body with a deliberate, almost reverent touch. He cupped my breasts gently, his palms pressing against the soft flesh, while his thumbs brushed over my sensitive nipples, eliciting soft moans from my lips. Each caress was both soothing and electrifying, a mix of firm pressure and delicate strokes that made my breath hitch and my body arch in response. 

His hands slid lower, tracing the line of my hips and down to the curve of my thighs, where his touch became more insistent and urgent. He gripped my legs, pulling them closer, creating a deeper connection that made every movement between us more intense. I scratched at his back, my nails digging into his skin as the pleasure built, the friction heightening every sensation. 

With each thrust, Ezra's movements were both powerful and graceful, a perfect dance of passion that made my body quiver. His breathing became ragged, mingling with my own gasps and moans. The rhythm we created together was intoxicating, a blend of raw desire and tender exploration that made it feel like every touch, every kiss, was both a discovery and a fulfilment. 

As I turned us around, I felt the full force of his gaze on me. His hands were firmly gripping my thighs and ass, his fingers digging in as I rode him with a fervent rhythm. The sensation of his cock moving inside me, combined with the way his hands held me so securely, sent waves of pleasure through me. 

Ezra's eyes were half-closed, heavy with passion and exhaustion. His lips parted slightly, emitting deep, guttural groans that echoed my own moans of pleasure. Each movement of mine elicited a shuddering response from him, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath. His expression was one of sheer, unrestrained bliss, eyes locked onto mine with a look of wonder and adoration.  

Ezra's gaze, filled with a mix of awe and a sparkle of gold that mirrored the hues in his paintings, was intensely captivating. As I rode him, his head fell back in sheer pleasure, every muscle in his body tense with the overwhelming connection we shared. The sight of him, lost in the moment, his body moving with each rhythm and shudder, was both vulnerable and intoxicating. 

His groans grew more ragged, each sound a testament to the escalating intensity between us. When he grunted that he couldn’t hold on much longer, I slowed my movements, sensing his desperate need for release. Our eyes locked, and I leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips. My voice, low and sultry, whispered in his ear, “I’m not ready to stop yet.” 

With a swift, deliberate motion, he turned us around. I found myself on my stomach, my legs closed tightly, my hips slightly up as he positioned himself behind me. The shift in position was immediate and electrifying, his presence overwhelming as he entered me again. I clung to the sheets, the fabric bunched in my fists, losing myself in the pleasure and not caring if anyone outside could hear the sounds of our passion. 

Ezra’s hands gripped the sheets tightly beside my head, his knuckles white with the effort of maintaining his hold. His breathing was ragged, each thrust hard and deep, causing the bed to creak with the force of our movements. The way his hands gripped the fabric mirrored the intensity of his thrusts, which were steady and unrelenting, each push driving us both deeper into the throes of passion. 

Every stroke, every deep thrust, seemed to bring us closer, the friction and pressure building with an almost unbearable intensity. His breath was hot against my skin, mingling with the warmth of the room, creating an atmosphere charged with overwhelming sensation. 

His body hovered over mine, the muscles in his arms and back tensed with each powerful movement, his hand slid between me and the bed, caressing the bundle of nerves between my legs. “I'm close, don't stop, please don’t stop.” I murmured in the sheets over and over. He listened, kissing my back as he pushed me over the edge, after that we switched again, He sat up back straight taking a breath.  

Ezra’s breath quickened as he watched me, his eyes intense with a mix of longing and determination. After a short breath, I straddled him again, my body trembling from the earlier climax, he helped guide my movements, his hands steady on my ass, kneading the flesh, I could see the little sparks of gold burning in his eyes, a fire that told me his release was close. 

I wanted him to feel the same sensation I had just experienced. “Come inside me.” I whispered but despite my desperate pleas for him to come, his voice was firm, holding back. "No... consequences... " he said, his tone a mix of resolve and teasing control.

I begged again, “Come inside me,” he wanted to pull me off him, but I refused, using my power my strength pushing his back against the bed. My hand pushing firm on his chest. "Calista, please stop... I- I can’t."  

I bit his lip still taking him deep, I asked again more demanding, almost an order to a soldier... a knight, my knight. “Come inside me. I need to feel you." His breath hitched and groaned “Say that again” he begged. With a grin on my face I said it again. “Fuck, Ezra... Come inside me.” His hand pinched my hip. “I-is that a command my queen?” - “Yes! Yes it is... Do it.”  

Like a good soldier, he listened, he finally let go. The room seemed to pulse with a radiant energy as our connection reached its peak. The intensity of the moment created a dazzling display of light, a symphony of purple and gold swirling around us. His eyes locked with mine, I could see the shine retract showing his emerald green eyes again.  

He looked at me, his expression a mix of wonder and satisfaction. I could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the raw emotion that mirrored my own. As I lay beside him, the cool touch of the sheets and the soft glow of the aftereffects of our passion wrapped around us. 

“What got into you?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with curiosity. 

I turned to face him, a smile playing on my lips. “I’m done being a pawn for your brother, and I don't want you to be one either.” I said, his eyes softened as he took in my words. A deep, genuine smile spread across his face, reflecting the joy and relief that matched my own. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from my forehead, his touch tender and affectionate. my voice steady and filled with conviction. “It is my turn to take what I want.” I added and kissed him again  

And what I wanted, from the beginning, was Ezra.  

--

Tag list:-> I keep a different tag list for this story because it is different from the other stories I write. If you want to be added please let me know!

@jackles010378 @headinthemoon87

[golden28s]

Totally optional, fun Gallavich questions ☀️🌙

thanks for tagging me to the coolest person @callivich 💖

What’s a fic you’ve read more than once? i havent read that many gallavich fanfics since i watched the show in like april BUT im loving Africa and ill probably read it once it's finished

What’s a gifset you always have to reblog? s7 gifsets are really person to me but also maybe s10 and s11 because they reached the peak of softness

What’s a headcanon you can’t stop thinking about? maybe that ian would tell mickey "i told you so" when they become parents and mickey turns out to be an absolute incredible dad that will play, sing, dance anything with his children.

What’s a fanart you love looking at? maybe @gallavichonly @heymrspatel and i accept recommendations btw id love to see more fanart

What’s an idea you’d love to create if you had the time/inspiration? id probably write like a series of one shots based on taylor swift songs

What’s something you’ve discovered since entering this fandom? A new trope you love? A different analysis of the show? Something else? i think that not judging characters, like always be aware of their circumstances and what made them do or say that and that might not justify them but it explains their thought process, it explains why and gives them some sort of humanity to their mistakes idk if this makes sense but yeah that, don't judge a character too soon, try to understand them.

What’s an underrated trope or concept you’d like to see more of? the secret dating, we know they secretly dated and stuff but i feel like it's actually a really fun concept to play with despite their circumstances in the show, it gives you so many possibilities.

What’s your favourite season? And has this changed after multiple rewatches of the show? the early seasons have special place in my heart, so s4-5 and i think gallavich totally saved s7, i love that part of the season

What’s a plot hole you wish had been answered or resolved? i would've loved to see ian healing from the grooming and realizing it was grooming, it would've been nice for the character to heal old wounds and start fresh a new life with mickey in a new neighborhood ready to create new memories

What scene or moment do you feel isn’t discussed enough? the just wondering if we're a couple or not scene, we definitely should discuss more the fact that mickey answered too quickly, he absolutely had been calling ian boyfriend in his head

What line/dialogue/description from something else (a poem, a book, a tv show, a movie, or something else) do you feel describes Ian and Mickey’s relationship? im gonna quote noel fisher and as he said: "Ian's been that kind of guiding angel for Mickey so he's going to have to turn into a pretty much kind of a protective angel for Ian"

What do you think is next for Ian and Mickey post-finale? i think they're gonna learn to communicate even more, they were in really good path already. i think the writers didn't have much faith in them in that aspect but the conversation they have in s11 about going back or not to the new neighborhood made evident that they can communicate, they listen to each other and understand the reasons, each other's feelings. so yeah, i think they're gonna get even better at that and also they're not gonna wait that much to become parents. i think they eventually will find new jobs, ian will have his tomatoes and mickey will adore looking at him doing his thing every sunday morning. i really really think they finally found their peace, their home and are gonna be very very happy and disgustingly in love forever because they're also hopeless romantic and want that so bad.

im gonna tag a few people and as always feel free to do it or not <3 @lupeloto @mikhailoisbaby @mickeysgaymom @redwiccanrobin @lyricailove @energievie @depressedstressedlemonzest @juliakayyy

[youredreamingofroo]

a bit of a message talking about inactivity and my possible hiatus. I dont know if this counts as a cw but i talk about depression here and there at the beginning (nothing graphic) and as usual, its a rant

im gonna be straight honest rn, i'm probably not gonna be active on tumblr for these next few days, ive been super up and down depressed and im just unmotivated and too tired to do anything, im still gonna check in here and there but dont expect me to reblog or reply to many posts, if at all. This could mark the beginning of a hiatus, but with mood swings and up and down depression, i could be back, active as ever tomorrow. Ever since ive uninstalled Sims 4, i did feel a weight lift off my shoulders, but simultaneously made me depressed due to the lack of... well... doing something, i dont... really know how to put it into words, its just something in my brain that i just cant explain, i guess a good way to put it is playing sims 4 gave me the motivation to stem off into other mediums, blender for example, gave me something to do, something to learn, and while i can still use blender, i just get progressively slower and slower at doing stuff in it because of my limited resources, some scenes i want to do require specific outfits and i dont have the facilities to make those outfits... i mean i probably do but i just dont feel motivated to do all that. I still play other games, ive been playing a lot of slime rancher 2 and have been trying to branch out to other games (indie games and bigger games), I want to post gameplay but if youve seen me rant about tumblr before, one of my biggest gripes is just how fucking annoying it is to upload images, so i just get completely unmotivated to post images/gameplay especially if its just some silly post. if uh if anyone is still reading this, ill be honest, i havent even been motivated to write about WAS at all, probably havent touched the planning doc in about 2 weeks. This... 'spiral'... has been noticeable for me for the last week as my sleep schedule gets swapped around from sleeping at night and awake during the day... to sleeping during the day and awake at night, this is all my fault, but its also just something that happens rotationally for me, i go from sleeping VERY early in the evening (6PM at the earliest) and waking at VERY early times in the morning (4AM at the latest) to sleeping VERY late in the morning (6AM at the earliest) and waking up late in the evening (3PM at the latest), i dont really know what causes the shift, but it happens, and i often blame myself for it even though i dont know what causes it...

anyways sorry, this will probably mark a very iffy hiatus, like i said ill be active but not... super active, i didnt check tumblr at all yesterday/monday, so thats kind of the pattern to expect from me depending on the day. In the meantime... i might try to get back into older sims games, ive mentioned this before, but i do have sims 1 on my laptop so maybe ill post stupid little gameplay posts from there (granted i havent played in like... a month 😐). I'll probably put up a poll after this post for people to vote on which sims game i should play- i KNOW i did it once before but im probably gonna do it again cuz i cant find the post and i have over 1000 posts 😭

if you read thus far, thank you for sticking around, if your a random person who read this for no reason... thanks? if your a follower of mine and cant understand where im coming from with this lengthy post, see yourself out or deal with it 🙃 otherwise, thank you all and i will be lurking about

[growling]

I want tea on the annoying dude. Is it the same annoying dude I have i am so curious. Pls post results if you unblock them

*whispering while leaning over to you and giggling motherfuckerly* okay sooo get this. a while ago there was some dude that was a huge yomi fan and kept reblogging my yomi posts with increasingly sexual tags but i didn't care back then just considered them a slightly peculiar if a bit annoying individual, however they earned a dubiously-affectionate nickname of the "yomi pissdrinker guy from my tags". they reblogged one of ur shipping tournament posts just saying that, one of the ships, makoyomi, "feels weird to them/freaks them out (something among those lines idk man who cares)" but like, that's normal it wasn't like anything yet so i just thought "fair lol your opinion mate" and nothing else of it then carried on with my day. which lasted like a few minutes before i checked their blog again you know just to check just youknoww and then got blasted with. you know ill just get a screenshot i am not strong enough to comment on any of the attached sentences

i like the ^_^ that's just standing there this is so funny to me

so i just thought to myself "good lird" and made a post myself saying that i better not see any of u telling the other kids ur gonna kill them for shipping short people or daddy will be real pissed off you do not want to see me when i'm mad you're not ready for me to unleash the beast within me🐺. like a good citizen. after which either immediately after or max a day later they sent an ask to ur tournament blog basically saying "i want to say meannnn things especially towards makoyomi but im trying to contain the demons and be civil. now thank me peasant" which was on anon but i knew it was them because ok this is gonna sound kinda unhinged but that was at the early time period when i kept tabs on everyone in the tag (which also means i know which one is your annoying guy too and nope its not them) and recognized their unique typing style and persona seeping through their inexperienced anon fingers but also mostly because they just posted about hating it mere moments ago. and i just couldn't stop thinking about them since them i am enamoured with whatever they got going on and wish to study tyem further. the world feels so empty without them. they're like the batman to my joker all i want is to just hear their voice again serenading me with their beautiful visceral description or perhaps a promise on how they're gonna fuck yomi up the pussy raw

[quicklikelight]

... In light of the last thing I reblogged, since I'm not actually sure if I ever I ever told folks here...

Mental health/medical diagnosis info under the cut.

I was misdiagnosed with bipolar disorder in 2010 following the birth of my son. I'd had anxiety, depression, and what I now know is OCD symptoms for years at that point, but they all got much worse after kiddo was born. I believe I've shared here before that I was very ill while pregnant, and nearly died before and during my emergency C-section that bright kiddo into the world. I have very few memories of my pregnancy but the ones I do have are impressed into my brain like the world's most depressing stamp collection: not neat pictures, but deep grooves that form shapes and can be laid over one another to see the cumulative chaos, the terror that I still feel every time someone puts a blood pressure cuff around my arm, the dissociation from my body that I still have because all I can remember was it hurting.

I had cptsd before I ever got pregnant, but my pregnancy made my symptoms so much worse, and a doctor who spoke to me for three seconds gave me the "convenient" diagnosis of bipolar disorder. I was a young woman in college, it was 2010, and he never asked me anything about my life. This diagnosis wasn't corrected until 2022.

I'm sharing this because in the past I frequently blogged about being bipolar. I wasn't bipolar though. What I thought was mania was just my behavior when I was triggered beyond my ability to ignore. What I thought was depression was... Well, it was depression. My life was miserable, my ex is a horrible human being who deserves to be thrown in a deep pit full of snakes, my family hates me and acts like it, I lived in Texas of all places, and on top of that I was working in a dead end job that I couldn't ever seem to escape.

In 2020, I was fortunate enough to move in with my friend LC and her family. We weathered the worst of lockdown together, our children becoming close friends, and I'm grateful for the time, energy, space, and love LC afforded me to begin recovering from a lifetime of wounds.

I'm 2021, I moved to New York state to live with my best friend, my heart's companion, @tofixtheshadows. Dea has been the best partner I could want as I grappled with my changing sense of self, the sheer madness and unreality of what my life used to be. I am so fortunate to call her my best friend and to be able to share my life with someone who knows me and wants to help me be better.

I found a psychiatrist in 2022 who changed my life when she said, "I believe everything you say that happened to you. I think bipolar disorder is a convenient diagnosis for a man to give a traumatized young woman when he isn't interested in doing his job well. You aren't bipolar, Anne. You have PTSD."

I was shocked. I shouldn't have been, since I already knew Dea thought I had PTSD. But it seemed so out of left field to me, that... Well, that maybe there hadn't been anything inherently wrong with me in the first place, as I had been led to believe, but that the years of horrible actions happening around and to me had just taken their toll.

It was liberating. Scary, but good.

I've been working with my psychiatrist and a therapist since to try and build more tolerance, better coping skills, and to process my trauma. It's slow going. Life doesn't stop because I need EMDR. But it's ultimately been so rewarding, and I'm still only in the early stages of the work.

Last year, for basically the first time in my adult life, I was able to go off of all my mood altering medications. I just didn't need them anymore.

I'm still in treatment and working toward goals that will probably take a while. But I am happy. I'm actually happy for the first time in my entire life. And to me, that's pretty much everything.