#sobbed for like ten straight minutes over Mars

[m0thcl0wn]

alright dnd rambles

going to drop some characters so they make a little sense when i ramble

Honey/Bug/Pluto: my character, all the same person, they're a swords bard changeling who's now finally going by their true name Pluto after everything happened- ill switch between Honey and Pluto.

There will be a little bit where I will refer to Pluto as a different person because of how changelings work in this campaign. Kintsugi (Kins): my fellow player, war-forged cleric/paladin multiclass, daughter of Amen Rei (their god)

Gintsugi (Gins): Kins' sister, the golden cloak

Infierna: high priestess of the church of Amen Rei

Mars: changeling, Honey's ex but also they had spoken after and re-confessed that they loved each other but promised to talk after the battle, keeper of the town

Dro'kar: second Honey love interest, vampire and lord of the town

Alton: my adoptive dad <3

Jack: third love interest whoops, once-upon-a-time bbeg but he is in love with Honey. Jack is the bard of bards, only fought with them because of honey

Liktor: robot, keeper of the town

The changeling family: if I say any planet name (Venus, Neptune, Jupiter, Mercury, I.O etc etc) theyre a changeling and important to Pluto

Yorick: THE bbeg, who we killed

last night was our 'final' battle- what was meant to be the finale but we begged out dm to go to lvl 20 (we reached lvl 13 after that fight)- and it was fucking INSANE

So to start out its just honey and kins fighting against some raised dead red moon knights (from the church of Amen Rei) that were kinda beating our fucking asses- slowly, people start turning up and we can randomly check on others as they do their fight

The fights away from the main fight were the town defenders consisting of Dro'kar, Alton and some of the other main npcs as well as Dro'kar's familiar. Then there was the changeling family + Trina the fairy of Primon (Primon is the town, Trina is also Honey's adoptive mum as of recent). And lastly the church led by Infierna at first and helped my Mercury on Honey's orders.

Back to our fight we're getting our ass kind beat, Yorick is sending his trump cards out to fight the other teams which include a chimera, a gargoyle and a giant golden lion as well as the dead red moon knights. We are fighting the red moon knights, Yorick himself, and Yoricks final trump card whos name I cant spell but hes a dick and also a semi god (aka, fighting TWO gods. not our first god fight either lmao).

Gintsugi shows up to help us first, then Infierna, then Mars and Jupiter- and then at some point Honey agrees to the terms of a contract and gets Jack involved who focuses on Yorick alongside Liktor. Zeke (uhh Dro'kars dead fiancee, Willow's familiar gifted to Honey to help out) is also there throwing hands with the 2nd semi god, and FINALLY our last help is a giant iron golem that guards the woods.

Honey almost fucking dies a couple times, Yorick keeps counterspelling his counterspells and throwing legendary actions his way. Venus interrupts a spell Mars does and Yorick kills Venus. Pluto has to tell her husband, Neptune, who desperately tries to stop the attack to focus, Neptune dies at some point but we don't know what happens. Yorick's attention turns to Pluto who's giving him a lot of trouble and casts Disintegrate on him, which would have killed him as he was on 3 hp at the time.

But Mars, a paladin, has Pluto in his aura and redirects the hit to himself. While smiling at Pluto, just before he dies, Mars tells him "I think you've got it from here" and then turns to dust.

I sobbed.

That's when Pluto got his awakening. Changelings get a special ability they can unlock in their very very worst moments, Pluto's has been slowly building during the lead up to this battle, and losing Mars is the finale straw. A huge dome of ice surrounds him and all people can hear from outside is him screaming in agony. Pluto shows up- the old Pluto, the original holder of his name and his gift- and finally they get their gift. A set of deep black wings and ice magic.

Pluto gets all his hps back (theyre not fully there, theyre basically temporary, he still needs to be fully healed after everything) and then starts throwing hands with Yorick who gets scared and runs away after aiming three meteorites at the manor in town (very important building, town is done for if thats gone). Liktor dies, Jack is down and out of the fight but not dead, leaving Pluto, Kins and Gins, Infierna, Zeke and Jupiter. Jupiter and Gins leave to protect the manor. Pluto, Kins, Infierna and Zeke head down into the catacombs to finish this fight. This whole time no joke ive been rolling LIKE ASS. BUT FINALLY. My first few hits on Yorik is a NAT 20 upped to 31 AND then an 18 upped to 25. Great, Yoricks looking ROUGH.

YORICK KILLS KINTSUGI. RAISES HER AS A THRALL AND BANISHES PLUTO.

Zeke breaks the concentration by attacking Kintsugi after Infierna refuses to attack her love. The concentration ends, Pluto is back ON HIS TURN IN INITIATIVE.

And takes Yorick's head off his shoulders.

Wise ol' Eloquin, fate itself, shows up in this last part because Pluto can see him, and Yorick's fate is finally sealed, the fate he thought he had cut himself from. They return back to Primon, the manor is standing but the town itself is back in ruins. Mars, Venus and Neptune are dead, Liktor is dead. They're the only deaths. Kintsugi is bought back by Infierna who saved her last spell slot for that exact reason.

And that's where the session ended.

[lubdubsworld]

The Devil’s own.

Jungkook x OC

Mafia Au!

Warnings : Non-Con ! Manipulation, Degradation, Shitty hero with no redeeming Qualities you have been warned. ( i mean he does get better but not much.)

Summary : Just Mob Boss Jungkook doing mob boss things.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

I wasn’t sure how long I stayed there , staring at the ceiling and trying to come to terms with what had just happened. It was revolting. It was nauseating. It made me want to claw my own skin off. I stared at the intricate designs , carved into the ceiling, the panels that reflected life and made the room seem bigger than it was. The scent of jasmine and rosemary clung to the sheets and the drapes in the room, cloyingly sweet and meant to arouse the occupants.

I wondered how I’d got here.

I had memories of satin silk sheets and bright lights. My father had always spoiled me, the best of the best only for his only daughter and I’d indulged in luxury to my heart’s content. More shoes than I could possibly wear in a life time. Every season’s collection, straight into my wardrobe whether I asked for it or not. Diamonds and rubies and emeralds set in platinum and gold , jewelry to match my clothes and even my car if I felt like it.

I shut my eyes in despair. I didn’t miss the luxury as much as I missed the solitude. The option to just not do anything. My father hadn’t cared enough to see what I was upto and everyone knew that I was betrothed to Jungkook.

And that meant no dates or party invites because after the third guy got his arm in a sling after accidentally brushing past me , word kind of spread.  Stay away from Elena Gong or the Jeon kid will break your bones.

I shuddered. It had been an obsession, I thought vacantly.

Jungkook had been obsessed, even back then. I just hadn’t paid much heed to him. Because Jungkook back then had been terrifying but also ridiculously endearing in some way. He had seemed for lack of a better word…..insignificant. I was beautiful and rich, never lacked for attention and he was just one among the dozens. Even if I was betrothed to him, I hadn’t given much thought to him.

And Jungkook had taken my indifference in stride. He’d laughed and played around and I hated to admit it, treated me like a queen. Flowers, chocolates and gifts every other day . He would follow me around like a puppy , and I wondered if perhaps my dismissive attitude towards him back then had been a mistake. Did it push him over the edge?

My heart ached fiercely and when I finally willed myself to move, my body protested.

Every inch of me was sore and aching. My head because of how hard he’d gripped my hair. I sat up on shaky legs, fingers trembling as I pulled my shit up to stare at my body. Bite marks littered my skin, marring the smooth surface and I felt bile in my throat at the memory of his teeth on me.  Finger shaped bruises were beginning to bloom around my thighs and I couldn’t breathe over the agony ripping up my insides.

I glanced down between my thighs, at the sticky mess of his release dripping down into the sheets, staining the sheets a murky pink. I shuddered, disgusted. God, I hated him. Where was my phone? My clothes were still there at the foot of the bed and I noticed the small door on the right wall. Crawling off the bed on shaky legs , I limped carefully to the bathroom.

I took Hoseok’s shirt off dropping it in the corner before turning the showers on.

The water felt like a whip on my skin as I sat on the tiled bathroom floor , a small washcloth gripped tight in my hand as I carefully cleaned myself up. I had no idea what the time was… It must be very early or very late. No matter. I had to get out of here and get to Jisoo. I swallowed, imagining her alone all this time. The doctors had said she would be up in Guilt churned as I quickly grabbed a towel from the closet and wiped myself down.

It took me another ten minutes to finish dressing up and just as I finished slipping into my shoes, the door opened.  I glanced up, catching sight of Hoseok as he leaned against the door. He looked a little haggard, a black silk shirt unbuttoned to his chest and tucked into fitted jeans. I stared at him, watching the way his gaze roved over every inch of exposed skin, looking just a tad bit worried.

“The Hospital called. “ He said gently, “ They’re ready to release you sister. They want to know if you can come pick her up. The baby’s going to have to stay in the NICU for a couple of weeks.”

I groaned. Great. More bills.

“I need a job. “ I said miserably. “ Help me out.” I stared at him beseechingly and Hoseok gave me a look.

“you know the kind of jobs I provide. You’re not built for it. “ He said shortly and I shook my head, impatient.

“that’s not what I meant and you know it. You and your friends pretty much own every club in the city. Get me a job ….” I whispered, moving to stand in front of him and he recoiled.

Just as always, I thought bitterly. Coward.

As much as a coward now as he’d been ten years ago, when he’d pretended that he didn’t have any feelings for me. Pretended that he didn’t give a damn about me.

The throb in my skull grew in intensity.

My throat was dry and I felt my vision swim a bit. I was tired. Exhausted . I hadn’t slept in….how long really? I hadn’t eaten in a day…for sure… And I likely wasn’t going to be eating for a long while, let alone feeding Jisoo if I didn’t get a job right away. I had twelve thousand won to my name and that was it.

“Jungkook-“ He began but I was sick of his name so I growled.

“Fuck, do you want me to beg Hoseok? I will… I can’t … I need a job… Please.” I said desperately, staring at him and his gaze softened.

“Elena, stop looking at me like that, fuck.” He swore, turning and punching the wall hard. “ fuck.”

“Just help me get a job. I’m not asking you to give me money or something.  You don’t even have to get it for me… Just tell me who’s hiring ? Somewhere away from Jungkook and his men.” I whispered , and the sheer irony of it didn’t escape me. Jung Hoseok was possibly one of Jungkook’s main men.

He ran his hand over his forehead, shaking his head.

“You’re going to get me killed someday.” He muttered, “ Fine. There’s a club down in Itaewon. It caters to cops and lawyers exclusively so Jungkook and his men usually keep out of it. My friend owns the place. His name is Im Jaebum.  I’ll get you a job there , waitressing. Is that alright?” He said softly and I wanted to sob in relief as I nodded. Itaewon meant pretty close to where the bakery was. I could take the bus.

“Fine. I’ll talk to him and call you. Here…” He held out a wad of cash and I took it greedily, eyes widening at the 100,000 written on the margin of each note. This was a lot of money.

“Hoseok…”I said stunned and he shrugged. “ Get food and baby stuff for Jisoo. If she’s going to feed the baby she needs to eat well. Fruits and veggies and lot of protein. If you run out, tell Jaebum you need some advance. He’ll pay you well.”

I nodded, stuffing the money into my pockets quickly . I swallowed when my insides throbbed, aching something fierce.

“Thank you.” I said softly, staring up at him and he hesitated, before reaching out and gently cupping my face in his palm. I flinched at his touch and he recoiled.

“Was he… Did he hurt you?” He whispered quietly and I smiled bitterly.

“Wasn’t that the whole point?” I sighed, shaking my head . I hesitated . I wasn’t sure if Hoseok would listen to me but I had to try at least.

“ Can you not tell him? That… That I was a virgin?” I asked quietly and he nodded.

“Wasn’t planning to.” He said casually.

I stared at him. I’d always found him handsome. Beautiful. Perfect . And I wondered where we had gone so wrong.

“Do you regret it.” I whispered. “ All those choices you made.”

“Which ones? …” he asked bitterly.

“you know… “ I snapped. “ the ones that lead us here. You and me…. Standing here like strangers. “

“I wouldn’t risk my life for a stranger. Which is what I’m doing every time I help you .” He said quietly.

“So what are we then?” I demanded.

“Old friends” He said casually.

I snorted.

“Fucking coward.” I whispered , loud enough for him to hear as I brushed past him and walked away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I trudged all the way to the VIP room in the hospital flinching because that was probably a lot of money to be repaid , now owed directly to the devil spawn that was Jeon. I had grabbed a small meal on the way before quickly getting the bus to the Hospital. It was little past eleven in the morning and the hallways were packed with people. Sighing, I moved to the room where Jisoo was, slowly opening the door.

Min Yoongi sat on the chair next to the bed, gazing idly at my sister in law.

To say that I was shocked would be the biggest understatement of the century. My lips parted in shock, panic bubbling up inside me as I exhaled sharply.

“What-“ I swallowed gazing between him and my Jisoo, who was sitting up against the backrest on the bed, a tray of food on her lap and a small smile on her face.

“Lena!! You’re here!” She cried out softly, tears filling her eyes at once as she held both her hands up. I moved to hug her but my mind stayed on the man near the bed, his sultry feline eyes trained unblinkingly on her. I wrapped my arms around her, trying to get my breathing to regulate but it was impossible.

What on earth was Yoongi doing here?

“Mr. Min came to see me. He told me he knew Daehwan.” Jisoo said softly, looking sad but hopeful and I felt my heart turn over as I turned to stare at him.

Min Yoongi knew Daehwan as a target . A hit he had carried out himself.

But I couldn’t say a thing. Not in front of Jisoo.

“I’m only here to offer my help. It pains me to see you suffering, Jisoo. I know your husband would want you to be taken care of.” He said softly, his gaze still fixed on her and I didn’t like it. At all.

Bile rising, I gave him a glare.

“I’ll take care of her. Please don’t trouble yourself.” I said shakily and he glanced at me, lips parting a bit, turning into a smirk.

“You look… well rested.” He smirked and I flushed.

“Lena, come on… I know all this…this must be expensive. We can use all the help we can get and Mr. Min-“

“Please call me Yoongi, sweetheart.” Yoongi said charmingly and my sister in law blushed. I felt my skin crawl.

“Y-Yoongi said he has a spare room. I can’t stay in the bakery.  And it’s not like he’s a murderer or anything. He showed me his card. He’s a lawyer.” She said softly and I sighed in despair. Jisoo was naïve bordering on stupid and I wasn’t equipped to deal with this.

As I watched she went back to the food, eating ravenously and I felt my heart clench. I could see the twin damp spots at her chest and I noticed the breast pump on the table. It looked brand new. I hadn’t even thought about things she may need after the baby, too preoccupied with all the hospital bills and medicines I would have to pay for.

Diapers. Baby wipes. Those little flannel pieces mothers used to wipe down the baby. I felt my head spin, turning to Yoongi who was staring at me casually.

“Can we talk?” I said quietly and he straightened.

“Jisoo ssi… Please enjoy your meal. And here…” He gave her his phone. “ If you’re done, just give me a buzz on this.” He showed her something on the phone .” Go on try it.”

Jisoo pressed down on the screen curiously and Yoongi’s watch rang .

He grinned as she smiled.

“See? One touch and I’ll be here yeah?” He said softly, and I felt like I was stuck in some kind of drama, glancing between the pair of them.

“Are you leaving?” She asked curiously and he shook his head.

“I’ll be right here, outside. Having a word with Elena. You can finish your food and I’m guessing it’s time for you to pump again? The pediatrician said you’d have to pump every two hours with the milk so… if you get it ready, I’ll drop it off at the NICU.” He said calmly.

Jisoo nodded, staring at him with wide eyed gratefulness and I sighed in despair.

Yoongi moved to the door and I gave her a small smile before following him.

I waited till the door had closed behind me before turning to him, furious.

“What do you think you’re-“

“I want her.” He said shortly.

I felt my jaw come unhinged.

“No.” I hissed, furious and helpless with rage. “ Yoongi-“

“Don’t make me put a bullet in your head for this, Elena.” He said calmly and I exhaled shakily.

“She’s… You know she’s not like us. She doesn’t know anything about this life. As far as she knows my brother was a surgeon who got killed in a hit and run. You want to …. What do you really want? Did Jungkook put you upto this?”

“If Jungkook would have his way, your sister in law and your new nephew would both be dead. You know this.” Yoongi said casually. God, could I ever have a conversation with anyone without Jungkook being dragged into it? When did my life get twined so intimately with him?

“Where is he?” I asked quickly and Yoongi shrugged.

“He’s out of the country. He left an hour ago.”

“Switzerland….” I said before thinking and Yoongi stiffened.

“How did you know?” He demanded and I froze.

“I… I overheard …..someone.” I muttered and Yoongi moved so fast I barely caught it. The next second I was pressed up against the wall, his forearm pressing into my throat and holding me down while he held a knife right against my jugular.

“Nice try. Now the truth.” He hissed.

“Ouch..” I choked out , coughing  a bit. “ Fine.. Hoseok.. Hoseok told me.”

Yoongi pulled back.

“You fukcing him?” He asked casually and I glared at him.

“none of your business.” I snapped.

He laughed at that.

“I know you aren’t. Hoseok loves his dick too much to risk having it castrated.”

I sighed, shaking my head. I wasn’t here to talk about these bastards.

“Just leave Jisoo alone.” I said quietly and Yoongi sighed.

“What are you going to do with her, Elena. You can barely afford to feed yourself. You should be thankful I’m taking her off your hands.”

I ignored his nonsense and moved till I was pressed up against him, fingers curling into his chest. Yoongi looked surprised, lips twisting in displeasure when I blinked up at him.

“please.. Yoongi…” I begged, “ Don’t do this to me.” I said quietly. “ I … she’s all I have… She… My brother had nothing to do with any of this. You know that….He left this life decades ago. I don’t… I don’t know why Jungkook wanted him dead in the first place. I loved my brother and my brother loved his wife. I owe it to him … Please…just…Please leave her alone.” I whispered softly, letting my fingers drop to grip his arm.  

He tugged his arm away at once.

“ She needs more than empty platitudes and good intentions. She needs food and a place to stay with her baby. I’m giving her that.”

“And what do you get in return?” I demanded angrily. “ She just gave birth, fuck you. You can’t touch her , not unless you’ve lost the last shreds of humanity in that conscience of yours.”

He rolled his eyes.

“I’m not doing this for sex, Elena. If I wanted easy pussy, I would have come to you…” He smirked.  “ Don’t forget that Jungkook and I share our toys, yeah?”

I opened my mouth to retort before remembering that I was trying to get him to listen to him.

“Then why? What do you want…tell me?”

“I told you. I want her. As she is.” Yoongi shrugged.

“You killed her husband.” I said , voice shaking as I remembered what Jungkook had said. About my brother begging for his life because Jisoo was pregnant. And how Yoongi hadn’t given a shit and shot him anyway.

“A minor inconvenience. Trust me if I’d seen her before I killed him…” He sighed, shaking his head in regret and I frowned.

“You would have spared him? “ I asked bitterly and Yoongi laughed.

“No.. I would have killed him sooner.” He smirked. “ Is there a point to this whole conversation… I’m getting bored and Jisoo’s waiting inside.”

“We’re supposed to get her out of the hospital today and-“

“I’m taking her home.” He said briskly. “ I’ve already spoken to her. And She’s agreed that a ramshackle , dilapidated bakery isn’t the right place for a new mother and a tiny baby.”

And the worst part was that I couldn’t even disagree.

And I couldn’t help but feel angry, betrayed. Jisoo was…. How could she? She hadn’t even bothered to talk to me about it… Just agreeing to move in with Yoongi. She was older than me. Supposed to be the smart one. My body ached. If that was the bed she was going to make , she could lie on it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Going somewhere?” Jungkook’s voice made me freeze.

I swallowed, straightening and stepping back almost instinctively. He stood in the doorway, a cigarette held between his teeth as he stared at me . He looked like he’d showered as well, hair still damp and the smells of citrus and mint permeating the air around him.

It was exactly ten days since I’d last seen him and I’d settled into a routine of sorts. Im Jaebum’s bar, Venom was an exclusive club in Itaewon and I could easily disappear into the shadows, staying low and using the beret ( a part of the uniform ) to keep my face hidden as I served the patrons. Like Hoseok had said, the place was filled with cops and lawyers. Yoongi was a frequent fixture here , stopping for just a drink on most days before heading home to my sister in law.

It made me sick but there was nothing I could do about it. Jisoo and little baby Yunsu were both home and needed a l,ot of care. And Yoongi apparently had a cook, a housekeeper and a nanny who helped her out. Jisoo was wary, her senses finally returning but she was also clearly glad to be out of the streets.

“I’m going home after I finish my shift. “ I said softly, trying not to stare as he stepped into the room. I turned away from him moving to the shelves and pushing the small canister in place.

“Where’s home?” He asked casually. I flinched when he stepped right behind me, fingers reaching out to curl on my shoulder, pulling me back till I was flush against his chest. The heat of his body seeped in through the thin fabric of my blouse and I felt my body heat up.

“You got what you wanted.” I said shakily. “ Let me go.” I whispered, dropping the cleaning cloth in the tray on the lower shelves, before moving to grab the mop. I just had to finish mopping the floor . And then I could leave.

But his grip on me stayed firm. I couldn’t move. Foreboding rose inside me.

Jungkook hummed at that, stepping closer, till I felt his chin brush the top of my head as he bent over me, arms coming around me  and fingers lightly unbuttoning the first two buttons of my  shirt. I stared at the dark ink on his forearm. , swallowing as he kept coming closer.

“What I wanted? That pathetic little display ten days ago?”  He whispered softly “ Just think about this Elena ……  I’ve been chasing you for years, I got rid of your entire family and yet I let you live. Why do you think that was, huh? “ He shook his head, “ For two minutes of you lying underneath me like a frigid bitch? You think that’s what I want Elena? Think I’ll be satisfied with that? ” He laughed.

I stared at the wall in front of me  and I couldn’t do this. Couldn’t play this sick game with him. Not when he kept changing the rules . Not when there was nothing left for me to gamble or lose.

“Jisoo. I have to go see her. Just… Just let me go see her. I need to see if she’s alright and then we can talk. ” I whispered. Jungkook smiled, tilting my  head to the side with his fingers. I felt the damp press of his lips against my jaw and my skin crawled.

“Don’t worry, Yoongi’s taking care of her.” He whispered softly and I felt my heart turn over in my chest at the reminder. I’d been forced to relent because Yoongi had taken her home to a fully finished and decorated nursery , a closet full of baby clothes for her son and nursing clothes for her. She had been bowled over and when I’d told her to think about the why of it…she’d given me a helpless sort of smile. . As far as she was concerned , Yoongi had been nothing but generous and kind… And she wasn’t going to say no to him because she couldn’t afford to..

“I… he promised me he’d let me see her. And the baby…every day. That was the deal.”

Jungkook laughed.

“I thought I made this clear . You don’t get to make deals with anyone because you belong to me. I get to decide what happens to you. Anytime. Anywhere. Do you need another demonstration , Elena?” His hand moved to my breast, groping the flesh, fingers rough and hard and I whimpered in pain.

“No..” I choked out , eyes widening in terror and he made quick work of the rest of the buttons on my blouse. Junkook hummed, kissing the back of my neck and slowly turning me around in his arms.

“Relax. You don’t have a job. How are you going to feed her and the kid? Yoongi isn’t like me. He doesn’t hold a lot of grudges. And for some reason he seems to have a hard on for your sister in law. He wants to marry her. ” He chuckled and I felt nausea bloom.

“No.. Don’t… Don’t do that to her. She’s not like us. She doesn’t know… She doesn’t have anything to do with this life.” I begged, heart racing at the thought of Jisoo, helpless and scared and alone with a baby , trapped with a fucking assassin. Yoongi killed for a living . That was his job. Jisoo was delicate and sensitive.

“She still needs to eat and live right? With what?  He’s feeling particularly generous so he’s taken her home . You don’t have to worry about them anymore… Isn’t that nice?” he smirked and I felt my throat go dry.

I clenched my fists, feeling my breath catch.

“The only person you need to worry about yourself is yourself. Isn’t that how you prefer it anyway? Beautiful selfish Elena who never gave a fuck about anyone but herself. Isn’t that who you truly are, angel?” He smiled.

“Not anyone…. Just you… I don’t give a fuck about you.” I said defiantly, staring right up at him.  

Jungkook stared at me and stepped closer, reaching out and running his fingers up and down my cheek. I flinched because he still held the lit cigarette.

“None at all?”  He asked curiously, lightly tapping on the end of the cigarette, and I flinched when the hot ash spilled onto my shoulder.

“Did that hurt, baby?” He whispered, leaning in and pressing the cigarette to my lips.” I’m sorry. Breathe in for me.” He stuck the cigarette into my mouth and I pulled away , coughing and disgusted.

I closed my eyes as his free hand went to my wrist, tugging me closer. I stiffened as he wrapped his arms around me, drawing me in till my face pressed against his chest, his body flush against mine, one hand moving back to stroke my back.

“I missed you. You’re terrible at pleasing me but I think…with a little bit of training, you can make me cum… ” He smirked. “ Let’s start with a blowjob, yeah?”

I stiffened.

“No.” I said softly and he smirked, pulling back.

“No?” He asked softly. . I felt my throat go dry in fear as I noticed the way his gaze shifted.   I bit my lips to stifle the pain as He carefully pressed the lit end of the cigarette right against the curve of my breast , pressing in for a couple of seconds and pulling away just before the skin began to singe. He glanced up at me, and I blinked through the tears, pain spreading all over my chest at the burn. That would leave a scar, I thought miserably.

“Wrong answer. Try again.” He whispered.

“Go to Hell.” I choked out.

I flinched when his fingers slipped up into my hair, gripping hard. My scalp burned, sharp and insistent and instinct made me grip his wrist, trying to get him off but it was impossible.

“Let me go..” I snapped, glaring at him. God, How I hated him.

“Was I your first??” He whispered, dragging me close enough that his lips brushed my ear. “ Never had a cock before? Was that why you were so fucking tight?”

I bit my lips, glaring at him, defiant and furious. Did Hoseok actually tell him? That two faced snake…. God , why did these fuckers never leave me alone?

“Seokjin hyung told me…Told me he was looking forward to breaking a virgin and that made me think….God, I was the first cock she ever had….” He hummed, looking infinitely pleased.

“Yes. And I got to say… I don’t know what the fuss is about. You couldn’t even make me cum.” I snapped and Jungkook grinned, grip tightening and the other hand moving to curl around my waist, squeezing hard.

“Did I make you bleed from between your legs Elena? Tell me I did….Cause that’s fucking hot. ” He whispered, voice low and gruff.

Jungkook, I thought vacantly, was a psychopath.

“Go to Lisa. Go fuck her and make her bleed if that’s what gets you off….  and leave me alone.” I whispered and he smiled, bending down pressing a kiss right where he’d burned my skin.

“I don’t need you to tell me that. She’s my fiancé. The woman I’m going to marry. And you know what that means? I actually give a shit whether she cums or not. And trust me she does. Multiple times. Sometimes so hard she passes out.”

“Or maybe she fakes it. Maybe she passes out because she can’t stand your touch either.” I shrugged. “ Because we all know that’s what she’s good at Jungkook. She faked her friendship with me , she’ll fake her loyalty to you.”

“Always got something smart to say, huh Elena? Let’s see how mouthy you get when I’m shoving my cock down your throat.”

I flinched when he pushed me, hard enough to send me sprawling on the floor. I caught myself with difficulty , throwing my hands out to keep my head from hitting the floor. I flinched at the pain that shot up my body, every inch throbbing because of how rough this fucker had been with me.

Ten days and the aftermath of that night still lingered on me.

And it was three in the morning  and I’d spent eight hours on my feet bussing tables , I was exhausted.

I closed my eyes, before pressing my palm against the floor, trying to pull myself up when I felt the press of his shoe at the base of my spine, pushing me down.

I whimpered in shock, my hands giving out and shoulder crashing down into the floor.

“Stay down for a second, baby.” He whispered and I exhaled.

I pressed my palm against the floor, head dropping on to the carpeted floor . I whimpered when I felt him crouch down, foot digging in harder into my back and I curled my fingers into the carpet to swallow the pained sound that bubbled up in my throat.

“I’m going to fuck you again. And this time I want you to do all the work.” Jungkook’s voice came from over me and I flinched. I considered the odds of me putting up a fight and actually winning. It was laughable. I wasn’t going to fight a force of nature. And that was what Jeon Jungkook was.

“ You can’t make me do anything Jungkook.” I whispered finally. “ You can hit me and rape me and kill me but you can’t make me do anything to you. You just have to live with that.”

His foot lifted off my spine and I felt hands on my arms, pulling me up till I was kneeling. I watched as he moved around to stand in front of me.

“Look at me.” He said carefully.” From now you only speak when I tell you to.”

“ Whatever.  Let’s get this over with so I can go see my sister and my nephew.“ I said shakily.

He sighed deeply at that, shaking his head.

“See, if it was upto me, I’d just put a bullet in both their heads. Cos at this point they’re just proving to be a nuisance.”

My blood turned to ice in my veins.

“ But,  Yoongi’s just getting to know your pretty little Jisoo…And he’s my favorite hyung. So I’m going to let her live. But, let’s not invade their privacy for a while.” He began unbuckling his belt and I felt nausea rise inside me.

“Jungkook?” The voice came from the door and I stiffened.  Jungkook groaned.

“Baby, what the fuck are you doing here?” He said gruffly, standing up and using his knee to push me out of the way roughly. I swore, gripping the edge of the table near me to steady myself before turning around to stare at the woman at the door.  I stumbled to my feet, still feeling a little out of it. I needed food. Before I collapsed in a heap on the floor.

“You were supposed to come see me tonight. I went looking for you everywhere and I find you here about to get with some common whore?”  she shouted and I stiffened, glaring at her.

She stood framed in the doorway, staring at me for a second before letting her gaze wander all over the room. She stared at me, eyes taking in the unbuttoned blouse and I quickly moved to put the buttons back on.

“Did you fuck her?” She demanded angrily and Jungkook hummed.

“Since when did I owe you answers, angel?” He asked casually and I watched the woman’s eyes widen, before her brows furrowed in a frown.

“ So what, I can’t ask you who you’re with ?” She asked angrily and Jungkook groaned , kicking out at the nearest stand with enough force to send it toppling over the side, crashing to floor and breaking on impact. I stumbled, back, wrapping my arms around myself as he fairly growled.

“What the fuck is up with all you cunts today?” He demanded, glancing at me in distaste. “ I come back after busting my ass at work for ten entire days . I just needed to get my dick sucked and you two.” He shook his head, hand reaching into his jacket and I felt my eyes widen when he pulled his glock out, releasing the safety and loading the gun before pressing the muzzle right against her skull.

The woman whimpered, hands held up as he tapped the firearm against her.

“You. You don’t come anywhere near me unless I send for you. Is that clear?” He asked sharply and she nodded frantically, abject terror written all over her face.

He turned to me.

“And you. You’re coming with me.” He said quietly and I felt my eyes widen. I opened my mouth to protest but the girl at the door beat me to it.

“I think not…. You’re not taking her anywhere, Jungkook, I’ll-“ She began, reaching forward to grab him and Jungkook moved so quickly, I could barely blink.

The shot rang out , making me jump and I watched as she crumbled to the floor, crying out in pain. I stared in horror, watching the hole in her arm, spilling blood all over the floor and the hallway and my throat went completely dry,  staring at the girl on the floor and the blank, absolutely merciless look on his face.

“Just because I let you sit on my cock once in a while, doesn’t mean you get a say in how I live my life.” He said quietly, using his foot to prod her hip. He glanced at me and I felt my throat go dry as he pulled the glock back to reload it.

He aimed the gun right at me, eyes dark and heavy.

“Are you going to be good for me, baby? Or do you need a physical demonstration as well?” He tilted his head to where the girl was on the floor, pressing her palm against her arm.

“She’s  bleeding out.. “ I choked out. “ you need to get her help, Jungk-“

Another shot rang out and I jumped, heart in my throat as I tried to understand what had happened. It took me a second to realize that he hadn’t shot me. That he had fired at the ceiling.

“Answer the bloody question Elena.” He growled and I flinched, nodding.

“I… I’ll listen… Just…” I glanced back at the poor girl on the floor.” Get her some help.”

Jungkook smiled a little. He turned to the girl on the floor and shook his head.

“Get up baby. Go find Hoseok and get that patched up, yeah? And don’t provoke me the next time, yeah? ” He said casually and she stumbled to her feet, looking disoriented and scared as she moved out of the door.

“ And you. “ He glared at me. “Finish dressing up and follow me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where are we going?” I asked nervously, fighting the instinct to just take off at a sprint, as we walked down the road to where his Mercedes was parked.

“My home. Where else?” He said casually and I stiffened.

“Jungkook-“

“Didn’t I tell you not to speak unless I ask you to, Elena? I’m jet lagged and angry. Trust me , you don’t want to piss me off now.” He said casually and I swallowed.

He opened the door for me, the polite gesture so at odds with what he was doing that my head began to throb.

But I climbed in nonetheless. I stayed quiet for the short ride to his apartment , eyes fixed straight ahead and Jungkook was quiet too. I was too exhausted to be scared, I thought despondently, my eyes drooping because of how long I’d been up. Glancing out the window, I watched the cars whizz by, people living their lives, completely unaware that almost all of them were merely tiny little gears in a machine run exclusively by men like Jungkook. That all their lives, spent working and earning and dying…it was all meaningless. They had no say in anything. People like Jungkook were the ones who got to shape the world to their liking. The ones who got to play God.

And Jungkook was definitely the closest to an omnipotent human I’d ever come across.

Powerful, untouchable and terrifying.

So perhaps, it was a little flattering, that I was the one thing he couldn’t get out of his head.

I glanced at him discreetly.

He was beautiful, I thought with a pang. One of the most beautiful men on this planet. Despite the years, his boyish charm was still right there on his face and he could slip on a plaid shirt , a white t shirt and stone wash jeans and pass off as an innocent college student. I stared at the taut jaw, the long column of his neck and the broad back. His biceps bulged when he gripped the steering when and my eyes lingered on the long fingers curled around the wheel.

I jumped when his hand moved to grip the stick shift , curling on the knob and yanking it back with force. I swallowed, thighs pressing together as my mind shifted to that night in Hoseok’s club. I hated myself for how often I relived it. And not always with disgust.

My fingers fell on the ring on his finger. His engagement ring, I thought with a pang. Lisa. Beautiful, wonderful Lisa who had been a dear friend . Once. For all her shortcomings I knew she loved the man who sat next to me. Cared deeply for him, even. Why else would she do this to me? She must have strong feelings for him , if  it had prompted her to throw away our friendship of over a decade.

“You’re cheating on her then.” I said quietly.  His reminder to not talk to him rang in my head but I couldn’t stop myself. He wasn’t a stranger. And that ring…the ring that promised to bind two people forever….. I’d worn it too. For him.

Jungkook didn’t reply, merely glancing at me in passing.

I sighed, looking at my knees, feeling my shoulders tremble a bit.

“Is she going to be there?” I asked quietly.

He exhaled sharply. I noticed the way his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“No.”  He said shortly.

“She lives with you right? You said we’re going home ….then where is she-“

“What is this, twenty fucking questions?” He snapped and I swallowed. “ I’m not taking you home to my fiancée Elena, do I look like a fucking idiot? “ He shook his head.

Before I could demand more answers, he was pulling over into a side alley. I watched as he carefully parked the car before stepping out.  Second later, he was coming around and opening the door.

I stared at him, gripping the hem of my blouse, tight. My stomach twisted into knots.

“Can’t you just let me go?” I whispered softly, pride forgotten in the wake of my tiredness. Jungkook stared at me, face eerily blank.

“Get out of the car.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Like it?” He asked softly and I stood on the threshold, taking in the lavishly decorated apartment on the top floor of the building. I noticed the portrait right up front, a large full sized photo of me and Jungkook from nearly a decade ago, wrapped around each other in a hug , showing off our engagement bands.

“What is this?”

“It was supposed to be your wedding gift. From me. I bought it for you. Nine years ago. Thought you should see it.” He said quietly.

I stayed perfectly still , as he wrapped his hands around me in a hug.

“Why did you leave me, Elena?” He asked quietly and I felt my throat go dry.

“Why do you still have this place? Get rid of it.” I snapped. He laughed at that , pulling away and turning me around till I stared at him.

“ Will you stay here, with me?” He asked softly and I froze.

“You’re out of your mind.” I said shortly.

He hummed.

“Possibly. But then, the problem is this. If I tell you , you can’t leave this place ever again….There’s not much you can do about it, right?” He said thoughtfully and I felt a sob building in my chest.

“I… Don’t.” I said shakily.

“You should see the bedroom. Come.”

His fingers wrapped around my wrist dragging me past the lavish couch and sofa, past a well kept bar onto a wide hallway dimly lit. He stopped at the second door on the right, reaching out to open the lock.  The room was plunged in darkness and I hesitated.

“Go on… After you, Mrs. Jeon.” He said softly . I could feel distaste creeping up my spine at the name, shivering a bit as I stepped into the darkness.

“Can you imagine, if we’d gotten married. This is what our first night together would be like…” He pressed against my back, arms coming around me , so gentle that I shivered.

“Jungkook…what are you doing?” I asked shakily.

“Shush…. “ He whispered, moving to unbutton my blouse again. I grabbed his wrists quickly.

“We aren’t married. I’m not your wife.” I said sharply and I felt him go still behind me.

“Shut your mouth and play along like a good girl.” He said quietly. He shook my hands off, moving to undo the buttons again.

Not sure what he expected, I stayed perfectly still as he hummed, pressing soft feather light kisses down my jaw and past my shoulders. His hands stroked up and down my arm as he laughed .

“Did you miss me Elena…..all these years…” He said quietly. “ Because I missed you. So much.”

He hugged me close, tight and hard.

“Are you scared?” He whispered, “ honey?”

“Oh, God…” I choked out, nausea rising up in my throat at the endearment.

“My wife…” He whispered, pressing a few more kisses against my skin before pushing me a bit towards the bed. “ Should I turn on the lights? I wanna see you.”

He nudged me towards the bed and my legs gave out when I hit the edge of it, legs turning to jelly as I sat on it, shaky and creeped out and terrified. Jungkook moved to turn on the lamp on the bedside table, a soft golden glow lighting up the bed .

“Look at you… so beautiful.” He whispered and I watched as he tugged off his shirt, before moving to his belt. He was watching me like I was something precious. Like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“What are you doing?” I asked quietly and he smiled, running his fingers over the tattoos decorating his chest. He stopped at a large ornate tiger lily, inscribed right over his heart.

“Do you like it?” he said softly. “ I got this for you. My Elena…. As delicate as a lily and as brave as a tiger.”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“Either fuck me or let me go, I’m not here to talk about-“

He slapped me, so hard that my head whipped to the side, my face feeling like it had caught fire. I gasped, the pain spreading all over my jaw and I couldn’t quite grasp what had just happened. I pressed shaky fingers to the throbbing skin near my mouth, eyes watering at the sting.

“Didn’t I tell you to play along, angel?” He whispered sharply and I closed my eyes , shuddering.

Play along. Do it if you want to get out of here alive. ‘

Fucking psychopath.

“ It’s beautiful, Jungkook.” I whispered softly, glancing at him with teary eyes. He nodded.

“We’ll get one for you too. A wolf. With the initials JK on it…. Right here…” He lightly traced a path over my collarbone and I hoped to God, this was some sick fantasy. That he wasn’t seriously considering tattooing his initials on me.

“Strip for me baby… All of it. I want to see you.” He whispered and I hesitated just long enough to take a deep breath. I reached back, quickly undoing my bra clasp and pulling the fabric off.  I hooked my thumbs into my skirt and my panties, tugging both of them off me, swiftly. I dropped all of it on the floor next to the bed, before moving to kneel in the middle of the bed, staring at him with a smile that felt physically painful.

“I’m going to make you feel good, baby.” He whispered quietly, crawling over on top of me.

“Lay down for me.” He said, and I felt repulsed, as he kissed my lips, soft and gentle, pressing in till I was flat on my back, legs parted so he could lie in between.

It was so different from last time and somehow ten times worse.

Jungkook pressed kisses all over my face, whispering gentle words against my skin that felt like acid.

“So beautiful…. Mine. You were always mine Elena. Mine to touch and mine to break . Mine to love and mine to fuck.”

I stared as he loomed over, his face inches from mine, his gaze deceptively affectionate, his eyes warm and almost soft. I watched as he came closer, his lips closing over mine. Instinctively I kept my lips together but his fingers curled around my thigh, squeezing hard enough to make me whimper, lips parting . He pressed his tongue in then , licking into my mouth and I brought my hands up, instinctively wrapping around the bare skin of his shoulders and my body thrummed at the feeling of his muscles under my fingers.

Curiosity made me foolish, and I found myself tracing the hills and valleys of his skin, fascinated by the way the muscles flexed, every time he moved his arm.

“You like that? I worked hard on those…” He chuckled, watching me curl my fingers around his biceps. He was so… big. I moved my fingers up to the hardness of his chest, splaying my palm on his pecs and my fingers caught a hard little scar, almost perfectly round and deep.

“What is this…” I asked , curious my finger dipping into the healed skin and he hummed.

“Your father . He shot me when I was chasing his car down in Jeju Do. Foolish bastard. Thought he could outrun me.” He laughed .

I glanced at him, catching his eyes and the ebbing laughter , my heart twisting.

“Then why am I here? You hate my father. You killed my entire family. So why am I here, Jungkook?”  I asked foolishly, my heart breaking a bit and he hesitated.

“Because you’re mine.” He said simply.

I closed my eyes in despair.

“If this was our wedding night…. What would you say…?” He asked suddenly.

I stared at him, confused.

“What?”

“If we got married back then… When you were eighteen. And it was our first night together….. what would you say?”

I sighed.

“I’d ask you to ….to be gentle.” I whispered.

He nodded.

“Tell me , then.”

I stared at him, feeling helpless.

“Go on, Elena.” He said again.

“Jungkook…” I began but he shook his head.

“Ggukkie.” He said softly. “ Call me GGukkie… That’s what you used to call me …when we were young.”

I clenched my fists, on his chest, resisting the urge to push him off. That wouldn’t end well for me.

“GGukkie…” I whispered, finally, glancing up at him, licking my lips and parting them gently, eyes as wide as they could go, “ you know its my first time right?”

Jungkook’s eyes fairly danced at that and he hummed, leaning closer.

“Is it, baby?” He asked, reaching up to brush my hair away, fingers gentle on my face.

Get into it. Get into it and get it over with.

“You know it is…” I pouted, “ No one else can touch me. I’m yours , aren’t I GGukkie…”

He laughed, rubbing his nose against mine.

“That you are, kitten.”

Kitten? That’s a new one.

Shut up and stay in character , fuck.

I was so fucking screwed.

“ So… will you be gentle?” I whispered , “ I don’t want it to hurt.”

Jungkook wrapped his arms around me rolling over and taking me with him till I was lying flat on top of him.

“Then how about this angel? You can ride me…. As slow and gentle as you like. Make yourself feel good on my cock, yeah….?”

I stared at him.

I’m gonna fuck you and you’re going to do all the work.

He’d played me like a fiddle.

“Well baby? Go on…. Take my pants off.”

I exhaled angrily, before moving down, to tug on his pants. He helped me take them off kicking off his boxer briefs as well.

That’s a beautiful dick. Objectively. Very pretty.

Shut the fuck up.

“ Get it wet for me baby….” He said softly. I glanced down at the hard length of it, jutting out of the small thatch of hair and felt my mouth go dry . Which would be counterproductive if I wanted to get it wet. So I swirled my tongue around my mouth, trying to get my mouth moist, before leaning down and carefully wrapping my lips around the head.

Fuck, he tastes good.

I shook my head a bit to clear the voice in my head, glancing up at him with my lips stretched around the soft pink head and he was looking right back at me, eyes heavy and dark .

“Go on baby, take more of it in, use your tongue…make me feel good.”

I closed my eyes, letting the spit coat the hard length of his cock, sinking down till the tip began to inch down my throat. I sucked lightly, running my tongues back and forth on whatever skin I could touch and it was like sucking a lollipop except the lollipop was thick enough to stretch my mouth wide and hit the back of my throat.

I felt his hand reach into my hair, gripping hard and I whimpered.

“Be gentle…” I whispered, pulling off and his eyebrows shot up , clearly in surprise . He stared at me for a second, as though considering my request and then his fingers loosened , threading through the strands soothingly.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He whispered . I went back to sucking him off, somehow my natural tendency to work hard making me bob up and down, using my tongue and taking him as deep as I could. I felt a sick sort of satisfaction when he moaned in pleasure and for some damn reason I wanted to draw more sounds out of him.

This is a dream. Either that or you tripped over a pothole and fell into another dimension.

“ Are you wet ? Come here, so I can check….” Jungkook said softly and I pulled off moving up to straddle his hips. I flinched when he reached down, tracing my slit with carefully fingers before slipping in two. I tightened against the intrusion, still sore on the inside and he pulled his fingers out, bringing them up to my mouth.

“Suck…and get them nice and wet if you don’t want it to hurt.” He said quietly and I wrapped my lips around his fingers, letting my spit coat the slender digits.

When he pushed them back into me, the slide was easier , wetter and I gripped his shoulders, trying to relax around him. It felt foreign but also good… I felt good…

I stared down at him, the broad muscled body and the handsome face and for a crazy moment I imagine what it would have been, if I had married him. Would it have been this….this… weird pleasure that was somehow both painful and exhilarating at the same time. I bit my lips as he curled his fingers inside me, rubbing at some spot high up inside me that sent heat shooting straight up my spine, slick dripping out of me and onto the hard planes of his stomach like honey from a comb.

“Now sit on my cock.” He said quietly. I trembled, reaching down to lightly grip his cock, moving till the head lined up right against my slit or where I thought my slit was. Biting my lips, I lowered my body, feeling my body cleave to let him in, his cock pressing in and in and in.

My knees gave out and I slid down the length of him, the sudden, incredible fullness knocking the breath right out of me.

“ Fuck…baby….you alright?” He whispered and it messed with my head, the way he actually looked concerned and worried and I couldn’t take anymore of it.

“Please… Please… I just… I want to go home…” I whimpered, feeling full and stretched out, my thighs trembling and my insides wet and warm and somehow stuck between wanting more and wanting it to end.

Jungkook grunted, fingers curling over both my hips and lifting me lightly and with ease.

“Come on baby…. Ride me….” He whispered, “ Put your hands on my chest and roll your hips, up and down .”

I did as he said, one hand braced against his chest, the other gripping his shoulder as I tried to move on him but it was hopeless. I had no energy or inclination to do this and the pleasure was fast ebbing into frustration. Jungkook seemed to sense it because he growled.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking bad at this… Fine… Just lay there and let me use that stupid cunt of yours.” He snapped,  gripping my waist and folding his knees just enough to brace his feet on the bed. I gasped as I got lifted a bit , his cock slipping in impossibly deeper , the tip nudging close to my cervix , the lightest brush of it send sharp jolts of electric pain pleasure up my spine.

“Oh fuck,..” I breathed as he pistoned into me, hips hitting my ass with brutal force as he fucked up into me and I could only tremble, eyes fluttering shut, fingers going numb from how hard I was gripping him.

“You’re gonna cum today… I’m gonna make you cum on my cock…” He growled, reaching down and pressing his thumb against my clit, rubbing softly, slow circles that were almost gentle compared to the brutal pounding oh his hips and I felt my mouth go slack, wetness slipping out of my tongue and dripping down my chin because of how excruciatingly good it felt, having him so deep, pressing in against the edge of my womb and I and to press my palm, right up against my belly , stunned because of how my body seemed to open and shift to make room for him.

“I’m gonna cum inside you, right inside your womb, fuck…. Gonna carry my babies for me, right sweetheart? Gonna watch you get round and full with my seed , watch you drip milk all over me with those beautiful tits….fuck…”

The shock of his words sent me over the edge, my body clenching down on him as I came, my orgasm so strong that I felt like I was cramping up on the inside and I toppled forward onto him, landing on his chest and bouncing a bit. Jungkook grunted a little, wrapping both his arms around me, holding close as he fucked me right through the aftershocks, body stilling only when I stopped shuddering and I felt warm wetness spill inside me, so deep that I knew I would have to swallow three morning after pills after this, although I was on birth control.

Because one could never be too sure with these things.

Jungkook stayed still under me and it took me a few seconds to catch my breath. I finally levered myself off of him, legs shaking as I rolled over and onto the bed before breathing in huge lungfuls of air.

“Can I go?” I choked out.

Jungkook grunted. “ Get the fuck out of here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I stumbled out of the cab, exhausted and out of my mind with self loathing, I didn’t expect to see Hoseok sitting on the pavement outside the bakery, leaning against a streetlight, face warm but determined.

“Hobi?” I asked stunned. “ What are you-“

He cut me off with a kiss.

I stared wide eyed as he pulled me into an embrace, wrapping me in warmth and scent of his cologne, his hands impossibly gentle around me as he all but cradled me against his body, his lips moving gently against mine.

“Elena…” He breathed against my lips, eyes glinting . “ I love you. I’ve been in love with you for years. I’m so fucking sorry for being such a coward but you deserve to know… you deserve to know how I feel about you.”

I stared at him in disbelief, my heart pounding as I punched his chest in desperation.

“No… No fuck you… what are you doing…. He’ll kill you…” I hissed and he tightened his arms around me.

“I don’t care.” He hissed. “ I don’t… I can’t just… I can’t let him hurt you like this. I won’t. I’m going to tell him. I’m going to tell him to let you go or lose our friendship.” He said angrily and I trembled.  

My heart raced because Hoseok was the only one I’d ever loved. In every way a girl could love a boy. He was and had always been this confusing breed of brother and friend while everyone had drooled after Jeon Jungkook , I’d always been drawn to him…drawn to his quiet strength and to the way he had always treated me as an equal…

But… but Jungkook…. Jungkook who would put a bullet in his brain without a thought if he thought that Hoseok was trying to move in on something that belonged to him…..

“Hoseok…just… Don’t. I… I love you too…” I breathed out, tired and scared and so fucking worried because what if someone was listening even now..what if word got to Jungkook and he tried to hurt ….i couldn’t even think it.

“Come find me when Jungkook is busy . When he can’t find us…” I said softly, reaching out and pressing my palm against his face.

“I’m not scared of him.” Hoseok growled  and it was ridiculous.  

“But I’m scared of losing you. “ I said quickly. “ We can’t… He can’t know. Ever.”

Hoseok nodded before pulling me close again.

“Was he too rough?” He whispered and I blinked, flushing. I shook my head.

“No.. I. No. I think…”

“I hate that he was the one to touch you, first. You.. You deserve to know how good it can be…. How gentle.. I want to… fuck…” He shook his head pulling away and I wrapped my arms around myself.

“We can’t…” I said quietly. “ you know we can’t.”

He glanced at me, eyes blazing and lips parted and I groaned.

“Don’t look at me like that Hobi…” I whispered, shaking my head.

“Tomorrow. He’s going to Jeju Do , to inspect a new resort. He won’t be back till the day after. Call in sick at work.” He said quietly and I bit my lips, feeling a bit like a whole idiot.

I nodded.

He reached forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

No self preservation skills at all, I thought miserably.  

If Jungkook found out…….

Author’s Note : I’ll add the taglist here tomorrow

[bi-demon-ium]

ok this is gonna HURT but whump prompt #101: truth serum for mr. nicholas benedict. go wild

101: Truth Serum/Honesty + Mr. Benedict

(Ao3.)

don’t ask me for context because i have none. i am going more by the spirit of the prompt—being compelled to tell the truth—then the letter. also i imagine this is some sort of fantasy au, or they’ve pursued curtain to some magic booby trapped tomb or some shit he’s trying to raid, but like. don’t ask me why or how. this is so contrived my god

anyway this starts as crack then descends into angst somehow. i actually kind of hate how it turned out bc it feels forced but what can you do???? sobbing.

.

“A secret,” Number Two echoed. “Four secrets, never spoken, freely given, and the door opens.”

“The door back and forwards,” notes Milligan, calm as ever despite the deadly sort of quiet in his voice.

“And,” Nicholas said, “We have about, oh, ten minutes? Until the traps in the walls start activating?”

“So one each,” says Rhonda, a little brightly. “Who wants to go first?”

They all looked at each other, a little uneasily.

“My name is Pencila,” Number Two blurted out. There was reluctance on her face, but she kept going. “Legally, anyway. Don’t like it much. Never tell anyone.”

“We would never,” said Rhonda seriously, although her eyes sparkled with a little amusement. “What’s your full name?”

“Pencila Benedict,” Nicholas said, hiding a small smile.

“Holy shit,” said Rhonda. “Are you two mar—”

“NO,” almost-shouted Number Two, at the same time that Nicholas gave a far milder denial.

“I feel like I should be insulted,” said Nicholas with a little laugh, “But I understand.”

“I’m adopted,” said Number Two primly. “Ew.”

Rhonda looked back and forth between them, two people who were quite close in age and maturity. “I…”

She shook her head, and evidently decided not to question this further.

“The door,” Milligan said quietly.

They looked to it—none of the four emblems had lit up.

After a moment, Rhonda snapped her fingers. “Never spoken,” she said. “But you’d already told Mr. Benedict, eh? It didn’t count.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” said Number Two.

Rhonda gave her a sympathetic pat. “Sorry,” she said.

“Ugh, fine,” Number Two said. “I’ll just go again.”

Nicholas would be ashamed of how he practically wilted with relief, but he honestly was just glad to have the time to gather himself a little.

“Okay,” she said, a little reluctantly. “So I may or may not have forged my GED. By myself. After dropping out of high school. And not going to college.”

She shifted a little, back too-straight. Theirs was a house of learning, all of them quite invested in knowledge and books, and while she knew they weren’t the judgmental sort, it was certainly… unexpected.

Nicholas blinked. “Huh,” he said. “You always were good at forgeries.”

Number Two’s brows furrowed. “That’s it?” she said.

Milligan shrugged.

“I think it’s impressive,” said Rhonda.

“Me being a high-school dropout?”

“Please, Number Two,” Rhonda said. “You’re one of the most intelligent people I know. You don’t need a diploma for that.”

“High school is a scam,” said Milligan sagely, as if he had any idea whether he had a diploma or not.

“And,” Nicholas added, “Figuring out how to forge your GED that young—all by yourself! I wasn’t doing successful forgeries until college, and I had help.”

They all looked over at him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” decided Rhonda. And then, a little nervously, “Who’s going next?”

She was still trying to think of something, presumably. Or not think of something specific.  

“Hm,” said Milligan. He glanced at Nicholas. They had been close for many years now, and could often hold entire conversations without words.

This hm, combined with a delicate eyebrow raise, translated to something along the lines of Having few memories, I can only think of one thing, and I think you already know what it is. That good with you?

Nicholas sighed, but nodded, prepared for the chaos this would bring.

Milligan nodded back, then turned to the larger group.

“Mr. Benedict and I slept together once,” he announced.

If Number Two had been conveniently drinking anything at that moment, she would have done quite the impressive spit take.

Rhonda, too, choked a bit, clapping a hand over her mouth partially to hold in the loud laugh at Number Two’s entertaining expression.

“You what?!”

“I can’t believe Milligan’s your stepdad,” chortled Rhonda, and Number Two whipped around to look at her.

“Rhonda-I-swear-to-god-I’ll-strangle-you,” she said, eyes wide and hair wild.

(Nicholas wanted to enjoy the moment, Rhonda laughing and Number Two trying to hide how a smile tugged at her lips, too, Milligan watching with quiet amusement—but his heart gave a sharp pang. It wasn’t like that, he reminded himself, it had been once, and a long time ago.)

And then. She looked around at the door—one emblem glowed with a soft, steady light.

“Hey, what the fuck!” she said. “Mr. Benedict obviously knew about that!”

Milligan held up a finger, only the sparkle in his eye betraying his amusement. “But I didn’t tell him.”

“I was there,” added Nicholas helpfully.

Number Two crossed her arms. “This is bullshit.”

“Can’t say I disagree,” said Nicholas. “Whose turn now?”

Number Two, he, and Rhonda all exchanged a nervous sort of look. Milligan looked distinctly unbothered.

Rhonda squirmed uncomfortably. “I can’t think of anything,” she said, and Nicholas had a niggling feeling she was lying, but didn’t want to push.

Nicholas looked down at his hands, wondering if he was ready.

He took a deep, shaky breath, the remaining amusement at their hijinks draining away. He was generally an open sort of person, and could only think of two secrets he had: each were closely held, and very painful, but only one involved someone else in the room.

“Alright,” he said quietly.

As if sensing the shift in mood, the others fell silent.

“I’ve… I’ve never told anyone this before,” Nicholas said.

“I would hope so,” Number Two muttered, and Rhonda elbowed her.

“It’s just—it’s really quite painful,” he said, with a forced little laugh, more sad than containing any real light-heartedness.

There was a breath of silence. No one said anything.

And then, finally…

“I… I have a brother.”

Nicholas didn’t look up at any of them, although he heard twin sharp inhales of breath, and fidgeted with his sleeve.

“A twin,” he said, voice breaking a little, and he knew if he didn’t go on now he’d never say it at all. “We were at the orphanage together, but I got adopted and he didn’t, and it was my fault, and I haven’t seen him since.”

The words all came out in a rush, and then crashed against a wall and left him silent again, unable to say anything more.

“Fuck,” Rhonda said into the silence.

It was so unexpected it startled a laugh out of him, even as he buried his face in his hands. It wasn’t enough to fall asleep, although he wavered.

After a moment, he drew his face from shaking hands, having forced his expression into something relatively light again, although he couldn’t hide the tears he’d blinked back.

“I—I apologize,” he said, and again, that light, humorless laugh. “I’m afraid I don’t have many secrets, so…”

“The ones you do have are a doozy,” Number Two said.

“Yes,” Nicholas said. He looked down at his hands, now resting in his lap. “A doozy.”

Number Two looked like she wanted to explode a little—you have a BROTHER and you didn’t TELL me?—but she didn’t say anything, partially due to how visibly upset he looked, and partially due to Rhonda once again elbowing her sharply.

Milligan put a hand on his shoulder, silent, but somehow infinitely reassuring.

And then Number Two turned to Rhonda.

“Well,” she said. “The good news, we only have a few minutes left, so you can be quick. The bad news, we only have a few minutes left, so you must be quick.”

Rhonda’s eyes widened. “I… don’t have any secrets,” she said.

“You must have something,” Number Two said. “Some weird childhood thing, anything?!”

“Don’t look at me,” said Milligan. “I don’t remember my childhood.”

“I don’t have anything else, either!” said Number Two.

“Can you—can you truly not think of anything?” Nicholas said, turning to Rhonda anxiously.

Her eyes were wide, and her panicked expression betrayed she had, in fact, thought of something. Something she desperately didn’t want to share.

“I can’t,” she said.

“We’re running out of time,” said Milligan, low and urgent.

“I…” Rhonda said, looking between them. “I’m…”

Later, Nicholas would idly think that really, it should have felt like time stopped. Like he considered all the options in slow motion, the metaphorical counter ticking down, everyone in silent chaos as he made his decision.

Rhonda had something she desperately didn’t want to share; that she wasn’t ready to speak aloud. She couldn’t think of anything else. They were running out of time.

If he didn’t say anything, well: he knew Rhonda. She would say it, whatever it was, even if it hurt her. Even if it was humiliating or private or something she wasn’t ready to talk about. She’d say it at the last second, but she’d say it, because that’s the kind of person she was.

Of course, no one here would judge her, no matter what it was, and should she wish never to speak of it again, he had no doubt they would oblige. He certainly would.

But here was the thing: Nicholas had another secret, too. And it was humiliating and private and something he certainly wasn’t ready to speak of, but as they would for Rhonda, surely they would hold silence for him, too?

Even so, if he could spare her this, he would. Even at the cost of facing a great fear of his. Even at the cost of his own secrets.

All of this should have been a narratively-appropriate slow-motion sequence, where the world went quiet and all the thoughts raced through his head at once.

…Truth be told, though, that didn’t happen at all. He just blurted it out.

Rhonda began to open her mouth, looking like she might cry, and Nicholas, who had at some point clapped his hands over his mouth while thinking, yanked them away.

“I’m in love with someone,” he blurted out.

They all whirled to stare at him. Rhonda was frozen, mouth still open.

“The light’s not going!” hissed Number Two, glancing back at it. “Who?!”

“You don’t have to do this,” Rhonda tried, “I—I’ll just—I’m—I think I m—”

“Milligan,” said Nicholas, a little louder than strictly necessary. The light came up and the door began to slide open slowly, stone scraping against stone.

Number Two stared at him with open shock, and he looked down, avoiding looking at the expressions of the others. Of Milligan.

“We should go,” he said quickly, standing.

“M—Nicholas,” he heard Milligan say, quietly, and he walked as quickly as he could to the doorway ahead.

“We should go,” he repeated, tightly, and walked through.

.

for the record it is NOT unrequited. but he doesn't know that

[jimlingss]

Dynasty

➜ Words: 17.4k

➜ Genres: 50% Angst, 35% Smut, 15% Fluff, Historical!AU

➜ Summary: It’s no secret that the Emperor is infertile. But even so, a girl is selected every three months and brought to become his concubine in hopes of conceiving the next heir. This time, it’s you. And in order to prevent execution, Jeon Jungkook might just aid you in conception.

➜ Notes: Inspired by the movie the Treacherous (2015)

➜ Warnings: Brief depictions of reluctant sexual intercourse, dubious consent, emphasis on impregnation, sloppy seconds, creampies, pregnancy. Reader discretion is advised.

“Absolutely not!” 

You stand at once, chair knocked back to the ground in a clatter, unable to believe what you were hearing. Perhaps it was a mistake. Perhaps your ears hear wrongly. But by the way your older brother’s brows are drawn together, marring his usually good-natured features, you know you’re not mistaken.    He had worn the same expression as the day of your parents' massacre.   Your voice is shrill as you protest and cry, “I won’t! I can’t! T-This— this is ridiculous! How could you even….how could you even….”   You are Seokjin’s younger sister — his blood, flesh, bones. Family. And you were about to be traded in like you were no one to him. A chess piece. A part of his bigger plan that you wanted nothing to do with.   Jungkook looks at you with an impassive expression, one you cannot read, but you pay him no mind. Seokjin, however, looks to him and nods his head. They are silent in their communication, and then Jungkook takes his leave until there it is only your shadow and Seokjin’s that flickers against the wall with every movement of the dim candlelight.   He begins with a soft voice. A soothing one as if you were a child.    “There’s no choice, Y/N.”   “There is always choice,” you emphasize as tears start to stream down your cheeks. “Do you really want to send me off to that...that disgusting monster? Do you really want me to be used? If you care about me as a younger sister, if you care about me at all, you wouldn’t be doing this.”   His dark eyes meet yours. “The decision has been made, Y/N. You have been chosen. But this is the way we can make our parents happy. This is the only way for them to reach peace.”   You sob, collapsing onto the ground. Seokjin does little to comfort you. He knows there’s nothing he can do after this betrayal.   You hold your face in your hands, catching the tears that rack through your frame. It is silent except for the noises of your wails muffled through your sleeves.    After minutes of devastation and grief that stutters out of you, your hands drop to look at him. And your voice swoops into a murmur, one that is private, kept between the two of you. You beg for his honesty from sibling to sibling, without duties or titles. “Is...is t-there no other way?”   Your brother deflates, refusing to look at you. You notice the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, how he swallows hard to answer. “There must always be sacrifices made in times of a revolution and this is ours.”   “No.” You shake your head. “This is mine.”

There is a knock at your door.   “Go away, Seokjin,” you shout at him without regard for sibling hierarchy. In your anger, he has long lost the respect that goes along with the status of being your older brother. “I said I wasn’t hungry!”   But in spite of your bitterness, the door opens anyhow.   It’s Jungkook who has appeared in place of Seokjin, doe eyes and dark hair tied into a high ponytail by a black ribbon that matches his robbed attire and the scabbard by his side.   “I saw the light in your room,” he says simply.   You lift your eyes away from the book you were copying, the last task that you wanted to finish, and your gaze remains cold on the man.    You detest Jungkook.    He is Seokjin’s friend, not yours and not a childhood one. Your brother had met him shortly after arriving in this town years ago. But you do not know him well. You resent him merely because he represents every manner that Seokjin has changed in the ways you hate most.   Before they met, Seokjin was still the brother you knew. Kind-hearted. Mischievous. Protective. There was no rebellion group, talk of treason, risk of harm. The Seokjin you knew would’ve never thrown you away like this.   “Are you ready for tomorrow’s journey,” he asks.   “There’s no reason not to be.” Jungkook is quiet and conniving. You know the only reason he has come out of his way to check on your well-being in the middle of the night is for his assumption that you are a flight risk. You suppose it might be natural to have those suspicions. Any girl in your position would run. But you quickly dissipate his worries if it means he’ll leave. “You don’t need to worry that I’m going to run. I wouldn’t do that to Jin.”   He makes no changes in his expression. Always blank. Always emotionless.   “The journey will be long. You should get some rest.”   “I can take care of myself.”   He remains silent for a moment. But you return to your work and when you look up again, he’s gone, having finally left you in your own misery.   //   When the first blush of dawn arrives, you get dressed in your best attire and gather the little belongings you have. They’re already waiting for you in front of the house, not allowing you a moment to yourself to relish in freedom any longer. There is a horse, a carriage, and four members of the group you don’t recognize along with Jungkook to journey with you.   Seokjin waits there too, but you can’t look him in the eye.   He knows you're upset, you can tell. Neither of you say much to each other, but you mutter a half-hearted farewell.   You can hear the way the corner of his mouth gently quirks by the sound of his voice. “I’ll see you soon enough, Y/N.”   You turn away, walking to your carriage where the horse is already neighing and becoming fussy. But then your steps slow. You hesitate getting in and Jungkook stares at you, waiting patiently, never once pushing you on.   At once, you turn around. “Jin!”   You call out to your brother and he turns around before stumbling. A giggle streams out of his chest after you’ve thrown yourself at him in an embrace as if you were still children. He hugs you back, arms around your body, frame overtaking yours, and he squeezes you tight.   You shut your eyes to savour the fleeting moment.   He leans down, murmuring, “I’m sorry.”   But you shake your head, unable to utter a word for fear of crying again.   “We should get a move on before it gets any later,” one of the members calls out and it’s your reminder of where you’re headed.   You pull apart from Seokjin. He smiles tenderly and brushes a stray strand of hair away from your face.   The carriage ride is shaky. Every bump and crack of the dirt road is felt by you ten folds, the wheels wobbling and the horse’s disregard makes it difficult for you to rest easy. But you don’t dare utter a complaint, not when you’re in the company of unfamiliar people. You do, however, pull back the curtain of the square window to look at the land and let in fresh air.   Eventually, there’s a break called. The tiny carriage comes to a halt and Jungkook is the one who brushes open the large curtain. He catches you off guard, peering in with his large eyes that seemingly sparkle naturally.   “We’re going to take a small rest.”   “Okay.”   He helps guide you out and you notice the other people are either on the ground resting their feet or by the stream, taking a drink of water.   “Are you alright?”   You nod. There’s a moment of serene quietness, the birds chirping around the trees, the rustling of leaves. Jungkook drinks from his leather pouch and then hands it to you to quench your thirst.   You sip it, soothing your throat and gather the courage to utter his name— “Jungkook.” He turns to you. “Do you know what’s going to happen to me?”   “You’ll be introduced as one of the minister’s nieces. He’s been aligned with us for years. You’ll be inspected and bathed, and then there will be a ceremony and then….”   “I’ll be bedded,” you complete his sentence for him.   Jungkook remains silent.   The Emperor is infertile. It’s a truth no one dares to utter, but it’s been fifteen years since he began his reign and he has yet to produce a child no matter how many consorts and concubines has entered the palace. The Empress has not bore a child either.   And nine years ago, there was an official decree. Every three months since, a girl is selected and brought in. If she doesn’t get pregnant within the time frame, she is executed for failing to fulfill her duty, for treason.   You are the next one.   The one who has to preoccupy the Emperor to the best of your abilities.   “You don’t need to worry,” Jungkook says, perhaps reading the expression on your face, but you slap his hand away when he reaches out.   “Of course I’ll worry,” you spit at him in animosity. “I’m going to die.”   The man’s brows draw tightly together, his lips lopsided. “It’ll be over before they can get to you.”   You say nothing more, returning to the small carriage before you can start to sob like a child and further be humiliated.   //   Night falls and camp is set up with little hardships. By the afternoon of tomorrow, you would have already arrived at the palace, perhaps straight to the Emperor’s bed. The thought makes you nauseated, wanting to crawl out of your own skin and hide from your body.   You know you’re being selfish. In the bigger picture, your desires don’t matter. If anything, you should be happy to give yourself up for the rebellion. For the common good. But you can’t.    “Are you not going to eat?” one of the female guards asks you with a smile and you lift your eyes away from the blazing fire whose heat has pressed against your cheeks.    You look around to the four members of the group that has been commissioned to protect you, their faces illuminated by the glow of the flames. You wonder what sacrifices they had made to be here, what led them here in the first place.   “I-I can’t.” You stand up and all of their heads, including Jungkook’s, turn to you. “I’m sorry. I….I need a moment to myself.”   You quicken your pace towards the forest, trying to escape their prying gazes, the burden that has been placed upon your shoulders. It’s hard to breathe. It’s as if the smog of the fire has bloomed inside of your lungs, constricting your chest, forming a thick lump in your throat.   The darkness of the forest envelopes you and it’s almost comforting.   That is until there’s a branch snapping behind you, and you quickly spin around.   “I knew you weren’t okay.”   “Go away, Jungkook.”   He remains silent, but you can see the outline of him coming closer towards you. He is not dissuaded no matter how much you have pushed him away from you, no matter how rude you’ve been to him from the start. You’re not sure if he pities you or he—   “Can I comfort you in place of Seokjin?” Jungkook requests in an earnest murmur, humble and cautious. “You wish he was here instead of me, don’t you?”   You’re taken aback, brought to speechlessness.   The two of you end up seated by the creek on a wooden log. The horizon is full of stars, allowing you to see enough to watch the water that rushes past in a calm hum, soothing your turmoil.   “I’m afraid.”   “Of what?”   “I don’t know what to do. How to capture the Emperor’s attention. How to be...bedded.”   “You need to be strong.”   You rise to your feet at once, biting back angrily, “I’ve never even been touched by a man! How am I supposed to be strong?!” It’s easy for him to say. It always is to the outsider.   He doesn’t know what this means to you. You’ll never be able to find a husband after this. The peaceful life you dreamt of will be gone.    You will forever be stained as the Emperor’s previous consort, his whore or you will end up dead.    You’re not sure which is worse.   “How am I supposed to know what to do?” Your voice is shrill, desperate and full of pain as if you are asking Jungkook for an actual answer to your predicament.   Jungkook stands and places his firm hand on your shoulder. “There,” he says after a moment when you’ve calmed down, “you’ve been touched by a man.”   Irritation surges through you again at how lightly he’s taken your strife. “You know that’s not what I meant—”   Then you’re suddenly spun to face him, a strong grip at your waist. Your words become muted through the soft press of Jungkook’s lips. Your whimper is muffled by his mouth. It’s chaste. Careful. He allows you room to breathe, to feel the velvet texture of his lips or to pull away if you so choose to.    But you don’t move. Your eyes become half-lidded, gazing into his doe eyes that seem to be full of stars. Your hands come to grip his broad shoulder, his placed on the dips of your body so gently as if he were afraid to break you. And your heart swells dangerously inside your chest.   After a moment of his mouth moving against yours in a sweet kiss, Jungkook pulls apart.   Almost immediately, you tug him back to you again, not wanting the moment to end. You kiss him fervently and he lowly hums inside his chest, tongue peeking at the seam of your mouth, urging you to grant him access. It’s unsightly, the two of you unmarried and holding one another so intimately in the dark during this time of night. If anyone knew, it would be shameful.    But it’s only you and Jungkook in this small space.   Your lips part, allowing his hot tongue to lick into your mouth. And he angles his head, happily deepening the kiss. It makes you gasp for air, becoming breathless, but he doesn’t relent. Jungkook presses forward eagerly like he can’t help himself anymore. His hands come to feel up your body, the softness of your flesh through your clothing, the curves of your hips, the swell of your breasts. Your arms loop around his neck, back arching into his firm body. You relish in the sound of soft smacking filling the forest, feeling your face heat as his scent surrounds you.   And when you moan his name again in a desperate whine — “J-Jungkook.” — his lips start to trail down your jaw to your neck. He holds you as you lean into him. You pant, chest rising and falling, and you have half a mind to realize that your clothes have loosened.   The man begins to suck a spot at the juncture of your neck by your exposed collarbone, claiming you possessively. Your entire body heats for him, your stomach fluttering. His name befalls your lips again in a whine and this time, it seems to snap him from his trance.   Jungkook pulls away from you.    Enough distance that if your arms stretched, it would barely be able to reach him.   He wipes his sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. “We...we should go back,” he says, winded.   You merely nod, not uttering a single word. The two of you don’t need to speak to know that this can’t be continued further. It wouldn’t be good for either of you.   But you’re still stunned as you follow him back to where the others are. Your eyes trace Jungkook’s backside and you nibble into your swollen lips. The taste of cinnamon lingers.   //   The capital is close — you can tell by the way travelers aren’t as sparse and the rich attire that adorns their body. Their expressions are bright and friendly, innocent from the fear of theft or strangers stealing their food. There are no hollowed eyes and cheeks peering at you blankly, no hands clasped together to silently beg for some grains to satisfy the shriveling stomachs.   By afternoon, the carriage is brought to a halt again.   “I’ll be going ahead first,” Jungkook announces as he sits on top of his horse. “It’ll seem less suspicious.”   The other seem to take little issue, but before Jungkook rides off into the distance, his gaze lingers on you. The two of you stare at one another for a moment, one where you’re not sure if you should bid farewell to him or not, one where you wonder when the next time is going to be.   But before you can utter a single syllable, he turns and whips the reins. The horse gallops off, hooves marked in the dirt. You stare at his backside diminishing before you’re called back into the carriage to carry on.   You arrive no later.   The palace is grander than anything you’ve ever witnessed, stretching across the horizon. The red roof and golden trim are vivid against the town even from the distance. Once the guards at the stone wall are briefly spoken to, the magnificent gates creak open and you’re brought into a different world, one protected from outside life. There are hundreds of servants with downcast heads and folded hands scattering across the vast courtyard, winding pavilion paths bordering each structure. Even from peering out the tiny window, your neck aches with how much you have to crane your neck to see it all.    But you quickly snap out of your awe.   This isn't paradise. It’s your prison.   The gates close behind you, trapping you in its walls and after a minute, the carriage halts the final time.   “Consort Y/N, from the Park family.” Your title is declared and the curtain is roughly pulled back. You brace yourself as you’re guided out and you come face to face with two men, both middle-aged, and two women, the younger one keeping her head down and her hands folded.   Instantly, you lower your eyes with a polite smile and dip down. “It is a pleasure to be here. I am grateful to serve my duty.”    You maintain a soft-spoken voice, barely above a timid whisper. It feels foreign to act this way, but not completely unfamiliar. Even if your title has been stripped away and your family name has been wiped, you still are of aristocratic blood.   “Oh my! I haven’t seen you in so long!” One of the middle-aged men approaches you with half-moon eyes and a plump face. You’ve been spoken to enough that you know the minister’s name is Park Jimin and he’s supposed to be your uncle. “You’ve grown so much!”   “You look as healthy as I remember, uncle.” You offer a brighter smile and he chuckles heartily.   “Do I? I’m glad then. I think I’ve packed on a few pounds since your mother last saw me, but don’t tell her that or she may send me some more medication.”   In the midst of the lighthearted conversation, you realize that you’re being scrutinized by the other man. His hair is as dark as his eyes, gruff around his mouth and chin but his features are sharp. He stands with his chin high, his spine straightened, his arms behind his back. His robes are a deep violet, silks luxurious and commanding attention. You’ve seen him before.   Jung Hoseok. The man who has stood in your family’s courtyard with the same posture as each member was brought out and executed. You had witnessed it from the gaps of the weaved basket that you were hidden in until Seokjin covered your eyes with his small hands. It was fifteen years ago, when you were merely five. But you still remember the iron stench of blood well.    The memory and his boring gaze makes you break into a sweat. It’s as if he’s tearing you apart limb by limb, trying to read your intentions and consider if you’re a threat. Fear drains blood from your face. And perhaps he notices because a moment later, he hums and smirks.   “Let’s not waste all day here.” Hoseok turns away. “Minister Park, there are many matters to attend to. Your greetings can continue later.”   “O-Of course.”   Hoseok glances at the older woman standing beside him and she nods, addressing you, “Come with me.”   “From now on, you are to serve the Emperor. I am going to assume that the Park family has taught you proper etiquette.” The head servant lady continues walking and you struggle to keep up with her and the servant. You don’t glance at the members who took you here as they retreat appropriately. From now on, you’re on your own. “If you step out of line, there is little anyone will be able to do for you. The Empress is difficult to please, but as long as you do what you’re told and say nothing more, then your time will be more pleasant.”   You’re brought into a room with two more female servants and the door is quickly slid shut.    “Strip.”   “P-Pardon me?”   The lady huffs in annoyance and steps forward. Her hands reach out and she begins to tug the ribbons of your clothes. You’re startled, immediately stumbling back out of her grasp. “I-I can do it.”   “You should get used to it,” she says as you shed your outer and inner coat. “There’s no point in being embarrassed anymore.”   Still, your fingers are slow to remove your clothing. After a moment, you’ve rid of your clothes, only keeping your modesty by the last thin white layer that hides your breasts and naked torso from plain view.   It seems to be enough and the woman begins to inspect your skin. She rounds you, examining you from head to toe. Then she holds your arm, lifting them at every angle, making sure there are no wounds or rashes that could infect the Emperor. Her eyes, however, eventually fall to your neck. Right at the spot where you remember Jungkook kissed you hard enough to bruise and your face heats at the memory.    “I was accidentally bitten by a bug yesterday on my way here,” you murmur to explain the subtle lilac stain. “I apologize for being so careless.”   “Nothing that won’t fade then,” she states and you breathe a silent sigh of relief. But then the woman suddenly grabs a hold of your cheeks in one hand. She tilts your head to look up into her eyes and she studies your face carefully. She hums after a moment and lets you go.   You blink at her. “Is there something wrong?”   “You’re one of the prettier ones, that’s all.” The woman speaks softly as if it’s a shame — a shame that you’ve been brought here as the Emperor’s consort and that you couldn’t be wedded properly. You’re unable to dwell on her pity when the other girls take you by the arms and guide you to follow the woman when she walks off. The door slides open into an adjacent bedroom. “You’re going to be washed, cleaned, thoroughly. There’s not much time. You must be prepared for tonight.”   Your feet stop, blood running cold. “Tonight?”   The lady turns around, her gaze more sympathetic than before. “There’s no time to be wasted.”   You’re taken roughly, bathed in milky water with flowers plucked from the royal garden and rigorously scrubbed by two other servant girls until your own skin feels raw. Your nails are trimmed, hair combed before being looped and braided into a half-updo, holding golden hairpins that you would’ve never dreamed of ever having. The robes that are slid on you are soft silks, a light blush pink that matches the peony flowers your mother once had in her own garden. And your lips are pressed with red pigment, eyes lined, cheeks dusted with a rosy shade.   When they’re finished, you don’t recognize the person you see in the mirror.   “The Emperor isn’t difficult to please, but one must know not to step out of line.”   “I understand.”   “All hail Empress Soojin!” There’s a clamour outside and the doors abruptly open. Instantly, the servants, including the head servant woman, sweep back and fold their hands together, bowing their heads. You also look to the ground, dipping down in the presence of the Empress.   “You must be the new girl. Lift your head,” she says and you come to meet cat-eyes narrowed in on you. The Empress is dressed in crimson robes with golden swirls, her dark hair in an updo with pins and luxurious decorations. But she is not worthy of her title from her clothing alone. Her aura is intimidating, her expression unyielding to anyone in the room. She carries herself like she knows she was born of importance, that the mandate of Heaven resides on her shoulders.   Empress Soojin looks at you with a scrutinizing eye that makes you fearful. But then she smiles.   “What’s your name?”   “Park Y/N, Your Majesty.”   “What do your parents do?”   “They are nobles. They have some land in the East. We grow wheat for Your Majesty.” The lies are easy, all part of a narrative that isn’t yours.   Her smiles eases even more. “Do a good job.”   “Yes.”   Empress Soojin is kind — more than what you expected someone in her position to be. You would not know how to feel if you were meeting yet another girl your husband was trying to conceive with. But you’re not foolish enough to be put off guard. You know far better than to fall for her facade.   At the end of the day, she is your enemy. She might poison you or kill you if she so chooses. And you know that your child will also be her child. If you do fall pregnant by some miracle, the baby would be taken away from you and given to her. To grow with her. To call her mother.   But you don’t dwell on these thoughts or let it be known.    Empress Soojin leaves once she’s satisfied with your appearance and a veil is put over you as the sun starts to dip over the horizon. The ceremony is about to begin, the jovial music already playing in the distance and muffled through the walls.    “It’s time.”   You’re led out of the room, lugging your heavy robes with you. But as you look up, your breath hitches in your throat.    Doe eyes stare into yours past the translucent veil.    Jungkook is dressed in navy robes with the royal emblem on it, his hair brought into a ponytail with a sheathed sword by his side. Something lodges into your throat. But you try not to let your eyes linger too long on him. After all, here he isn’t your brother’s friend or the companion on your journey. Jungkook is the Emperor’s guard. You are merely the Emperor’s new consort.   “I’m here to escort you by the Emperor’s orders.”   You don’t speak a word as you walk alongside him. Neither does he.   But when no one’s watching, you steal a glance at Jungkook from the corner of your eye and find that he’s peeking at you too.   The moment is too short.   The throne room is grandiose, golden pillars spiraling upwards to hold the high ceilings. The room is full of ministers sitting by and eating, young girls dancing to the deafening beat of the drums and the melody of the flutes. But even from the distance, you can see the Emperor seated at the throne beside the Empress and Jung Hoseok who stands to his right.    Your hand tightens into a fist until your nails have sunk into your palm.   “All hail Consort Y/N!”   You come to the bottom of the steps where Jungkook leaves you, resuming to the side of the stairs, and you lower yourself on your knees. “It is my honour to serve you, Your Majesty.”   Your expression remains impassive, demure perhaps. But inside you, the rage ignites.   Emperor Minseok who stood by and did nothing as the Kim Family, your family, was massacred. Left behind two children on accident to fend for themselves. Left the nation to soil as he was kept inside ravishing young girls and indulging in pleasures.    He isn’t an Emperor. He does not have the Mandate of Heaven.    He is a puppet.   Emperor Minseok’s eyes light. He scrambles upwards and pushes Empress Soojin aside, making her wince. But he still moves past her to sprint down the stairs and comes to you like a child getting a new toy.   Instantaneously, your veil is thrown off.   The child-like man gasps in excitement. “You’re pretty!”   Hoseok, the person you know well as the mastermind orchestrating the entire court and country, the king’s personal advisor, approaches with a smile. “I am glad you are satisfied with the new girl, Your Majesty. But you must show restraint.”   The Emperor enthusiastically nods, but still takes your hand. He pulls you up the stairs and leads you to sit on the other side of him, something the Empress is visibly mortified at in spite of staying quiet.    “Continue the celebration,” he announces and the music commences once more with the pleasant laughter of the ministers. Minister Park has a twinkle in his smile and slightly raises his cup towards you before taking a sip. Jungkook, on the other hand, faces forward with a blank expression as if he were a statue. “What’s your name?”   Your eyes tear away from the doe-eyed man. “My name is Y/N. I am Park Minister’s niece, sire.”   There’s no reason to hide your first given name. It’s not like they would know who you and Seokjin are.   The ceremony and dancing continues, held as an excuse to welcome you and give fortune to tonight’s conception. In reality, it’s for those in the court to indulge themselves. The Emperor fawns over you the entire time, asking many questions and trying to get you to eat to which you force yourself to swallow down the food. You’re nauseated, especially with the times he touches you, when he wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his chest, but you retain a shy disposition to not arouse suspicion of your true feelings.   It ends much too soon.   “His Majesty will be here shortly,” the servant informs you as you’re brought into the bedroom and before you can get in another word, the doors shut.   They’re listening — you know they are. Maybe other girls have run before you, tried to flee while they still had the chance. But no matter how strong the urge is, your feet stay rooted into the ground.    The bed is revolting to look at. The golden sheets that seem to reek of a luxury that you have never known and now imprison you. You feel sick, like you might throw up, but you hold it in.   Your eyes shut tight, trying to regain control of your breath, trying to dispel away your worries.   It will be quick. It will be over. It won’t change anything about who you are. You will survive.   This is something you must do.   The doors open with Emperor Minseok drunkenly stumbling inside after grabbing a hold of the door frame. He haphazardly slides it shuts and giggles once his gaze has set upon you. You swallow hard, moving back on instinct. He grins and bumbles forward.   “You’re so pretty, huh?” He strips off his overcoat and you fall to the bed, silently seated and gripping the edge. “C’mon, you can say something. Won’t scare you away, kitty cat.”   Emperor Minseok pushes you back and climbs over you with the carelessness of an eager but intoxicated man. He stinks of alcohol and you hold your breath, looking away. He snickers and then frantically pushes the many layers of your dress up as if he doesn’t want to waste any more time.   Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, but you comply, like a dead fish against the sheets. Your eyes shut tight and you think about what it means to make sacrifices...   The Emperor tugs his drawers down in one swoop and aligns his cock against your folds. His hips at once jut forward without warning and your teeth grit, holding in your pained whimper as he enters into you. It burns, aching to the point where your eyes are stinging. He groans above you, withdraws, thrusts into you once and then he’s coming.   As quick as five seconds.    The Emperor groans, eyes shut tight, and then he collapses on top of you.   It takes a moment, for you to gasp for air, to come back to your senses and then you’re shoving the sweaty man off of your body, freeing yourself of his heavy weight. Emperor Minseok snores, already worn himself out, and you curse at him silently while you pull the layers of your dress down.   It’s tempting.   You want to kill him — and it would be easy to do so. But it would mean your death, Seokjin’s everlasting grief over it and the likelihood that someone else will become Jung Hoseok’s puppet.   So you gather your wits and slide off the bed until you’re seated on the floor.   //   In the middle of the night, there’s a shadow at the doorway and a soft murmur of your name.   You grab a loose silk cover to wrap your body and open the door. The candle has long been blown out but you haven’t slept, stayed on the ground while the Emperor snorts in his slumber. You hadn’t expected to see anyone, not until morning at least, but it’s surprising to see Jungkook.   Although you’re not sure if that surprise is pleasant or not.   “What are you doing here?” you ask in a hushed tone, shutting the door behind you and wrapping your arms around your torso, away from the cold wind that brushes through.   If anyone saw him here, it could ruin everything.    You don’t know why someone like Jungkook would take that risk.   “I know. I just…” The more you allow your eyes to adjust to the darkness, the better you are at being able to discern the furrow of his brows and the way it mars his expression. “How...how was it?”   “How was it?” you spit at him. “What do you think?”   There’s a held silence. Neither of you speak.    But the moment anger surges through you, the upheaval follows.    Against your will, sobs begin to break through your frame. As intense as the day Seokjin delivered the news that you would have to do this. And the memories burst through, catching up to you.   It would have been fine if you were alone.   If you could pretend that it wasn’t bad, that it meant nothing. But the earnestly spoken question from Jungkook has brought forth the truth that you had so desperately tried to push away.   You cry, tears shedding down your face as you hold your face in your hands. You are oblivious to the way Jungkook’s fingers twitch, how his hands reach out, how he hesitates. But then he embraces you, pressing your face against his shoulder, his arms around your waist.   You grab onto him, latching on as if he is the only thing that grounds you to this insanity. You muffle your sobs, trying to keep them quiet before you’re found. You wish this was Seokjin.   But it’s Jungkook.   “I had a younger sister,” he tells you suddenly, calming your hiccups as he cradles you against him. “Her name was Jieun. She was brought in, just like you. Five years ago. She was taken in by force. All because she caught the eye of the Emperor.”   You pull away from him and he wipes a tear off your cheek, holding your face within his hands.   You didn’t know. Frankly, you don’t know anything about Jungkook, but to hear him tell you, for him to openly share is something you don’t take lightly. “W-What happened to her?”   “She was always weak and they mistook her sickness for pregnancy. When they found out she wasn’t, they hung her for supposedly losing the baby.” His whispers are quiet, but they carry a grief that you can barely understand. Jungkook’s eyes connect within yours.    Finally, you begin to understand. Why he started this, why he’s come here.    “I don’t want something like that to happen again. I’ll do everything in my power to keep it from happening to you.”   You nod.   He didn’t need to come see you tonight. But you’re thankful he did.   //   “All hail Empress Soojin!”   The doors open with a parade of servants following the female who holds up her dress, entering through the doorway. You meet her halfway, head dipped and hands folded with a demure smile. Her eyes are narrowed in on you and you pay no mind when her servants begin to inspect the place, examining the bed sheets and any other evidence of last night’s affair.   “Good morning, Your Majesty.”   “How are you?” Her gaze sweeps across your body, lingering on your stomach.   “It was fine.”   The Empress lifts her hand and two more servants enter with a tray of food. They start to arrange the breakfast on the table. “You might be carrying a child, so it will be important to nourish yourself.”   You look at the dishes with a sense of queasiness. The last thing you want is food — you don’t think you could contain it in your stomach if you tried. And there’s a fear in your mind that she’s going to take this opportunity to poison you. You wouldn’t be surprised if she did.   So you dip your head. “If you may pardon me, Your Majesty, I am not feeling hungry.”   “Don’t be foolish.”   “I—”   Your words are choked the moment your head is whipped to the side. Your cheek burns. The Empress’ hand print is embedded into your skin, her arm still raised in the air. Your eyes sting.   Even in your worst moments, you’ve never been slapped. Not by Seokjin. Not even by your parents.   “Her Majesty was kind enough to come here and offer you food but you dare deny her and talk back?” The servant beside her shakes her head in disapproval. “The Park Family has no manners.”   Immediately, you fall to your knees. Your head meets the carpet, right by her feet but she doesn’t see the way your teeth grit. “I apologize for my disrespect.”   Empress Soojin huffs in frustration and there’s a clamour as feet stomp out, making the room silent once more. It’s then that you lift yourself back onto your feet and pour the tonic she gave you into the plant.    You spend the rest of your day in your room after taking a bath, staying out of anyone’s way as you were told to do. But after nightfall, there’s news of Emperor Minseok planning to come see you. So you suppose you must’ve done something right for him to willingly reach out to you.   His body weight is heavy against you, your back molded against the bed.    “You’re very pretty,” he says for the millionth time.   You try to muster a smile, but keep your head tilted to stare at the wall, acting like you are much too shy. “Thank you.”   The Emperor is easily worked up, the very antithesis of control. He enters you and you bare through it, getting used to the action. But Emperor Minseok finishes in a mere three pumps, gripping at your thighs with a groan. He rolls over to sleep and you shove down your skirt.   If you could count the little fortune you have, you’re relieved he’s been too impatient to undress you properly. He’s neither kissed you nor laid a hand to the softest parts of your body.   Not like Jungkook.   //   The palace is unfamiliar. It’s a vast space that stretches across the plane and numerous structures gives room for ministers and servants you will never know the name of. The only person you truly know in these walls is Jungkook. He’s the only person to confide in, but there is little opportunity to see him, even if you long to.   But he comes to you, enough times to make you reassured that he is always there, following in your shadow. Though it’s never enough to fulfill your desires or relieve your yearning.   “What is this?”   You open the envelope he’s passed to you, pulling out the folded parchment. The two of you are hidden in an empty warehouse where supplies and weapons are kept in wooden crates. Grime lays in thick layers, cobwebs collected at the corners, but some specks of dust float in the air, seen by the sunbeams that pierce through the gaps of the planks covering the windows.   Your eyes widen at the familiar writing of the letter and your eyes skim the page to see Seokjin’s signature at the bottom.   The corner of Jungkook’s mouth quirks to see your wide grin.   “H-How did you get it here?”   “We have servants working for us and a communication line coming in and out of the palace. It’s the way we exchange news.”   You nod, reading the letter and the kind words that are so much like Seokjin, encapsulating his personality with every ‘dear sister’. But the sentences are short and the content makes the blood drain from your face. There’s been delays of Seokjin getting into the palace.   They need more time. More than three months.   “There won’t be enough time.” Your hands drop, the letter put at your side. Your eyes lock with Jungkook’s, but he doesn’t seem surprised, as if he already knew. “I’m going to die.”   He doesn’t flinch, expression solemn, unyielding to this devastating news. “I will help you.”    “How?!”   “We’ll give them what they want. You won’t be executed if you’re carrying a child.”   “The Emperor is infertile—!”    But Jungkook isn’t.    And once the implications of his words sinks into you, you turn away to hide from his gaze, your voice shrill. “How could you….how could you even think of that? You’re as cruel as Jin. No one...no one has any regard for me whatsoever. It’s all about the country, the revolution.”   In the midst of your hysteria, he calls you. “Y/N.”   “You want to use me. You want to use my body,” you sob.   “I don’t want you to die,” Jungkook emphasizes and grabs you, spinning you around to look at him again. His hand wraps around your wrist, doe eyes staring into yours. Your breath hitches and it goes silent. “If there’s anything I can do within my control to help you, I will. I don’t want to feel powerless.” Jungkook’s grasp on you tightens, as if he is afraid to let go. “Not anymore.”   You recognize the pain in his eyes. It’s tangible. Earnest.   On instinct, you lean in, pressing your lips against his to console his worries. It’s a soft kiss, one where Jungkook’s nose brushes against yours and his hands lift to cradle your face. You succumb to the itch of having him close to you, giving into your carnal desires and the lust that has lingered in you after the kisses you two shared in the darkness of the forest that one night.   And Jungkook doesn’t hesitate either.    He touches you, fingers gently tugging the ribbons of your attire to slip off the inner coat and many layers they’ve cloaked you in. It’s freeing to be out of the silks. You can finally breathe again, but not for long when Jungkook kisses you until you’re gasping for air and your breath is stained with his.   You grasp at his own clothes, ridding them and his sword clanks to the ground.   His mouth moves from your jaw to the juncture of your neck, traveling down your collarbone and the valley of your breasts. He sucks at your flesh, greedy to mark every inch of it. Even if he doesn’t say it aloud, you can tell through his touches. He doesn’t want to use your body. He wants you.   “Jungkook.” The whine only spurs him on and you hold his head against you, fingers tangling to his hair.   It’s silent, except for the sounds of him kissing against your skin. Heat rises on your face, warming your cheeks. You don’t know how Jungkook can stay so careful and controlled. He never once rushes, giving plenty of opportunities for you to push him away if you so choose to.   But you don’t and he lays you on the soft hay collected in the corner of the warehouse.   You shy away from his attention, your naked body laid in front of him. But then he strips from the rest of his clothes, not letting you be the only one bare. Immediately, Jungkook reaches down to kiss you again, mouth pressed against yours like he has become dependent on your taste.   Jungkook readjusts you, getting you to sit on his lap facing him.   “Is this okay?”   You nod, gripping at his shoulders for leverage. His doe eyes lock into yours.   “Tell me if it hurts.”   “Okay.” Tears fog your vision. You’ve never been treated so gently before, not from a man or woman. While the circumstances are undesirable, bliss still blooms in your chest.    Jungkook licks his thumb and lowers his hand to continue to warm your center. You keen against him with a moan as he plays with your bud, rubbing your clit in circles and watching your expression carefully. Your slick begins to leak to his thighs, but he doesn’t seem to mind.   “J-Jungkook…”   Your eyes are teary, nose reddened from the cold. Jungkook presses his forehead to yours, your breaths laboured together. His cock lays thick in his hand, slit weeping with precum and the two of you look down, watching him align it to your folds.   His hips push up at the same time as you guide yourself down.    Jungkook groans. The pair of you are finally connected.    Strangely enough, it doesn’t hurt. Far from it and the realization makes your cheeks hot to the touch. You’re snug around him, able to feel his head nudging against your cervix.   “A-Are you okay?” he asks and you nod several times fervently.    Instead of answering in words, you close the distance with another searing kiss.    Soft smacking fills the room with his tongue licking into your mouth. Jungkook’s arms wrap around your waist, guiding you up and down your length while he meets you halfway. Your moans are muffled, his chest pressed against yours and you begin to sweat at your hairline.   You break apart.   “Jung—ko...ok.”   “Hmm?” He brushes a strand of hair away from your face.   “Harder,” you whisper so quietly that you can't hear yourself. He blinks at you, not understanding and you throw away your pride, knowing that there’s no reason to be ashamed when you’re with him. “H-Harder, please. I’m not fragile.”   The corner of his mouth quirks into a small smile, “Okay.”   Soon, indecent noises of pounding fills the room. You hug one another, keeping each other grounded with your bodies. Your arms are wrapped around his shoulders, your whines stifled against his warm skin. Jungkook tries to catch his breath, a cold cloud emitting from his parted lips.   It feels good. To have your warm and wet heat filled by Jungkook. To be stretched by him and feel him all the way to your throat. To have him so close to you. The pleasure is overwhelming.   Your slick coats his length, dripping down and making it messy where his thighs hits against your behind. It feels like you’re scratching an itch as you ride him, your cunt being bruised against his force. Pleasure thrums through you, thoughts turned to slush, surrounded in his scent. Your eyes are hazy and you feel feverish. All that befalls from your lips are broken and pitched whines of Jungkook’s name.   It gets sloppy and his strokes start to become short and frenzied in a staccato rhythm.   “J-Jungkook!”   He licks his thumb and rubs against your clit, making you sob out. Then, you come undone. You seize, squeezing around him. Light pierces through your eyelids and your toes curl. Pleasure overwhelms you until you’re spineless. At the same time, Jungkook pants heavily and his hips thrust upwards. A moment later, he’s cumming deep into your sopping cunt. His head is lodged right against the opening of your womb. Thick ropes painting your velvet walls. Hopefully to conceive.   “—Soojin visited the consort the morning after the ceremony.”   “Is that so?”   There are voices from outside and your eyes widen, lips stealing a gasp.   Immediately, Jungkook’s palm raises and cups your mouth. His brows furrow, eyes staying locked into yours and the both of you sit still, staying silent. You turn your heads and through the gaps of the wooden planks covering the window, you can see Hoseok and a minister brushing past.   “She’s never shown favour to any of the consorts.” They stop, right where you and Jungkook are naked, merely separated by a brick wall.   “Perhaps she sees something different from this girl than the others,” Hoseok hums. “Keep an eye on Empress Soojin and tell me if she does anything else out of the ordinary.”   Jungkook’s cum leaks from your center, dripping down his length.   “Yes.”   They finally pass and Jungkook’s hand falls from your mouth, finally taking a sigh of relief. Jungkook removes himself from you but only after he pushes his milky fluid back into you with his brows furrowed in concentration. He tucks his cum past your used fold into your heat.   Once satisfied, he gets up and puts back on his clothes.   You’re still reeling, not sure what to say or if you can even look him in the eye anymore. Part of you feels used. You’ve been passed from one man to the next, always with a purpose, a greater reason that your own desires. But then—   “Are you alright?”   Jungkook is tender, helping you up and brushing a strand of hair away from your face. He helps you get dressed again while you feel his cum drip down your thigh. It’s a reminder of the sins you have just committed together, something worthy of treason.   But it’s something you find yourself not minding doing again.   “I’m fine,” you murmur after you’re dressed again.   Jungkook stares at you silently, his eyes unable to be torn away from you. Then he leans forward as if driven on by sheer instinct. Jungkook’s mouth presses against yours in a sweet kiss. It catches you off guard. And then he parts with downcast eyes. “I’m sorry for doing something unnecessary.”   “It’s okay.” You meet his gaze. “I don’t...mind.”   He nods and you turn before he can see your smile. Your hand press gently against your stomach as hope blossoms through you.

Time passes and maybe the Empress notices that you’ve been smiling more because she asks— “Are you feeling any differences?” — with a careful eye and something akin to anticipation.   “Not yet,” you answer with your head dipped. “But I’m sure it may happen soon.”   The Emperor has been seeing you two times a week. But you’ve been seeing Jungkook every other day.   If the two of you are lucky, one of these days a baby will stick to your womb and neither of you will have to be worried about how doom is impending. You have a feeling though; it’s going to work.   “Empress Soojin has personally ordered a tonic for you,” the head servant says as she enters with a tray and porcelain bowl filled with an amber liquid. “It will increase your fertility.”   Your eyes flicker from her face to the bowl and the servant softens. “Don’t worry. She won’t harm you if there’s a chance you could be carrying her child.”   You trust the woman and you ease your instincts, taking the tonic. And no later are you and Jungkook’s limbs tangled in the old warehouse again, away from prying eyes and ears.   But it’s taking too long.   There isn’t any news of Seokjin’s arrival, no movement from the rebellion group whatsoever and you can tell that Emperor Minseok is losing interest in you.   As you’re passing by the pavilion, you take a brief pause.   The servant behind you also stops, aware that you are watching the way Empress Minseok is drinking and laughing with other women, being served wine as he lies on giggling girls trying to catch his attention. You aren’t jealous, far from it. But you know nothing good will come out of his boredom with you, that it will only speed up your execution date if you are still without child. His favour would prove not only advantageous to you, but to Seokjin and Jungkook.   You’re supposed to preoccupy him after all, keep him distracted.   “All hail Consort Y/N.”   The doors to the Emperor’s chambers open right as the evening sun begins to dip below the horizon. Emperor Minseok is having drinks and some dishes while there are two concubines looped around his arms.   “My beautiful consort!” He calls out to you with a grin, surprise evident on his features.   You muster a smile and dip down. “May I speak to you privately, Your Majesty?”   “Sure, sure.” He bats at the concubines, motioning at them to leave. They bow their heads and scatter out. Once alone, you lift your eyes to lock it into his. “Is there something wrong?”   “I just…” Your smile becomes shy. “...wanted to see you.”   Emperor Minseok bursts out laughing, hearty in his chest and grating to your ears. “You were lonely? Come sit.” He pats at tiny chicken thighs and you hold your breath, complying. You nearly slip off his leg, but his sticky hands are placed on your waist.   His nose digs into your neck and you accidentally flinch.    He notices, brows raising and you swiftly cover up your mistake with a smile. “It’s still...hard for me to have so much attention from you.” You fiddle with your fingers. “I’m not used to it.”   The man grins. “But you still came here.”   “Because I was lonely,” you confirm in a quiet whisper. “The palace is so grand, I don’t really know what to do…”   “It’s magnificent, isn’t it?” he mutters out of the corner of his mouth, clearly not caring about the topic of conversation anymore with the way he stares at you. It’s almost as if he’s entranced by your features and his hand reaches down to slink up your leg.   You abruptly stand and grab his collar, making him rise to his feet too. “The palace is beautiful, especially the gardens. But it’s lonely to go flower viewing by yourself.”   Emperor Minseok cups your cheek. “Then I’ll come with you next time.”   You turn away, out of his grasp. “I could never ask that of Your Majesty. I can’t be selfish and you are always so busy. Actually...I…”   “What is it?”   You duck your head, playing a bashful act. “I try to look at your painting to satisfy my loneliness.”    Emperor Minseok chortles again and you spin around with a tiny pout. You step forward until he’s fallen onto his bed, amused at your boldness. “But it’s hard,” you say as you begin to climb on top of him. “There’s not many paintings of you.”   You position yourself so he’s underneath you. You straddle his hips, a coy smile at your features. “For a grand palace like this, one would think there would be more.”   “You’re right.” The Emperor is breathless, already excited after barely ten seconds. His greedy hands come up to grab your bottom, but you push him off so he doesn’t touch you.   “My father once commissioned a painter,” you murmur as you slowly tug his trousers down. “He was quite immature and eccentric, but his skills are unrivaled with.”   “W-What is his name?” His eyes watch you, pathetically salivating. You wonder if he’s going to cum in his pants already.   “I...think his name was Kang Seokjin,” you lie, quirking your head to the side. You grab his tiny, red cock that looks like it’s about to burst and he groans. “Have you never heard of him? He’s quite infamous in the East.”   “I-I’ve never.”   You hum, tugging your many skirts up and his eyes pin to your exposed skin. “Well, he’s a free-spirit and rarely does paintings, even for people who pay for it. Gold doesn’t buy him. My father had to beg him for weeks and even then he was reluctant.”   He scoffs. “He would never deny the Emperor.”   “Of course.” You align him up to your pink folds. Yet, you linger, putting the crumbling man under you in great suspense. “But…”   Emperor Minseok blinks at you, becoming impatient. “But?”   “You never know till you try, right?”    You drop down like the way Jungkook taught you to. You know better now how to satisfy a man, how to satisfy yourself, what kind of rhythm works best. But it only takes two swivels of your hips and one groan from him until he’s done and finishes. Emperor Minseok has tired himself out and succumbs to the seduction of sleep almost immediately with a smile on his face.    You roll off of him as he starts to snore.   You feel disgusted — skin grimy and crawling, the pit in your stomach growing with queasiness, revolted at what you had to do. But you know bathing and scrubbing your skin until it’s raw won’t be enough to satisfy you. It won’t be enough to cleanse yourself from him. So you leave the Emperor’s chambers as quickly as you came, abandoning the greasy man on the bed and shutting the doors behind you.   In the dark, you hurry as fast as your feet can take you.    You’re out of breath by the time you’ve twisted through the structures and pavilions. But relief comes in the form of a doe-eyed, dark-haired individual. The person you’ve been wanting to run to.   The person you’ve been yearning for.   “What are you doing here?” he scolds sharply, standing as you slide the doors behind you. The candlelight flickers, providing a dim glow on the profile of his face. “What if someone saw you?”   “They didn’t and they won’t.”    The bedroom Jungkook’s stationed in is tiny, a round table and two stools with a large opening for where his bed fits into the wall as if it were built in. But none of it matters to you. You don’t care that he has nothing but a sword and some folded clothes. All you care about is that he’s here.   “And what if you were caught?”   “Every time we do this, we risk getting caught.” You quiet his worries by closing the distance. You cradle his cheeks in your palm and kiss him frantically, sealing your mouth against his.   Jungkook hums to the sweet taste of your lips, licking into your hot mouth, but then he pulls away. “Wait.” His hands secure around your shoulders and he searches your expression after noticing the way your eyes have become teary. “Is there something wrong?”   You shake your head. “I just want you. Is...is that so bad?”   The candle is blown out, flooding the room in a comfortable, intimate darkness. But close up, you can still see Jungkook with the faded moonlight coming through the paper walls.    His back falls against the bed, but Jungkook doesn’t give you a long opportunity to climb and sit above him. He whirls you around until it’s your body that molds against the soft surface of his bed, preferring to take care of you than vice versa. And when he undresses you and sees the sopping mess between your legs, he understands what this is all about.    Why you’re so desperate for his touch.   “Let’s get rid of this,” he murmurs tenderly, not at once hesitating and you nod.    Jungkook kisses you again, deep and earnestly until you’re panting against him and he’s swallowing your exhales. Then his mouth travels downwards, careful this time not to leave a bruising mark against your skin where others could see in spite of longing to mark you. The man’s tongue ends up wrapping around your soft breast, allowing the bud to pebble underneath the warm muscle. You keen into him with a sob, arms wrapped around his neck and he continues mercilessly.   His lips travel down to your stomach and once your skin has gotten warm to the touch, your body writhing against the sheets stained with his scent, he positions you upwards. On his lap. Facing him.   Jungkook brushes away the strands of your hair, tucking it behind your ear and he gently holds your chin, turning your head so your eyes can lock into his. “Look at me,” he pleads in a husky timbre.   You nod and he positions himself at your dripping center, allowing you to drop down when you choose to. And when you do, the two of you groan while keeping your gazes connected.   It feels like he’s filled a void that you didn’t know was there. He’s a snug fit around your velvet heat, stretching just enough that pleasure thrums through you. “J-Jungkook.”   He makes a noise at the back of his throat, understanding what you’re feeling and he leans in for another kiss, his tongue wrapping around yours and drawing more sounds out of you.   The two of you work with each other. Your hips swivel as he pounds upwards into you, pelvises rubbed against one another to clear away Emperor Minseok’s fluids. Jungkook works hard while you squeeze and the cum drips out of you in clumps. It sticks to your thighs and his thick length, drying unpleasantly, but soon it’s only your wetness that comes out from your center.   Jungkook’s hands hold your body, touching you anywhere you guide him to. And you lean onto his sturdy frame, holding onto his built shoulders. Finally, you feel clean. You feel loved.   You kiss him again and his thrusts stutter.   It’s intimate, the sounds of gasping breaths and skin slapping on skin filling the darkness.   Jungkook can tell you’re close and rubs against your clit mercilessly and you cry, quickening your own pace to chase after your pleasure. But before you can finish, he turns your head again.   “Look at me, Y/N,” he says and you nod, teeth sinking into your bottom lip.   You cum while looking into Jungkook’s doe eyes, trying your best to keep them open. And as you squeeze around him, hugging against his cock, he cums. Deep into your heat, right at your cervix. Claiming you as his. Ropes of milky white spurting in then leaking down out of your folds.    All while keeping his tender gaze trained on yours.   You kiss Jungkook again, letting him soften within you, keeping him here just a moment longer.   You love Jungkook. It’s a fact that you don’t want to face in light of the situation — one that you had tried to deny for the sake of your own sanity, but it’s all too true. You love him. And every time he holds you, it feels like you’re making love together. If only things were different, maybe you could’ve had a future together. Maybe you could’ve gotten Seokjin’s blessing and married Jungkook, started a family together and lived a humble life for the rest of your days.   But that desperate and simple wish seems so far out of reach.   Overwhelmed with emotion, you try to keep your tears at bay. Yet, they shed down your cheeks and in the intimate darkness, Jungkook holds you close to him.

It’s one afternoon while you’re walking in the gardens with the poor servant assigned to you following closely behind that you recognize a dark-haired, mischievous individual that you had missed. But you don’t call out to your brother, no matter how much you want to. You keep yourself poised, distant.   “Oh, Consort Y/N. Glad to see you wandering,” the head eunuch, a man you’ve spoken to little, says with a smile.   You keep your head lowered, a tiny smile that is all too genuine on your features. “Empress Soojin said it would be good for my health, so I have followed her instructions.”   “Well yes. Indeed it is.” He grins and then seems to remember the taller, younger man beside him. The head eunuch steps aside and motions towards your older brother. “This is Kang Seokjin. He is a painter from the East that Emperor Minseok has commissioned. Seokjin, this is the Emperor’s most recent consort, Consort Y/N. But I believe you have met before.”   “Only briefly.” You lift your eyes towards your sibling who smiles. “It is nice to see you again.”   “Yes, nice to see you again.” Seokjin’s eyes speak more than his words do and the two of you look at one another for a long moment, exchanging meaningful expressions and taking in the differences that two months have done.   “Well, I must head off now.” You break away the stare, keeping yourself unsuspicious. “It was pleasant to meet your acquaintance again.”   You pass Seokjin, but the two of you look at one another from the corner of your eyes.   He’s finally in the court and a sense of relief fills you. If a few more ministers agree to turn against the Emperor, everything will be complete. It’s Seokjin’s turn to act and now only time will tell.

In the middle of the night when the palace has gone asleep, you sneak from your quarters.   The dirty warehouse has become your sanctuary with Jungkook, a place you’ve grown fond of because it holds your most precious memories. It was this place that you looked forward to the most. That kept you sane. That always promised that your favourite person was waiting inside.    It’s tonight with the full moon out that you get to savour the moment. After the deed has been done, you’re slumped in Jungkook’s arms, naked with just his outer coat around your shoulders.   You take his right hand, uncurling his fingers. Carefully, you trace letters against his warm palm.   “Kim?” Jungkook questions after a moment of concentration.   “Kim means gold,” you murmur and trace more letters against his skin. With your head leaning against his chest, you can hear his soothing heartbeat in your ear. “Seok means great. Jin means precious. Together, it means great gift or big treasure.”   If things were different, you would’ve liked to be a scholar. Transcribing books all day long or writing your own, perhaps creating poetry about nature. As a child, you hated studying and preferred to play like Seokjin did. But it was now that you yearned for those simple times again.   You know Jungkook’s name too and you trace each letter against his palm with your index finger carefully. “Jeon means rice. Jung spindle tree. Kook is country. Together, it means to have a beautiful country.”   “Pillars of the nation,” he clarifies quietly. “Or at least that’s what I think my grandfather intended when he named me.”   “They’re such great names. I hope….the name of our child will be meaningful too,” you hum drowsily while dreaming of the possibilities. “If it’s a boy, Minkook, the country of the people. If it’s a girl, Yujin, meaning full of stars…”    The both of you know you won’t be able to name your child. Not if it’s born within these stone walls. Not when everyone believes it is the Emperor’s. The baby will be taken away from you the moment it’s out, raised while calling the Empress their mother and you would be a nobody.    But then Jungkook dispels away your anguish, even if it’s just for a second. “They’re beautiful names.”   The corner of your lips quirk and you blink sleepily. You tell him about your dream, a memory of the future you have conjured to comfort you, “They would be raised in a quiet home on top of a hill. Where we could see the sunset and sunrise every day. There would be grass where the children could play. A river nearby to wash the clothes too…”   Jungkook’s arms tighten around you and you feel the press of his lips against your temple. “That would be perfect.”   You hum again silently with a smile, falling asleep with Jungkook right beside you. And it’s all you know you can have.   //   Empress Soojin enters your chambers the moment you are doubled over in a copper bowl, the contents of last night’s dinner squeezed painfully from your stomach. The world is on an axis, your head dizzy since you had awoken. But when you realize she’s standing there and taking in your crumpled form, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and try to stand.   “Your Majesty…”    The Empress rushes over to steady you, her eyes wide and full of surprise. “You feel nauseous?” Your expression meets hers, your face drained of all blood. The silence speaks for itself. Empress Soojin immediately whirls around to her parade of servants, anticipation etched on her features. “Call the physician!”   No sooner are you laid in the bed with the physician pressing two fingers on your wrist, quiet as he listens to your heartbeat. The Empress is crowding around, her hands gathered together but still trembling. Then the old man lifts his head with brightened eyes.   “She has been with child for two months now. It’s extraordinarily healthy and strong.”   Empress Soojin stumbles back. Her palm is pressed against her chest, her breath staggering out of her parted lips. And you lift yourself, your hand laid on your stomach that has yet to swell.   It’s your child and Jungkook’s.   “From now on, only consume cold foods and make sure it is properly cut or mashed,” he says as he wobbles to his feet. “Avoid shellfish and pineapple too. I will prescribe a herbal tonic that you can take daily.”   “Thank you.” Empress Soojin is grinning and comes to your side to envelop you in a warm embrace that you aren’t used to. “Are you still feeling unwell? Are you hungry? It is important to nourish yourself for this baby.”    When you shake your head, having no appetite, she nods and looks around. “This place is so rancid and dusty.” The Empress spits several servant’s names and they step forth with bowed heads. “Clean this room immediately! We will go on a walk in the meanwhile and get fresh air.”    There is little you can do to deny the whims of the Empress who’s more alive than you’ve ever seen her before. So while your room is cleaned and redecorated with luxurious sheets and golden vases, you’re guided by her on a walk around the garden.   The news spreads like wildfire, passing from servant to servant to official declarations.   Within a few minutes, Emperor Minseok is bounding over. There’s a grin plastered on his sweaty face, the strands of his hair sticking together. He’s out of breath, still in horseback riding gear like he had gotten off a few seconds ago and you recognize Seokjin behind him in the same attire.   “You’re expecting a child?!” Emperor Minseok exclaims loudly, startling you. He’s jumping and you muster a stiff smile, not sure what you should say. But he doesn’t give you an opportunity to. He immediately reaches out to your stomach with his greasy and soot filled hands. “Is it moving?”   But he never lays a hand on you.   Empress Soojin slaps his hand away and her brows furrow sternly. “The child is at a delicate stage. These are not trivial matters.” She pinches her nose. “And the horses’ stench that you’ve brought here is defeating the purpose of coming out here for fresh air.”   “Of course, of course.” Emperor Minseok smiles, retracting his arm.   Your eyes meet Seokjin’s and the corner of his mouth quirks warmly into a familiar smile. “Congratulations, Your Highness. May your child have great blessings as you do.”   You bow your head, trying to not prolong your gaze and arouse suspicion. “Thank you.”   “But…” Emperor Minseok’s eyes flicker between you and the Empress. “Does this mean I will get another concubine soon since I can’t play with Y/N anymore?”   Immediately, Empress Soojin is distraught. Hurt comes across her features as if she’s been slapped and for once, you sympathize with her. She never answers, merely turning around. “We should get you back inside for some rest. It’s not good to be in the cold wind for too long.”   You nod, glancing at your brother behind your shoulder and after a moment, you follow her.   But as you’re making your way back, your path is intercepted by Jungkook on his way to the courtyard. He’s dressed in black robes that match his long hair tied back, holding a sheathed sword as always. Yet what’s different from before is the tenderness of his eyes.   Jungkook doesn’t need to speak for you to understand. You’ve come to learn all the ways he communicates through silence.   “I heard about the news,” he says and you slow to a complete stop. “Congratulations, Your Highness.”   “Thank you.” You savour the moment, looking at him with a soft smile.    To the Empress who turns around to see the delay, the exchange is simply between a guard and consort without connection. She doesn’t know that the meaningful gaze is shared between a mother and father to be, two secret lovers separated by circumstance.   //   There’s many good wishes and felicitations given to you. Even Minister Park, your supposed uncle, makes an extravagant gesture by personally delivering a basket of fresh fruits and vegetables that makes Empress Soojin command the servants to re-wash. But the person you least expect to receive praise and blessings from is Jung Hoseok. In spite of that, he is here in your room, having shown up suddenly.   It’s a surprise and you struggle to get up from your bed.   “Are you alright?” he asks, concerned. “You don’t really need to stand—”   You muster a smile and manage to sit up. “It’s quite alright. I was always taught that the least I can do is greet a guest properly.”   The thin, middle-aged man rubs the gray scruff on his chin and you can feel his sharp eyes that probe into you. The way he studies you carefully would cause sweat to bead along your forehead if not for how safe you feel. It’s not from Empress’ insinuated promise of protection or that you’re abstained from execution or knowing Jungkook would defend you at any cost either.    Ever since you’ve found out that there was life budding within you, you’ve felt safe.   You’re no longer alone. No matter where you go, you carry someone else with you.   And now there’s never been a stronger reason for you to fight, to be strong and unafraid.   “I heard the physician was called this morning,” Hoseok says.   “It was just morning sickness.”   The man hums, arms shifting to place behind his back. “Well, the Empress made quite an uproar.”   “She often worries about me and the child,” you state plainly and it almost sounds like a threat, one Hoseok visibly acknowledges with a cocked brow. But you don’t dwell, clearing your throat and putting a pleasant expression on your face. “May I ask for what reason you’ve graced me with your presence?”    “I just wanted to visit the future emperor.” Hoseok’s eyes linger on your stomach and his smile becomes wry. “It’s quite a miracle, isn’t it? It’s no secret that there has been….some difficulty for a child to be produced. And for it to last this long too. The physician said it was exceptionally strong.”   Your smile stretches, but mirth never reaches your eyes. “The Mandate of Heaven grants miracles. It must be a divine wish and I am honoured to be the one fulfilling it.”   “Yes.” He nods and then notes, “well, you’ve gotten close to the Emperor’s guard, haven’t you?”   “I have no idea what you mean.”   Hoseok eyes you and it goes silent.   Then, you sit back down with the back of your hand pressed to your forehead. You gasp for breath and bat at yourself. “I’m beginning to feel faint. I think I need to lay down. It would be best if you were to leave, minister. God forbid...something happens to this child otherwise.”   Hoseok scoffs, but turns to exit.   Your fist clench, wrinkling the sheets underneath your hold. You’ll do whatever it takes to protect Jungkook’s child.   //   The fourth month milestone of your pregnancy is eventually reached without many qualms or complications. You’re less nauseous than you were before, but the queasiness has been replaced with hunger that often strikes in the middle of the night. You’re given teas and tonics, tested to make sure there is no poison — something Empress Soojin obsesses over and screams if there’s even a hair in the liquid which you’re still not sure if it’s worth laughing about or being scared of. Your breathing has become laboured too, even after short walks.   But most importantly, you’ve begun to feel strange sensations. Flutters in your stomach that the physician says is the movement of the child and when they happen, you can’t help caressing the bump that’s not so tiny anymore.   While things have been going smoothly, you’ve been put under strict monitoring for a whole month.   You’re protected, out of harm’s way. The only people who visit you are the physician, the head servant, a few other servants, and Empress Soojin who constantly and excessively frets over you — her incubator to her supposed baby. Her kindness and concern is meant for the child, not for you and you’re fully aware. It’s not that it matters to you, but it’s something you keep in mind.   You’ve heard the Emperor has found himself new concubines to preoccupy his time with too. Ever the same as he disregards matters of the nation to have innocent girls and conniving concubines lay underneath him. At least you’re untouchable to him now, out of reach and far away.   But it comes at a price.   You can’t see Seokjin. And you can’t see Jungkook either.   Your only connection to him is the swelling of your stomach, a sizable bulge that you can rest your hands against.   You miss Jungkook — so much that it hurts to think about. And it’s yearning for him constantly that makes you question your ears when you hear his voice whispering your name one night.   But it isn’t your imagination.   “J-Jungkook?”   “Don’t get up,” he says, shadow laid against the paper walls of your room. Your eyes trace against the black outline, lump forming in your throat at how this is the closest you can get to him. “I just wanted to come by and tell you that in three days, it’s happening. The ministers and other government officials have agreed to turn against the Emperor and Jung Hoseok. They’re going to force him to abdicate.”   He did it. Seokjin did it. The realization has tears flooding your vision.   “I’ll come for you,” he promises.   The tall shadow moves away, but you call out to him before he leaves—   “Jungkook.” He stops at the soft enunciation of his name, a beck and call made with emotion. And your heart stutters, knowing that the day your yearning will cease is coming close. “The physician thinks it’s a boy. I do too.”   He lingers.   If you could see him, you’d find an affectionate smile stretching into his cheeks.   Jungkook murmurs, “I hope Minkook will be as handsome as his father and as strong as his mother.”   Tears stream down your face. The corner of your lip lifts as Jungkook’s shadow fades.   //   You count down the hours, the minutes, the seconds. They pass by tediously, but excitement swells in your chest as you consider that in three days time, you will have freedom. A life with Jungkook. Seokjin by your side. Your child in your arms, never to be taken away from you.   It’s all you wished for since you stepped foot into the palace. But perhaps even before then.   You might’ve never loved Jungkook the way you do now or yearned to hold your healthy baby close to you, yet it has always been clear that doing anything and being anywhere would’ve been better than here. Even with the careful treatment you receive, this isn’t what you want.   So you wait. Patiently. For the promised day to arrive.   But it’s the day before the expected overthrow that there’s chaos in the middle of the night.    “Y/N!” You’re shaken away by Empress Soojin. Her sudden appearance shocks you out of your peaceful slumber and you’re left gasping for breath. But she’s frantic, eyes nearly falling out of their sockets. She’s still in her nightgown, hair in a disarray. The woman holds you by your shoulders, making you rise. “There’s something going on. I—I n-need to bring you to safety.”   The Empress guides you upwards, shouldering your weight. Once you’re on your feet again, she grabs a silk overcoat and secures it around your shoulders. “Quickly. There’s no time to waste.”   “Your Majesty.” You try to shake the sleepiness away, wondering if it was all a dream. “What’s going on?”   One of your hands is held in hers while the other rests underneath your swollen stomach, supporting the heaviness of the baby. “There’s a carriage waiting for you.”   There’s yelling from the distance, footsteps on the roof that make your head tilt. But you’re unable to discern what they’re saying, what’s occurring. All you know is that you’re about to be sent away. Without Seokjin — without Jungkook.    “Wait.” You struggle to catch up to her pace, confusion inhibiting your movements. Yet she still pulls you along, past the structures and paths shrouded in darkness. “I can’t leave.”   “It doesn’t matter,” Empress Soojin says, more serious than you’ve ever had the chance of witnessing. “You have to protect the baby at all costs.”   She’s desperate to protect you, to protect your child. She came to you first when she could’ve run on her own and left you asleep. She chose to keep you from harm over her own well-being.   Time and time again, Empress Soojin has made sure you were watched over.   And the realization makes guilt well up your throat.   Your steps slow and your arm tugs her back.   “This baby,” you whisper, “it doesn’t belong to who you think it does.”   But Empress Soojin’s hand tightens on yours and she turns around. Her brows are drawn together, the corners of her mouth tilted in a sorrowful smile. “Don’t you think I know that? But it doesn’t matter,” she spits in the midst of your shock and continues pulling you. “The child is supposed to be mine. It will be mine. It’s the only way I can be a mother.”   Before you can get a single word out, she turns the corner and there are deafening shouts. A clamour of feet stomping against the wooden floorboards, the clinking of heavy armour following grunts— “Stop right there!”   “Stand down!” Her voice is unwavering, strong as she pushes you behind her. “I am your Empress—!”   But they are Hoseok’s guards.    You recognize them from having followed the man around, from standing by during the ceremony and other celebrations you’ve been a spectator to. They have sworn their allegiance to him. Not to Emperor Minseok and most certainly not to Empress Soojin.   But she doesn’t seem to understand she’s been caught, that she’s a mouse cornered by two felines. She is naive and continues to scream at them for their disobedience. You try to tug her away, to get her to run, yet her pride is much too strong and you’re yanked away.    Sideways. The collar of your coat is taken by the bloodied knuckles of the guard. Stumbling. He clicks his tongue in annoyance at the ear-piercing Empress and in an effort to silence the ordeal, his weapon raises against you. His sword is high in the air, prepared to slash and end this nightmare.   Except, his blade never hits you.   Even when you shut your eyes, wrap your arms around your stomach to protect your child, hitch your breath, bracing yourself for the cut…..   “NO!”    Empress Soojin throws herself in front of you, her arms outstretched, allowing herself to take the blow as she is ripped from across her right shoulder to the left hip. She spits blood, warm crimson spewing out and splattering onto your cheeks. The world seems to come to a stop.   Your breathing ceases. The guard’s eyes shake for having hacked the Empress herself.   Yet she does not yield in spite of the wound that drips blood to the floor in droplets with a steady rhythm, that soaks into her white nightgown, marring the clean colour. She lurches forward, grabbing a torch attached to the wall and shouts, “Stay back!”   Her yell is howled out from her throat, jarring to the ears, full of wrath and will. And she throws the torch, allowing searing flames to engulf the corridor.   The guards stagger backwards with widened eyes and after a delayed moment, they retreat with profanities before the smoke can engulf their form.   Empress Soojin collapses.   You drop down to her as sobs wreck through your frame. As calculating and thoughtless as she has been, she has never once been insincere to you. She has never abandoned you. You cradle Soojin’s head into your lap, trying to wipe at her mouth with the sleeve of your silk overcoat. But she bats your arm away. Her hazy eyes remain connected with yours.   “P-protect the child…..prom...ise me…”   You nod, tears staining your cheeks forevermore. But you stand, finding leverage against the wall that was slowly being consumed by the sweltering fire and you run. As fast as your weak knees allow you to.   You leave Soojin behind — laying on the floor — staring up at the ceiling.    She dies before being taken by the fire bleeding through the palace.   You run, unsure of where to go but away from the uproar of people, the bloodshed and clashing of swords, away from the blazing inferno, collapsing ceilings and smog that chases your shadow. And it’s when you begin to lose breath and come to a four-way path that you nearly collide with another body.   A scream tears out of your chest until you find warm, familiar eyes.   “Jin?!”   Your brother’s hands secure around your shoulders and he lowers himself for your gazes to meet. “Are you alright?” His chest rises and falls, steadying his breathing as well and you notice the sword dangling by his side, unsuitable and much too lanky. Seokjin has always suited brushes and books more than weapons — something you wish you had told him sooner.   “I—I’m fine, but Empress Soojin. I...I left her behind and she’s wounded. There’s fire….fire!”   “Y/N,” Seokjin calls you calmly and sternly. “Are you okay?”    You nod and he sighs, pulling away. “Then that’s all that matters.”   “What’s going on, Jin?! I thought the abdication was going to be tomorrow.”   “Some of the ministers changed their minds last minute. They decided they wanted to remain loyalists to the Emperor for fear of their families being punished. The revolt has been moved up.”   “Revolt?! I thought….I thought they were just going to force him to abdicate!” You didn’t know that there would be such violence. That all of this was planned prior. It makes you queasy.   “Sometimes sacrifice is needed,” Seokjin merely states. “But you don’t have to worry. We still have the majority of the ministers’ support. They would’ve still voted in favour of abdicating the Emperor from his throne.”    Your brows are drawn tightly together and you shake your head. “What does that mean?”   “It means we’re going to win.” Your older brother smiles, his eyes crinkling, a sense of elation evidently filling his features. But you wonder what the cost of the rebellion coming to fruition is. “I know you’re not carrying the Emperor's child. It’s Jungkook’s, isn’t it?”   Seokjin searches your expression for any confirmation, but unlike how you thought he would be wary of your relationship with his close friend and the dangers that came along with it, he appears more relieved.   “Jungkook told me,” he explains, “and I told him to come find you. Stay here, alright?”   “What?” You grab a hold of your older brother before he can run off, before he can disappear with your worry for him being abandoned with you yet again. “Where are you going?”   “I’m going to find Hoseok before he can run away. I’m going to give him what he deserves.”   Every syllable is spoken with malice, a sharpness and anticipation flooded between each pause.    But you hang onto Seokjin, refusing to let go. You gaze at your sibling, his eyes and hair that appear darker in this lack of lighting, the downturn of his mouth, his shoulders and frame that seem to have gotten thinner in the months you haven’t seen him. You’ve missed Jin so much.   And at this moment, you don’t care that the fire is spreading through the palace. That there was smoke already spread at the ceiling. Bloodshed and pitched screams not far from where you stand. You turn deaf to those noises, to the crackling of the flames, the uprising’s cry.   “Do you really need to do this? Isn’t this enough already?”   “No. It’s not. I won’t be satisfied until I know that bastard hasn’t run away.”   “Please, Seokjin,” you beg with your entire frame, fingers tightening on his sleeve until your knuckles have turned white. You do all that you can to reach him, begging him, pleading with him as his younger sister. “D-Don’t go. I miss you. We’re….we’re family. I only have you left and I...I don’t want you to go anymore. Stay with me, please. Please, please, that's all I ask.”   You remember. Days under the sun where you would follow him. Days he would take dull sticks and poke you incessantly. Days he would piggyback you and tell you stories he made up off the top of his head. That day the two of you hid in the woven baskets and witnessed the massacre of your family until he covered your eyes with his small hands still dirty from picking flowers.   “Don’t go.”   But Seokjin’s has already made up his mind. All by himself.   You can tell with the way his eyes become saddened, how he merely leans in to plant a kiss at your forehead, how he pulls out of your grasps. Seokjin runs off and you try to chase him as if you were still children playing games in the forest. But just like then, he’s faster than you are.   “Seokjin!”   He runs, disappearing into the darkness.   “Jin!” And you’re left alone. Abandoned. Sobbing heart wrenchingly until your whole being aches. “Kim Seokjin!”   You call out to him to no avail, watching the backside of your only brother fading away.

Seokjin hears you, loud and clear. But he doesn’t turn around.    He twists around the corner, sword slashing anyone who comes in his way. After years of training, it’s no longer difficult to drive his blade into bodies and let their blood splatter on his hands. It’s rather easy when he consumes himself in his hatred and anger.   Seokjin kills any guards still wearing the royal emblem or those who have sworn their allegiance to Jung Hoseok, and any ministers who have decided to stay as loyalists. He spares servants, letting them run past him as they cry, begging for mercy. And he persists, even when he has to lurch forward, the gash of his shoulder dripping of his blood and the nicks on his face sting painfully.   He makes it to the grand throne room. The red carpet is rolled in front of him, golden candle lights providing piercing luminescence but making his own shadow darker. This is the place that once held extravagant celebrations to welcome the Emperor’s consorts that were disposed of months later, that held dancers and musicians for the entertainment of the ministers, that failed to save the nation from poverty and famine.   And now, Seokjin finds Hoseok seated on the throne.    The man is alone. Pouring his last cup of wine to drink.   “Jung Hoseok!” Seokjin’s voice booms across the hall, his steps finding vigor as they close the distance. “You can’t run anymore!”   “I know,” the middle-aged man says after he sips and smacks his lips, savouring the taste of wine. “I know I’ve lost. It must feel good to undermine my position, huh? I should’ve known better than to underestimate you, but those are things of the past. I can’t change them now.”   His calmness exasperates Seokjin to his core.   And Hoseok rises to his feet, brushing his robes behind him. His arms are placed behind his back as he walks down the steps of the throne, finally facing the younger man. But he isn’t surrendering, far from it when he takes the sword from the stand and points it at Jin.   There’s shouting, an ear-splitting clash of metal against the crackle of the flames becoming louder as they seep through the back wall. Hoseok is stiff, age having slowed his movements. He isn’t as agile as Seokjin is, doesn’t have his fervour, but it’s clear to Jin that he’s not going without a fight. That he will never give up out of his own will. Hoseok would rather burn here.   “You killed my family!” Seokjin spits when their blades crash against each other again, the older barely able to deflect.   The corner of Hoseok’s mouth tugs. “I ended many families.”   Seokjin never tells him about the Kim family, about how his father and mother were both executed when knelt on the dirty ground, how his uncles and aunts were brutalized before being murdered, that the servants’ sobs only stopped once their breathing ceases.    Seokjin doesn’t tell, just because he has an inkling, a fear that Hoseok won’t even remember.   So he lets his grief speak for itself— “You will pay for what you’ve done.”   There’s a swing, another clatter. Hoseok stumbles back before lifting his sword again.   There’s a chance. An opportunity. Seokjin could deflect, could move away swiftly without a blink to waste, but his eyes instead pinpoint to Hoseok’s open abdomen. A perfect spot and he seizes the moment.   He drives the sword forward.   Until he can hear the breath in the older man hitch, see the way his pupils tremble. Even when the cost is that Hoseok’s own blade digs into his shoulder and tears it down into his chest.   Blood pours like rain on an April afternoon. It drips in a rhythmic beat, coating the empty throne room until the iron stench overwhelms the smoke of the burning, golden walls.   Seokjin uses the remaining of his strength to step back, pulling the sword out of Hoseok. The blood-soaked blade crashes to the ground at the same time as Hoseok’s own body collapses.   And Jin falls back a moment later. The pool of his blood is warm, the fire enveloping the room sweltering. He stares at the magnificently painted ceiling before shutting his eyes for the final time.    The corners of Seokjin’s mouth tugs upwards into a smile.   We’ve won, Y/N.

At the same time, you stumble.

  The wind knocks out of your lungs as your knees buckle. You’re grabbed by one of Hoseok’s guards, pulled back until your arm feels like it’s being yanked out of its socket. You cry out as agony overwhelms you and the guard wheezes over the exhaust of the fire engulfing the palace and paints the wooden structures into bright scarlet.    “She’s here!” he shouts while you struggle.    But before you can be taken, dragged towards the center of the palace, there’s a low grunt from the guard. A short shout is made and he suddenly drops, revealing your saviour. Doe eyes and dark hair, his hands splattered in carmine and his brows knitted closely together.   “J-Jungkook!”   He embraces you in an instant, arms wrapping around your frame for the first time in ages. His nose digs into your hair, your face into his shoulder as you shake. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here now,” he soothes you in a murmur that you desperately hang on to.   But the intimate moment doesn’t last for long.   Jungkook pulls away. “We have to go. There’s an open entrance in the back by the stables.”   “Wait—wait, Jungkook! Jin. I couldn’t stop him. He—he went to find...he went to find Jung Hoseok and he went towards the fire. I can’t leave him behind. He’s my only brother. Please go look for him, please,” you beg him, hands tightening on his. “I can’t go without him.”   “I know,” Jungkook tells you with lips lopsided. “But I need to make sure you’re safe first. I need to fulfill my promise to him. This is what he wanted, okay?”   You nod, putting your trust in him and quicken your pace. The faster you go, the more time they’ll be for Jungkook to return and search for Jin before it’s too late. But as the two of you interlace your hands, running alongside one another, you’re stopped meters away from the circular opening of the wall.   “Stop!” Emperor Minseok shouts pathetically. He’s obviously shaken, his hair in a disarray, his once magnificent robes dirtied and fluttering open. He is with two other guards wielding weapons, but without his clothes and servants, it is clear that he is undeserving of his title.   He is not an Emperor.   “Y-You can’t leave! That child is mine!” Minseok points to your stomach.   “This isn’t your child!” you shout back at him and the man seemingly pales, eyes horrified as his mouth drops open. “It has never been.”   “You….You!”   There’s a clamour above the roar of the fire consuming the entire palace. The last of his guards were coming from the corridor and your hand squeezes Jungkook’s.   If you die here, then so be it. But you will do so protecting your child until your very last breath.   Yet, Jungkook has other plans and it doesn’t encompass your death.    “Run,” he whispers sharply into your ear and you whirl around to look at him. “I’ll hold them off. Run and don’t look back.”   “But—”   “I love you.” Jungkook smiles. His doe eyes crinkle, shining in the flames bleeding to your feet. “I’ll see you again.”   He pushes you forward and your feet move on instinct. You run with your arms wrapped around your swollen center, breaths stolen from your parted lips and your eyes shut tight. The guards swing their swords around, but their blades never touch you. There’s a clatter of metal, blades striking one another.   Minseok reaches out to seize you, not letting you get away. But his fingertips merely skim the tips of your hair. You hear his grunt, a smothered sound coming from his mouth, the drop of a body.   You run. Out through the entrance. Up the dirt incline until your feet begin to slip. Until the darkness has completely covered your form from sight. Until sheer exhaustion forces you to stop.   Against Jungkook’s will, you turn around.   You watch as the raging fire engulfs the palace, eating away at the structure that stretches across the horizon, as blazing as the sunlight at dawn itself. And you fall to your knees, sobbing for the people you love.

[Epilogue]   The dynasty has fallen.   New people have taken over old places and you wonder if it was all futile — if history will repeat itself once more — if Seokjin’s sacrifice has been made in vain. For his sake, you hope not.   After the rebellion and riots on the streets by the common people, the loyalists of the old empire have been driven away from the country. But you know there’s few of them that are still after you because of your ties to the rebels. There are those on the uprising’s side that are seeking to kill you too. They believe that your child belongs to the deceased Emperor and many would rather be safe than sorry, not wanting to risk his bloodline being in existence at all.   But one look at the babbling baby trying to stand in front of you and his striking doe eyes and dark hair, you know for certain that he is of Jungkook’s blood and bones.   “Minkook, what are you doing?”   You pick up your mischievous, chubby toddler to place on your hip.   His grabby hands take your hair and his mouth circles, trying to sound out syllables and string them together. “M-Mum..mum..mama…”   You smile, nuzzling into him. “Are you hungry?”   Those who believe you, the ones closest to Seokjin, have chosen to protect you from the threats. After the birth, you were brought to a safe house far from the capital where no one knows your name or your child’s. It’s a modest home on top of a green hill, close to the riverbend and where you can see the sunrise and sunset. It’s peaceful and every morning and evening, you’re able to sit on the steps. Waiting.   They told you about Seokjin. You heard that several of them saw his body before the entire palace went up into flames, but there’s been no news of Jungkook. No sighting of him.   It’s been eleven months since that time. Six from when Minkook was born.   You don’t know Jungkook’s whereabouts, don’t know if he can even find you with where you’re hidden now, how he will manage to get himself here. But you believe in his promise. You trust that you will see him again.   “Goodnight, Min.”   Your sleepy toddler is unable to keep his eyes open for any longer and succumbs to the seduction of sleep. You plant a tender kiss on the top of his round head and set down on the bed, still softly humming a lullaby that Seokjin had taught you so long ago — a way you keep his memory alive. Once Minkook is secure and safe, your footsteps pad quietly across the floor.    You come outside, shutting the door behind you, sitting on the wooden steps.   The last light of the sun is fading from the sky. The horizon is painted in murky shades of tangerine and rose, the clouds wispy and floating in shapes that you and your brother once tried to discern as children. Someday, your own children will lay in the grass staring at the sky because of his sacrifice and yours. But for now, you watch the sun fall.    You watch as night takes over the evening, how another day has passed.   But as you turn to head inside as the sky starts to be filled with stars, your breath hitches in your throat.   You blink hard to ensure that it's not a dream. That the illusion has not imprinted into your mind after so much desperation and time. But the sight is all too real when you open your eyes again.   Over the horizon at a distance and in the last dwindling light of the evening, there is a man with doe eyes and dark hair approaching. His gaze meets yours and a tender smile stretches into his cheeks. His features are tired as if he has been traveling for days, clothes ragged and ripped.   But none of it matters.   Jungkook comes closer and closer towards you. And you run, meeting him halfway as tears flood your vision. You leap forward and he laughs, arms catching you in a tight embrace.   The two of you are finally reunited at last.

[peralta-guaranteed]

hc of amy having a bad day and struggling with mac? say he’s very clingy or also upset

Guess what, this accidentally turned into a fic too. And it kinda shifted into 'Jake and Amy having a bad day and struggling with Mac for very different reasons'... I hope you still like it!

(read it on AO3)

It had become evident pretty early on that when Mac got sick, he gravitated towards Amy much more. Sure, Jake was also sometimes good for snotty cuddles and cough-soothing baths, but at some point he would call for his mom, or whine and spread his arms towards her with his legs kicking in frustration, and it said a lot about how much Jake has grown that he didn't even hesitate to hand him over without acting hurt. Maybe the blissful calm washing over Mac's face as soon as Amy was hugging him helped with that, too. It was such a wonderful thing to see after hours of crying, coughing, sneezing, whining and general sad pouting that only a Peralta-baby is capable of, Jake barely had the energy to worry about how it felt to be so blatantly rejected by his little boy.

It'd also become evident that Mac’s clingy phase had started a bit earlier than most of their parenting books prophesied. If Amy was home, he wanted to be on her lap, or in her arms, or wrapping his little arms around her leg as she tried to work in the kitchen. Jake got “NO!”ed and waved away far more often than he was asked for a hug himself, and again, it took a lot of newfound maturity not to let that get to him - and maybe he did not have enough of that yet, because it absolutely got to him in quieter moments.

(He knew it’d pass, like any phase in a toddler’s life passes at some point. Like the phase of Mac refusing anything but that one specific carrot puree passed, or the phase of him being unable to sleep anywhere except cuddled in between them, waking up as soon as they tried to carry him back to his own bed.)

The real trouble starts when both these situations collide.

-*-

Mac woke them up at 4:30 sharp, two hours before Amy’s first alarm, crying so hard it almost sounded like screaming. When Jake tiptoed into the nursery, he had to ignore the frustrated shouts of Nonono and Mamam that he was almost used to by now, to actually check what was wrong. Probably another ear infection, he realised after seeing the symptoms they’d become very familiar with during the last time they’d battled through one of those. They had to bring him to the doctor to be sure, but he already knew they were looking forward to at least two days of unsoothable crying and fussing.

He also knew that things would be hell for Amy.

In theory, it would make far more sense for him to call in sick to take care of Mac. As much as he loved his detective work, the simple fact that his wife outranked him (and thus outdid him in both salary and responsibilities, obviously) meant that if one of them had to take a few days off, it should be him first and foremost. In practice, however, Mac was going to be even more insufferable than just from his sickness if left alone with him at the moment. He was still crying for Amy as Jake lifted him out of the cot - he would be screaming bloody murder if she closed the door of the apartment behind her.

“Earache?” Amy asked already as Jake stepped back into the bedroom, Mac’s wailing lessening only slightly as he stretched his arms out toward her. She pulled him to her as Jake sighed and nodded.

“I think so. I’ll take him to the doc when they open.” He tried to offer, but he knew Amy would refuse it anyway.

“No, I can do it. I’ll call in sick - you get back to sleep for work.”

“I’ll try.” He sighed again as he dropped onto his back while Amy was sitting up to sway Mac, who’d actually quieted down into little sobs and sniffles in her arms. “I’m sorry, Ames.”

“It’s nobody’s fault he’s sick, especially not yours.”

“Yeah, but I wish I could help more. If he wasn’t- you know.”

“I know.” Amy let her free hand not holding Mac drift through Jake’s sleep-messy curls. She knew that, as much as he tried to pretend it wasn’t bothering him, he secretly hated the thought of his son rejecting him in any way, even if it was as nonsensical as a clingy toddler phase.

Luckily it didn’t take long for him to actually fall back asleep with her hand in his hair, and she carefully wiggled out of bed to let him rest while settling down with a still crying Mac in his nursery rocking chair.

-*-

They got to get ready together as they usually did in the morning, at least - even if Amy was only getting dressed to drive to the pediatrician and straight back again. She’d already called Holt and explained the situation before Jake handed her a mug of coffee, and Mac had been, at the least, not crying for the last ten minutes while sitting in his playpen in the living room. Maybe things wouldn’t be as bad as last time.

“I can pick up whatever the doc prescribes on my lunch break.” Jake smiled at her, ruefully, and she considered telling him again that it was okay, that she could do it - but something told her to keep her options of at least a few minutes not alone with a sick toddler open.

She desperately needed that option when lunchtime came around.

Doctor Maurice had quickly confirmed their suspicions and told her that there wasn’t much more they could do than wait it out, keep an eye on his fever and medicate with ibuprofen and warm compresses. Not that any of that had helped. When Mac wasn’t crying, he was screaming, and when he wasn’t screaming, he wanted to be close to her, but he couldn’t lie down without the pain getting worse, so simply plonking down on the couch with him was out of the question. She’d let him breastfeed far more than had been their norm now that he was slowly getting weaned, because it seemed to give him some relief at least, as well as quieting him for a blissful moment. But then the infection had travelled to his stomach as well, the same way it had last time, and he staunchly refused any and all food or milk. She’d seriously started considering foregoing the diapers completely and just letting him play in the empty bathtub so she could rinse him off from time to time, because five dirty diapers in under twenty minutes had to be some sort of new record.

So when Jake texted her he was on his way, with a picture of another box of ibuprofen and that herbal steam-bath mix that had helped last time, she sent a silent thank you prayer to anyone who wanted to listen. And she mumbled a not quite as silent thank you against Jake’s lips before he could even get his shoes off at the door.

“I got you one of the good bagel sandwiches for lunch, too.” He said as he hugged her and combed through her messy hair.

“I love you so much.” She hadn’t even realised that the only thing in her stomach so far was still the cup of coffee he’d made her this morning.

He grinned as he put the deli paper bag on the kitchen counter and went over to Mac’s playpen, to say hello to a currently only softly whining toddler smacking an innocent teddy against a pile of soft fabric blocks. Amy followed to wrap her arms around his waist from behind and rest her head against his back, taking in a few deep breaths of Jake, of something that didn’t smell of diarrhea, moist compresses, milk-hiccups and spit up.

“Also Holt gave me an hour for lunch, so if you want to take a nap or something-”

“God.” Amy groaned with pure happiness as Jake turned around in her embrace. “Marry me, Mr. Perfect.”

“Any place, any time, babe.” He kissed the crown of her head while returning her hug, sniffing her hair with a chuckle. “But maybe a shower first before the big day.”

“Rude.” Amy mumbled with her face pressed against his chest. “I rescind the proposal.”

His chuckle turned into a laugh at that, and he slowly unraveled her arms around him. “Nap first, then shower, how’s that sound? Then a bagel. I’ll give Mac his lunch.”

“Good luck with that.” She sighed before giving him another quick kiss and making a beeline for the bedroom.

-*-

She’d hopped straight from bed into the bathroom later, relishing in the feeling of the hot water washing away any aches left over after that much needed nap. Alas, when she stepped out of the oh-so-peaceful bathroom, she was met with a wall of sound.

Mac was wailing, hard, as Jake swayed him back and forth, holding another warm compress against his little ear, and trying to make soothing noises despite the shrill screams of No and MAMA! straight into his face.

“Shsshhshsh, hey, it’s okay, bud, it’s okay. I know you don’t like me much at the moment, but it’s gonna be okay, and mom is coming back soon-”

He stopped as he noticed her stepping into the room, giving her an apologetic smile as she took Mac from him. The wailing turned into regular crying at least, albeit still loud.

“I’m sorry babe - did he wake you up? He won’t eat either.”

“I set an alarm, actually. So you won’t be back late.” Amy sat down on the couch and pulled up her shirt (freshly changed after the shower, and god had that felt good as well). Mac latched onto her breast almost immediately, and a wonderful quiet settled across the room, only his little snuffling and suckling noises breaking through.

Jake’s face was unreadable before he turned towards the kitchen to plate her bagel, but that stoic, almost empty expression told her enough anyway. She grabbed his wrist as he set the plate down on the couch table, pulled softly until he sat down next to her, running her fingers through his hair again to comfort him.

“You know it’s not true, right?”

“Hm?” Jake looked up at her after watching Mac, who finally seemed to calm down completely in her arm, with a vacant look in his eyes.

“It’s not true that he doesn’t like you. He loves you just as much as me. It’s just a difficult phase.”

“I know that.” Jake’s attempt at a smile was still sad enough, and she wiped across the corner of it with the soft tip of her thumb.

“And I love you too. So much.”

“I know that.” And this new smile seemed to turn out right, at least. “You wanna re-marry me, after all.” He teased as he leant his head against her shoulder, looking down at Mac again with a much less forlorn expression.

“Hey, I rescinded that proposal!” She quipped back, falling into their usual banter easily now that she was rested enough and sure that Jake felt better as well. “But I might consider re-re-proposing again if you promise to pick up Polish for dinner.”

“I knew you only wanted me for all the free food delivery.”

“I also need you for other things.” Amy said as she sat up a bit straighter to finish Mac’s feeding, Jake’s head lifting off of her shoulder with the movement. “Like burping your kid. I really don’t want spit-up down this fresh shirt.”

“Aye aye, Sergeant.” Jake joked, already scrabbling for the burp cloth thrown over the armchair next to them and taking Mac out of her arms.

She watched him as he expertly settled the little, squirming bundle against his chest, the swaying and patting motion almost second nature by now, ducking his head down for a quick sniff of that perfect toddler hair scent. He’d have to leave for the precinct soon enough, and she certainly wasn’t looking forward to the rest of the afternoon probably being a reprise of her entire morning, and she didn’t even want to think about the night or next day to come.

Life with a toddler was unpredictable. Almost nothing was in her control anymore. But, as she’d learned over the years, as long as she was with the right people, she could handle anything. And Jake Peralta proved, again and again, that he was the right person for her.

[siriuslyshewrote]

Can’t Stop DNA - Part Three

A/N - it’s finally here! Part Three/Finale. Hope you guys like it 🥺. (P.S I know the gif isn’t off Peaky Blinders aha). Let me know in the comments!!

Part One | Part Two

It was only a few hours after your conversation with Isaiah that you had rang Ada, practically wailing down the phone about how you had fucked everything up, and how you need your big sister so much right now. Even though she didn't really know the full extent of what had happened, she had heard about the pregnancy from Polly a few hours before, and knew full well what the atmosphere in the Shelby home would be right now. She was right - it felt like you were in hell, like someone had flipped a switch, turned everything upside down, like you had fallen asleep and awoken in a nightmare world, like you had read about in your dystopian books. She heard the break in your voice, the gasps for breath, and it half broke her heart that you were going through what she had. She couldn't leave you up there, not when she was sure the outcome of it would be frosty silences, or vicious arguments with your brothers, over and over again. And when you had sobbed down the phone how much you wanted this baby - like she had wanted Karl, she invited you (or rather, instructed you) to come down to London, to live with her.

In that moment it felt like Ada had thrown you a lifeline. You barely thought about it, agreeing hurriedly, and throwing things into a suitcase, and making it to the train station within half an hour of the phone call. You only spoke to Polly before you left, and though she didn't say it, you knew from the soft look in her eyes that she knew this was the best thing for you. And that filled your heart with some hope, always having believed in Polly's ability to not see into the future exactly, but to have a sense about these kinds of things. Before you got out the door, she put a wad of money into your hands, and pressed a kiss to your cheek. You tried to turn away before she could see the tears dripping down your cheeks.

Polly watched you walk down the street, head held high, a heavy feeling in her heart, and anger too, her nephews having pushed away yet another of their siblings. She never told you about how they reacted when they got home, nor did she tell about how Isaiah Jesus appeared on her doorstep, knocking frantically, or how his expression faltered when Tommy told him you'd gone away, and when something in the young mans eyes died when he told him he wouldn't tell him where. Tommy thought he was protecting you, and Polly did too.

For a while.

*************************************************The summers heat was almost unbearable, you decided, fanning your face with a half folded over newspaper, staring out the window, at the street below. The Peaky Blinders boys - two of them, stood at the end of the street, looking completely casual, almost blending in, though you knew them well by now - they were two of the lads Tommy had hired to protect Ada and you, and little Karl. You winced again, rubbing at your back, eyes looking at the large baby bump protruding from your stomach. You were eight and a half months pregnant, and it was pure, unadulterated hell, especially in this fucking heat. The 'practice' contractions the doctor told you you would have were a pain in the arse, getting worse and worse, and had been since yesterday evening, some twelve hours ago, though you were far too stubborn to tell your sister about the pain you were in.

"You better not hurt this much when you decide to come, little one." You murmured with a half smile, fingers caressing the space you imagined your baby's head would be. You were sat in Karl's old nursery - soon to be your baby's, looking at the constellations and moons that Ada had painstakingly painted when she moved in.

Losing Isaiah had taken a toll on you - a visible one at that - and it had taken you months to put yourself slowly back together, but it hadn't marred the love you had for this baby inside of you. A girl, Polly had reckoned, when she came to visit a few months ago, though Ada argued with a knowing smile that she thought it was a boy. Either way, you had said with a laugh, you just wanted them here. You couldn't deny that you were lonely. The only people you spoke to nowadays was Ada, and Polly, and Karl, if he counted, though it was doubtful, as the most he could do was gurgle adorable, if incoherent, noises.

“Y/N!” Ada yelled up the stairs, “Polly’s on the phone for you!”

“Coming!” You called back, pushing yourself into a standing position, half waddling towards the staircase, yet another one of those bloody practice contractions hitting you. Except this time, you felt something different. You felt what you were almost sure was your water breaking.

“Ada!” You shrieked ,half hysterical already.

********************************************

"Okay, okay. Polly's gonna be on her way soon, okay?" Ada soothed you, you being now sat on the couch, as you had a mild meltdown, having told her at least ten times already that you didn't think you could do it, and oh fuck I'm going to be a mother. A mother, Ades! I can't do that!

"She's four hours away!" You sobbed. "I can't do it Ades, I can't do it."

"You can." She told you firmly, her eyes locking with yours. "You can okay? I'm right here. I'm not going to leave you."

"No, I can't." Your voice quietened a little. "I can't do it without him, Ades. I know I can't. Not without Is."

Her face looked pained for a few moments.

“It’s going to be okay.”

“It’s not! I was fucking stupid, Ades. All my life, he’s always been there, he’s always helped me through everything. He held my hand when I had to get stitches when John didn’t catch me when I fell outta the tree, and when I got gravel stuck in my knees, and when ... when everything bad happened, he was there. What am I gonna do?” You exclaimed, blinking back more tears.

She gripped your shoulders, looking into your eyes.

“You know what, Y/N? You’re going to be a great mum. You’re gonna be what mum was to us, okay? She fucking looked after us even after dad left, and tried her fucking best until she died. And you need to take all of the strength she had, and use it. Because you can do this. I know you can, okay. And when have I ever been wrong about anything?”

At the mention of your mum, your heart swelled a little, the pain felt a little bit less. Ada was right.

“When you told John I wasn’t going to fall out of the tree so he didn’t need to catch me?” You laughed tearily, and she snorted.

“Yeah, asides from that. You’re going to be fine, Squirrel, okay? I’m right here.”

*******************************************

“When the fuck is Pol going to get here.” You groaned, walking around the room slowly, trying to dim the pain a little, after the glass of whiskey that Ada had given you, saying that her birth wasn’t that bad with Karl (having been piss drunk at the time), hadn’t seemed to work. All it had done was make you feel a little lightheaded, and so, when the living room door burst open, showing two figures, you were half sure you had become a lightweight all those months without drink, and were almost convinced you were hallucinating.

Polly stood, looking half determined and half worried, not looking at all like she had just stepped off a train, and walked straight towards you, and as much as you would have usually have embraced her, your eyes stayed focused on the person with her. The pain of labour was very quickly replaced by another pain, one that felt like a dagger to the heart. Because that couldn’t be Isaiah. It couldn’t.

When Polly had come to visit, those months ago, she didn’t mention Isaiah, only slipped you a letter as she was about to leave. She didn’t say who it was from, but you recognised the lettering on the envelope, the scrawl that’s only belonged to one person you knew. It had gone unopened for months, and still was, next to your bed upstairs, you being too scared for the rejection you were sure lay inside. Now? With him here? You wished you had opened it.

“Hey.” He said softly, cap between his hands, eyes flickering between your face, and your largely swollen belly.

Your throat felt like it had closed up, and if you opened your mouth, you expected you would just make silent movements with it, gaping like the goldfish you had won at the fair when you were younger.

“How long has it been?” Polly’s voice broke you away from his gaze, back to what was happening.

“Five hours, since her waters broke.” Ada supplied from beside you, her hands carefully rubbing your back, shooting Isaiah a look that was a mixture of thank fuck you’re here and fuck off you wanker.

It was the exactly how you felt, to be honest, as he stood at the door, not moving, not sure what to do.

“Come on, love, let’s get you sat down.” Polly said gently, guiding you towards the sofa. You weren’t sure why Polly had brought him here, or how you really felt, or how he felt. And it was killing you, the not knowing.

“Why’re you here?” Your voice cracked.

Polly and Ada gave each other a glance, a silent decision.

“Five minutes.” Polly spoke to Isaiah, pulling Ada with her. “If you upset her, you’re out.”

With that, the door slammed behind the both. You almost felt pity for him - having the two scariest women you knew angry at you, was sure to scare even Tommy Shelby shitless.

You both stayed where you were, silent, for a few moments.

“I looked for you. For months.” He spoke, softly, sitting down at the edge of the couch you were on, unsure of what to do, of whether to go back to how you used to, and sit right next to you, or treat you like an almost stranger, and keep his distance.

You just blinked at him. “Why?”

“Because I ... I fucked up. I was a prick.”

“Yeah, you were.” You agreed, leaning back against the sofa cushions, not anger in your tone, but pain. Waiting to see how this would all play out.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me forever. If you never wanted to see me again. If you wouldn’t even tell the ... the baby who I was.”

“Is.” You sighed. “Isaiah.” You corrected yourself, the old nickname feeling sour in your mouth now. “You aren’t ready for a kid. I can’t blame you. I can blame how you reacted. But I can’t blame you for that.”

“You’re wrong.” He spoke again. “Once you left my house, I ... I was so angry. At myself, at you, at whatever bloody God there is for letting this happen. Because I was scared. I was scared because I didn’t factor in a baby to my plan, and I was scared because I knew how those people, the people here, would treat you, and our baby, for me, for their father, the colour of my skin.”

You swallowed. It wasn’t as if the thought hadn’t occurred to you, over and over again, thoughts rushing through your brain, as you begged internally, for things to be different when your baby was born, in London, for people to not care about their ethnicity, for them to not show the same hate you had seen people show Isaiah since you were a kid.

“And I was scared that I couldn’t do it. That I couldn’t be a father. It was only when I realised that the person that mattered most over all of that, was you. And then I realised what I’d done.”

“But you didn’t come for me.” You said tearily. “You didn’t come and tell me any of this.”

“I went to your house the morning afterwards. I was gonna ask you to marry me. I had this whole apology figured out, and I just... I was going to make things right again. I was so sure. And then Tommy told me you were gone. And he wouldn’t say where, or with who, and I just... I couldn’t think of what to do. After a while, I figured it was Ada, and I came to London, but there’s no way I could find this place without any help, and no one wanted to help. They all said that you’d be better off without me. I - I started to believe it.”

He had tears in his eyes now, and your heart broke a little more. Tentatively, you stretched out your hand to his, and as his fingers slotted between yours, you felt a familiar sense of warmth.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. “I got your letter. I didn’t open it, I thought... I just thought it would be you saying you didn’t want anything to do with the baby.”

“I do, Y/N. I want everything to do with this baby. It took losing you to figure that out, but I have. I swear. I’ll never, never leave you, okay. Not again. I promise. Just give me this chance. Please.”

His voice was half begging now, but you were already saying yes, feeling more complete and happy than you had since before you learnt you were pregnant. Feeling, for the first time, that you could do this. That you could do anything, as long as you had Is with you.

“Okay, Is.” You spoke softly. “Okay.”

[thepeacetea]

Broken Angels Ch. 2

Hi everyone! First off, I want to say thank you to everyone who liked, commented, and reblogged this story. I never thought that it would get that big of a response. Thank you!  Now I tried to tag everyone who asked and if i missed you, I am sorry. Just send me a message and I’ll get you in the next chapter. Anyways, I tried my best with this chapter, so I hope you guys enjoy! (The bold lettering is French) Again, if you have questions, comments, or suggestions please let me know. Peace!

There were few things that take Jim Gordon by surprise anymore. After being a cop for thirty years, chief commissioner for ten of them, he had seen it all. Villains come and go, heroes rise and fall, comrades fall in service, dirty cops, political corruption, nearly dying multiple times, his daughter nearly being killed by the Joker. You name it, he’s seen it. So the sight of a tiny girl running through the streets of Gotham wasn’t something he would’ve taken much notice in, he shouldn’t have, really. But the fact that this tiny girl was effectively shoving aside people twice, if not three times her weight as if they were nothing, did. Angry shouts followed the girl, but she was either ignoring them, or she couldn’t hear them. When she came in contact with him, the force behind her shove nearly sent him into the wall. But he caught a glimpse of her face. She looked . . . panicked. He could barely make out the tears before she was gone. Bolting straight into traffic.

The angered shouts instantly turned panicked when the crowd saw the truck fly around a blind corner, heading straight for the girl.

“KID, LOOK OUT!”

At the exact moment that was shouted, the driver slammed on the breaks in a desperate attempt to stop. The sound a squealing breaks filled the air just as the girl looked up and froze. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as everyone realized that the truck wouldn’t stop in time. Allowing them time to  mentally prepare themselves to witness the crash.

Gordon wasn’t aware when he had started moving. He honestly didn’t. All he knew was that he was running faster then he had ever ran in his life. For him, it was as if the world was moving in slow motion. He could clearly make out the second the driver’s face shifted when they knew they couldn’t stop. He saw, heart twisting in panic, as the girl’s body stiffened, bracing for impact. How her eyes, blown and filled with panic, stayed fixed on the truck. Gordon swore he felt his heart stop the moment he tackled her, the truck clipping them, sending them both spinning. Turning their bodies mid-fall, Gordon took the brunt of it before they rolled to a stop.

Ears ringing and heart in his throat, Gordon slowly uncurled himself from the girl. Scanning the streets, he was thankful to find all traffic had stopped, though burning rubber penetrated the air. Ugly, black tire tracks lead to the truck that had stopped about fifteen-twenty feet from where the had been standing. Turning his attention back to the girl, Gordon found her still curled in a defensive ball, shaking.

“Miss, its ok. You’re alright. Your safe.” Gordon said, trying to keep his voice as low and calming as possible.

When he didn’t get a response, he tried again. This time, gently laying his hand on her shoulder to shake her. Still no response. By now, the crowds had gathered, all with phones out, presumable recording, and Gordon’s concern had spiked. Slowly rolling her, the first thing Gordon took notice of was the rapidly rising hand print displayed on her right cheek, accompanied by a busted lip. Next was her eyes. Big, blue, and completely dilated with panic. He wasn’t even sure if she knew what was going on. Finally, and most concerning was her breathing. The pattern was sporadic, coming in short bursts, and much to fast.

“Miss, listen. I need you to calm down. Your hyperventilating. I need you to take slow, deep breaths. Do you understand?” Gordon said, trying desperately to get the girl to focus on him.

“Je . . . Je . . . n-n-ne peut pas respirer. Je ne peux pas respirer!” She manage to choke out, tears steaming down her face as her hands flew to her throat, grasping at her necklace.

Gordon hadn’t spoken French since high school. Even back then he was never good at it. And this girl kept repeating that same phrase over and over. The crowd wasn’t helping, the noise they were making only seemed to drive the already panicked girl deeper into her panic attack.

“Give the girl some space! Anyone who doesn’t know how to speak French I need you quiet! You’re only making her panic attack worse!” Gordon shouted, his patience snapping at the crowd before turning on his comm. “This is Gordon. I need a crew down here with a medical team stat. Minor was almost hit by a car. Suspected abuse on the minor. I also need a French translator.” He barked, turning his attention back to the girl, trying desperately to remember what little French he learned.

“C’est bon, c’est bon.” It was the only thing he could remember.

The girl seemed to snap out of whatever world she had locked herself in when he whispered those words. Her eyes cleared a little, showing understanding. Suddenly, Gordon found his arms full as she launched herself at him. She was even smaller then he had first thought. This kid weight almost nothing. Small arms anchored themselves around him as she buried her face into his shirt. Her body jerking violently with sobs. Streams of broken French spilled out in-between the tears, but it was so choppy that Gordon had no hopes of understanding. The girl felt like she was breaking apart. Like she could shatter at any minute. So Gordon did the only thing he could. He held her, slowly rocking her as he stroked her hair. Continuing to whisper that one phrase over and over.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. It felt like hours, but he knew it could have only been minutes until he heard the familiar wails of sirens. Soon two crews were pushing the crowds back and clearing a path for the medics.

“Commissioner, what happened?”

Looking up, Gordon found the familiar face of Montgomery Hill.  At the sound of the new voice, the girl tried to grow smaller as the grip on his jacket tightened.

“I’ll explain later. Do you have the translator?”

“I’m right here.”

Turning in the direction of the voice, Gordon saw a young man, twenty-four if he had to guess, push his way through the thickening crowd. The guy was tall, well built, messy brown hair that was windswept, and mismatching eyes.

“Commissioner, this is Mark Spencer. He works at the airport, we pulled him from the security team.” Hill explain, waving the medics over to assess the girl.

But as they tried to puller her away from Gordon, she let one of the most desperate screams Gordon had ever heard. One that began nagging at his mind. He had heard it somewhere before. He knew he had.  The sudden commotion caused the crowds to press in again as the medic pulled his hands away.

“Spencer.” Growled Hill, spurring the young translator into action.

“Miss, it’s ok. They’re medics. They just want to make sure your ok. That your not hurt. It’s ok. They’re not going to hurt you.”

The girl just stiffened at his words, but she stopped screaming. Gordon caught Spencer’s eyes.

“Ask her name. Introduce yourself. You need to get her to calm down.” Gordon instructed, his hand still running through the girls hair.

“Miss, I’m Mark Spencer. I work at Gotham International Airport as a translator. Can I know your name?”

“M - Ma - Mar - inette”

“Marinette. That’s a very pretty name. Can you tell me your last name?”

“. . .Du - Dupain-Ch - Cheng.”

“Ok, that’s good. Where are you from Marinette?”

“P-P-Paris. My . . . my class is h-here on a s-sch- school t-t-trip.”

“Paris. Wow, you’re a long way from home. Alright, Marinette. We need you to let the medic’s look at you. We need to make sure your alright. They are not going to hurt you, I promise. Me and you friend are going to be right there with you alright. But I need you to let go, ok.”

Gordon watched as the two of them talked, almost wincing at how broken the girl, Marinette, sounded. She was silent for a few moments, just staring at Spencer before she slowly loosened her grip on Gordon. Both Gordon and Spencer gave her encouraging smiles as she let the medics look her over.

As Spencer translated for them, Gordon studied the girl. Now that he could see her, he could only curse silently at the person who had put her in that state. The entire right side of her face was swollen, the hand print still very visible. Her bottom lip was busted, if was from the slap or from him tackling her, he couldn’t tell. But it was Her eyes that worried him, they were still dilated, the blue only appeared in a small ring around her pupil. Their eyes met for a moment. As sharp baby blue collided with cloudy bluebells, Gordon felt a jolt run through him. He had seen those eyes before.He didn’t know how or when, but at some point in time he had looked into those eyes.The longer he studied her, the more sure he became.

As she offered him one of the saddest smiles he had ever seen, Gordon swore he was going to find out what happened to her. Catching Hill’s eye, Gordon knew he wasn’t alone in that thought. Whoever was behind this was going to have a lot to answer for.

Turning his attention back to the crowds, Gordon let out an exhausted sigh. This was going to be a long day.

@mystery-5-5   @captainmac6  @you-will-never-know-how-I-think  @mochinek0 @sonif50 @zalladane @thebananathatwrites @schrodingers25 @kuroko26 @miraculousbelladonna @souleaterlicestein @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @ijustwannabecanadian @ellerahs @ranger-paladinikoe @xxmadamjinxx @derpingrainbow @sassy-spocko @vixen-uchiha @mooshoon

[fleebledotcomrbls]

You Matter

Chapter 5

Summary: Logan sneaks out with Remy

Tw: Suffocation, Talks of death, Verbal Fighting, Outing somone as trans (its in passing but fair waring), metions of violence, almost drowning (let me know if i missed one)

Words: 1897

 The day seemed to drag as he watched the clock tick all day. It was friday and eleven o’clock He had his first training session with the hero's tomorrow. His mind was pulled right back into reality as Declan returned from his last meeting of the day. 

“Hey Lo,” He smiled at Logan. His eyes were heavier than usual, “Tonight I'm heading home to Remus. He will come with me in the morning to see you. Remember the rules.”

“Stay in my room. Don’t touch anything, and nobody comes in or out.” Logan recited. His father put these rules in place when he was ten. Tonight was the first night he was breaking them. There should be no reason Declan suspected him, but he couldn’t help but toss and turn these past nights. Right now is when it could all fall apart. If his dad suspected him for a minute. He called upon every bit of his minimal acting abilities.

“Good,” Declan looked straight into Logan’s eyes. Logan tried to keep his poker face, “You need to go to bed on time. You look like you aren’t getting enough sleep.” Declan grabbed his cheek and gave him a quick peck, “Love you.”

“Ew.” Logan deadpanned. Declan laughed as he exited the room.

Logan relaxed and looked down at his outfit. He knew it would be bad to show up in a onesie, but what else could he wear? He ran to the cluttered sideroom, with his bed and assortment of materials for all his interests.

He looked to his closet. It was full of star maps and more importantly his clothes. He looked through his closet. He had a lot of the same pair of jeans,  shirts from the lab, and flip-flops. He assumed he shouldn’t show up in his favorite shirt that says, ‘Got Powers?’. He scoured finding nothing. He looked across his room to see Declan’s mini drawer he keeps in Logan’s bedroom. He dug through the drawer, he saw a lot of the same shirts, but in his father’s size. Then, he saw a simple black polo shirt and a blue tie. He smiled and pulled the shirt and tie on. He grabbed his jeans. He went up to the door of his room and before he opened the door, he grabbed the R coin, and put it in his pocket.

He walked to the back of the lab, he had snuck out before, but it was to the edge of the woods. He never left sight of the lab. He saw the back door. He bolted a sudden jolt of excitement rushing through him. He felt someone grab his arm, and he felt the air push out of his lungs.

“What are you doing here kid!’ The attacker was looking at his band and let go of Logan’s arm. Recoiling as if he had touched fire.He went to grab his walkie-talkie as he fell onto the ground. Remy stood behind him, his palm outstretched. He had a small backpack.

“Snitches get stitches,” He looked up at Logan, “Ya ready to head out not so secret spy.”

Logan looked down at the man and placed a hand on his chest. Remy quickly took his hand, “He’s asleep. Nobody’s powers can kill someone. For someone who's been surrounded by powers your whole life, that would seem like a no brainer.”

 As Remy opened the door Logan contemplated the words. Letting their weight sit on him. Remy was right, Logan should know more about powers. He had met so many empaths and power canclers, and lots of people whose powers were extremely emotionally driven. He was allowed to walk around like any kid at one point, but that was when he was four or five. They decided to isolate him after he made a huge vacuum around other kids. They didn’t want him endangering others. It hit him that Remy was the first person he talked to with powers that wasn’t trying to control him in a long time.

Logan stepped into the dank grass outside, the smell of rain dancing in his nostrils. He felt a chill. The cold hitting his bare arms, Remy grabbed a flashlight from his bag. The stars shone bright, Logan couldn’t help but stare. He had seen so many photos and had plenty of maps, but the real thing was beautiful. The stars flickered, and Logan’s eyes dragged across the sky, to find the familiar shapes. There's Mars, Sirius, Orion, and The Big Dipper.

“Logan!” Logan was broke from his trance by Remy, “We’ve got to head out. We can go look at the stars in Carnville. The sky is clearer there anyway. We will be walking a mile or two, so we can’t wait around.”

Logan was not as strong as he should be. He walks around the Lab often, it was nothing like the road they walked on, but Remy distracted him.

“What's your favorite color?” Remy interrupted the cicada’s single note song.

“Blue. Yours?”

“Brown. Now you ask a question.”

“Hm,” Logan contemplated the question to ask,”Why are you here? You seem to have control over your power.”

“Some kids started attacking this other kid. Some kid could read minds, and outed this kid as trans. The kid started getting bullied, but some kid started beating the crap out of him. I put the kid to sleep. Their mom freaked and threanted sueing my mom, so I lied and said it was an accident. You?”

Logan should have expected the question to be asked back, but he had no plan. Almost everyone he's met has already knew why. He decided on a half truth, “I was put away for weak control on my powers.”

“For nine years? Damn, this place is dedicated. Hmm, you got any hobbies?”

“I like the stars, reading, and studying the periodic table.” Logan looked back to see the hospital completely out of view. There was no going back now.

“Down there is the road the superheroes from the academy use to go on missions, were following just far away enough so that they can’t see us,” Remy pointed to the left as a distant siren was heard, “So Mr.Nine Years, how is the outside world?”

“Cold, wet, and…”Logan looked to the sky, “Beautiful.”

“Yeah, after a rain most likely wasn’t prime time to sneak out, but we can still have fun.”

“I quite enjoy it.” Remy laughed at that. The walk continued with back and forth conversation.

Logan started to smell something salty, “Whats thats smell.”

Remy’s eyes lit up, “Just my favorite scent in the whole world.” Remy grabbed Logan’s wrist and raced off. Logan nearly tripped on multiple branches just trying to keep pace. Logan saw a faint light through the woods.

Remy broke through the trees, “This is Carnvill.” The town was alive despite it being at least 1 am. The market in the center was full of people trading goods. A bar nearby was lit up with fairy lights and people’s laughter. Actually, everything had fairy lights. There was a beautiful orange glow. The smell...had much to be desired. Logan looked to his left to see the ocean.

It was the first time Logan had seen the ocean, even though his whole life he had been around it. It was enchanting. The stars were reflected in the waves, and the glow of the town highlighted the sea. It was haunting, no one knew exactly what was beneath the water, but damn was it beautiful.

“I knew you would love it,” Remy led logan to a cliff that looked over the ocean, “Now we can stargaze. Those woods were not a good view.” Remy was right, it was an amazing view. The clouds had cleared. Logan could see the stars as if it was a picture…,but it wasn’t. It was real. Logan shivered the cold nipping at his nose. As Remy put his jacket on Logan, he couldn’t help it as water vapor came from his eyes. It only got worse as the rocks became liquidy.

“Whoa! Is something wrong?” The boy’s cool attitude slipped. Logan just started bawling harder.

“I-It’s j-ust the-that you.” Logan was suddenly sobbing, “You don’t think i’m dangerous.God, I hate emotions!” Remy turned to Logan and hugged him.

“Logan, when I saw that band I froze. I had written you off as someone who never questioned the system,” Logan felt vapor rise from his shoulders, “but then I saw that band. You never had time to question it. Heck, you never had people to help you question it. Have you ever thought for just a moment,” Remy pulled away, his face was damp, “That you’re allowed to feel and be a kid.”

Logan stood up, “No.” He tried to calm himself. He can’t...He can’t let his emotions get the better of him. That's when they hurt people, “You don’t know my me. What I’ve done.”

“Logan, You were 4!”

“I STILL DID IT!”

“YOU SHOULDN’T BE PUNISHED BY NOT LIVING,” It dawned on Logan that Remy was crying, “NINE YEARS! You’ve never played with a Wii or-or heard Lizzo! No first day of school. No having your friend pressure you into listening to MCR! NO CHILDHOOD!”

Logan felt something roll down his cheeks, he placed a hand to see liquid tears come out his eyes. Liquid, huh. That's the first time that had happened. This is the first time a lot of things have happened. Logan sat on the edge of the cliff and awkwardly patted next to him. Remy sat down, “I’ve never listened to MCR. You’re my- You’re my friend. You can peer pressure me.” Remy looked at Logan and started laughing. Remy fished something out his bag. He pulled out a cellular phone and a cup. He placed the phone in the cup and then he reached a hand out to Logan. Logan took his hand and Remy pressed his phone as lyrics came out.

Teenagers scare the living shit out of me

“Logan for once. Stop caring!” and Logan did. In this small town in the middle of nowhere. He danced and danced. Remy danced along with Logan. Steam started clouding around them. They were in their own world. Than Logan heard Remy scream,

Logan was alert in minutes. He ran as he saw Remy plummet of the cliff. Terror in his eyes. Logan jumped. As he fell he grabbed Remy mid-air. As they descended Logan felt a harsh smack. Logan realised suddenly that they were in a...bubble? of ice? Remy suddenly let go.

“HOLY SHIT! I ALMOST DIED.” Remy started laughing.

Logan started crying, “I’m sorry. Remy we’re gonna die in here.”

“Hey Hey Hey. Shh. Don’t be like that. Yeah maybe we might suffocate, but at least we're not alone.” Remy laughed.

“God, how are you so positive. We could DIE. Were most likely going to.”

“Decide your last words.”

“What?”

“If we’re gonna die we need good last words.”

“At least we’re getting to see the bottom of the ocean.”

“Dang, how am I supposed to top that,” Logan felt lightheaded, “Umm, Into the unknown.”

“Logan, hug me.” Logan did and as Logan hugged him, he started to feel sleepy. He knew Remy was putting him to sleep, but he was too tired to care.

“Into the unknown…”

Taglist: @thewhiteraven73 @hereforapathylogic @illogicalthinking @power-in-plain-sight

[wordscorrupt]

43??

43. “I feel like I can’t breathe.” Ft. biodad!Tony and kid Peter.

Tony had never been a heavy sleeper of any sorts. The slightest creak, squeak or even wind brushing against the windows, amongst others sounds, would drag him from his unconscious state and back to the land of the living.

Therefore, when Friday blared an alarm just before the asscrack of dawn, he was inevitably up in less than two seconds flat, sleep forgotten as he tried to get his bearings straight. He fumbled around for the light switch on the bedside lamp, letting out a groan as he flipped it on and the light assaulted his eyes.

He rubbed at his eyes, letting out a stiff yawn. “Fri, what’s goin’ on?”

“Peter is experiencing a severe asthma attack, sir. I have already informed Doctor Banner and the rest of the medical staff of your imminent arrival.”

If there was any sleep still lagging in Tony’s body, it was completely wiped out and replaced with pure adrenaline instead. Friday hadn’t even finished her sentence before he was running out of the room, racing towards Peter’s room at the end of the hallway.

“Peter!” Tony called out, nearly breaking the hinges off the door in his attempt to reach his son as quickly as possible. He stumbled into the room, flicking the light on and the scene in front of him had him frozen in place.

His eleven-year-old son was sprawled on the floor, grasping a tiny hand to his chest, trying desperately to get a breath in as his chest caved in and out. His other hand was wrapped loosely around his inhaler that had obviously done little to help this situation. His blanket was tangled up near his feet, hinting at the fact that Peter had fallen trying to get out bed, probably in his attempt to get to his dad. Peter’s terrified, tear stricken face turned towards him and Tony felt a piece of his heartbreak off and shatter in that exact moment.

It was that pang in his chest, along with the piercing sounds of his son’s wheezes that got the adrenaline coursing through his veins once more and without another moment of hesitation, Tony made a beeline to his son, falling onto his knees in front of him. Trembling hands reached out, smoothing his son’s hair back, as he cooed, “Hey, baby. Daddy’s here. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Peter dropped the inhaler, grabbing onto the front of Tony’s shirt with the same desperation that was plastered across his face.

Tony easily scooped his son into his arms, pressing him against his chest, feeling the boy’s small arms wrap around his neck while his legs wrapped around his waist. Once Peter was safely situated in his arms it was a mad dash to the MedBay.

He was so focused on getting to the elevator, he nearly crashed into Bruce who had run up to meet them. The two didn’t exchange any words, just a shared frantic look before heading towards the elevator.

“His inhaler?” Bruce questioned as the doors closed behind them. He pressed two fingers to Peter’s wrist.

“No help.”

“Feel li’e -”

Wheeze.

“C’nt -”

Wheeze.

“ - B’eathe, ‘ad.”

“Shh, I know, baby. Don’t talk. Save your breath. Try to take nice deep breaths for me, okay? Follow my breathing, honey.”

That was easier said than done. He started taking deep breaths in an effort to guide his son’s breathing. In the end, it made little difference but inadvertently helped Tony to focus on the situation at hand rather on the devastating scenarios his mind was trying to act out.

The elevator ride down to the medbay was probably the longest minute of Tony’s life. The elevator let out a monotone ding at every floor that was passed and each one might as well have signified another year being taken off his life.

Once they reached their destination, he didn’t even wait for the doors to fully open before he was darting out of the elevator. The medical staff had been standing around, waiting for them and he could only imagine the sight he was offering them. If there was ever a time his guards were completely down it was right now as he stood there barefoot in pajamas with a frantic expression marring his face, a death grip on his son.

Bruce immediately started barking out orders and the staff quickly begin to surround them and more than one pair of arms was reaching to take Peter away from. Tony momentarily tightened his hold on his kid before the rational part of his mind thankfully took over. Peter was plucked out from his arms and the boy was desperately reaching out for his father as he was settled down on the gurney, oxygen mask immediately covering his nose and mouth. The front of the bed was moved up and Peter was propped up against it as staff cut away his shirt with a pair of scissors, making way for heart monitors to be strapped to his chest.

Tony pushed his way to Peter’s side. “I’m right here, sweetheart,” He reassured, grabbing hold of Peter’s closest hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

The next hour for Tony was all too reminiscent of the previous asthma attacks Peter had suffered through. At first, Bruce ordered for a nebulizer treatment was set up through the mask and in the meanwhile, two nurses were tasked with starting an IV in order to give him a stronger medication.  

“D’ddy!” Peter sobbed, writhing around on the gurney in a futile attempt to escape the needle the nurses were digging around in his arm. This was the third attempt.  

Tony was beside himself as he peppered kisses onto Peter’s forehead, cooing, “Shh, daddy’s here, baby. Daddy’s here. It’s almost over, I promise.” He adjusted the mask on Peter’s face, pressing down on it gently. “Just breathe, honey. It’ll all be over soon.”

“This one blew too.” Tony heard the nurse state to their partner and he gritted his teeth in anger but he refused to lash out for Peter’s sake. He knew the medical staff always had a notoriously hard time trying to insert an IV in his son.

“Last time we set one up in his foot, didn’t we?” Bruce questioned and Tony nodded his head in agreement. Betrayal settled in his chest because he knew it was going to be even more painful for his son.

Ten agonizing minutes later, Tony lets out a breath of relief as the IV was finally set up in Peter’s right foot and medication was being pushed through. The effects are almost instant as Peter’s airways are forced open. Tony’s heart nearly bursts out of his chest as he watches his son take several untroubled deep breaths. Peter turns to look at him with wide eyes, as if not quite believing the fact he could once again conduct the simple act of breathing.

“That’s right, kiddo, you’re okay, now,” Tony encourages and at this point he’s lost count of how many times he’s told his son those exact words tonight. He buries his face into Peter’s curls, basks in the smell of the strawberry shampoo before standing back up. “You can rest now. Let the medicine do its job.”

His dad’s words are like magic as the tension evaporates from Peter’s body and he seems to almost melt into the bed. His eyes flutter to a close and Tony busies himself in brushing away the stray tears on Peter’s cheeks, willing to keep his own from falling. He smooths back the hair that was plastered to Peter’s forehead from sweat and presses his lips to the cold skin, letting them linger for a few seconds. He tucks Peter in, being mindful of the IV and wires monitoring his vitals, before finally taking a seat.

Bruce lingers for a few minutes, tracking Peter’s breathing before finally concluding that he was stable. He leaves, with the promise to be back soon.

Exhaustion starts to weigh heavily on him as he tries settles in a little more comfortably in the chair once Bruce leaves. He rests his chin in his hand, watching his son’s chest rise up and down. Eventually, he drifts off, starting to wake up an hour later by several familiar voices.

One of them realizes he’s stirring and settles a soft hand on his shoulder to steady him. He doesn’t need to open his eyes to know who it is. “Hey, Pep,” He calls out, voice groggy. The woman gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

She waits for Tony to open his eyes and tells him, “Friday told me what was going on as soon as I came into the office. I’m sorry, I should have been here with you.”

“It’s fine.” Tony maneuvers himself back up to a sitting position, having slid down in the chair sometime while sleeping. Pepper backs away and moves off to the side, giving Tony a view of Bruce and Steve who were surrounding Peter’s bed. Steve was dutifully running his fingers through Peter’s curls while Bruce was taking a thorough listen to Peter’s chest with his stethoscope. The second Steve realizes that Tony’s awake he pulls back, allowing him to come up to Peter’s side instead.

“How is he?” Tony asks as he took Steve’s place, laying a soothing hand on Peter’s forehead, thankful his son was still asleep.

Bruce moves the metal end from one side of Peter’s chest to the other, explaining, “His lungs are sounding much better. Vitals are stable. Pulse ox is back to normal as well.” He finishes up, tucking the blanket back around Peter. “I talked to his asthma specialist a few minutes ago. He’s going to be prescribing him some new medications to hopefully prevent anything like this happening again.”

Tony nods his head as he reaches out to smooth the blanket across Peter’s chest, leaving his hand settled on top.

“He’s gonna be okay, Tony. In fact, you can take him back upstairs right now. “ Bruce saw the hesitation on his friend’s face. “I’ll be with you guys all day, monitoring him. Heck, the whole team will probably be hovering around. Let the little guy rest in the comfort of his own bed.”  

Tony finally agreed and Bruce moved to remove the IV and the monitoring equipment. Steve argued to Tony to let him carry Peter back upstairs and Tony watched with a careful eye as the super soldier gingerly picked his son up. He managed to get Peter settled in his arms without disturbing a single hair on the kid’s head. Steve gave him a proud grin which Tony fondly rolled his eyes at.

“That’s precious cargo in your arms, Cap.” Tony reminded him as they all started walking towards the elevator.

“I know.”

This elevator ride was a striking contrast to the one he had taken just a few hours before. Instead of painful wheezes emitting from his son, it was soft snores and Tony had never been more grateful.

Once they reached the penthouse, Tony led the way to his bedroom with Steve and Bruce the following suit while Pepper opted to go to the kitchen instead, most likely to start on breakfast. Once Peter was situated in bed, Bruce and Steve excused themselves, knowing that Tony was most likely going to curl up next to his son and sleep.

Tony shut the door behind them, moments later crawling into bed next to his son. He wrapped his arms around the kid, Peter immediately curling up against him. Tony smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of Peter’s head before closing his eyes, letting the sound of Peter’s gentle breathing lull him to sleep.

[bittermarrow]

Break the Chain // (Thomas Hewitt x Reader)

A/n: Why do I write angst? It is so painfullll, yet so good and I’m indecisive and like torturing myself. Also, this takes place after Thomas gets his arm chopped off and chases after Erin.

Warnings: Graphic Gore/Blood, Angst, lots of feelings.

Words: 2200+

.   .   .

Your entire body burns with a distinct kind of pain, your throat raw and pumping large gulps of air through your lungs despite the discomfort that doing so inflicts. You can feel warm gushes of blood dripping down your chest from the fresh gash streaking across your sternum. Your nose feels clogged yet somehow still oozing a thin stream of crimson, your cracked and peeling split bottom lip is covered in the blood leaking from your nose.

Your chest aches and stings with boiling hot shots of irregular pain, the more you move the stronger your agony becomes. But still, you keep moving, the heavy downpour of a rare nightly rain leaves your clothes and hair soaked. You are jogging down the muddy road, your flimsy sandals slipping and squealing as the wet bottoms of your heel slide over the sole. You can feel the start blades of damp grass sticking to your feet and the dirty splashes of murky puddles against your ankles.

Your chunky dog collar chafes against your neck and the heavy, snapped chain jingles and sways with your movements. You can barely see much with how dark it is, but the length of the road acts as your guide. You’re wheezing so hard it sounds like you'll collapse any minute, but you know better. You weren't going to rest until you found him.

You were feeling a lot of things that confused you right now. You were angry, no, fuming that Thomas had run off after that girl, Erin, risking his health to catch her, to protect his family. You felt an unsettling amount of relief being able to finally run again, without being chained down like a dog. You felt guilty that you had run, without even telling the others that you were going after Thomas, leaving them to probably think you’d tried to escape. But most of all, you were terrified beyond belief.

All that blood, the sight of the dismembered arm of your most trusted person and all the vermillion smears over the lockers sending you into a panic. You were scared for Thomas’s sake, you knew he wouldn't stop his chase until he’s either caught the woman who hurt his family or killed himself trying. His family’s safety meant way too much to him for him to give up, but you couldn't just let him die out there. There was a chance that he was already… no, no he’s alive! He has to be alive, he’s stronger than that, you have to remind yourself, but it does little to comfort you.

You almost stop breathing and trip over your own feet when you hear the faint sound of a purring motor, you run even faster when you recognize it to be a chainsaw. You look further down the road but it's hard to see anything. You can feel your knees about ready to give out, but you ignore the burning pain. You almost sob in relief when you spot Thomas a few meters down. You slid to a stop and drop to your hands and knees to crawl over to his shaking form.

You finally reach him and use what's left of your strength to turn him over, so he isn't lying face down. You can't tell if Thomas is unconscious or just out of it, and when you can't force out his name through your chattering teeth you drop yourself against him. You press your cheek to his chest and listen for a heartbeat, your other hand scrambles of one of his— his only hand. And your fingers fumble over his wrist to search for a pulse.

He’s still breathing, but his pulse feels very irregular. Like he’s fighting for his life, literally. Either that or he’s fading in and out of consciousness, you can only hope it’s the latter. You startle just a bit when you feel his soaking wet arm drop around your back. It almost feels like it’s gone dead weight. You lift your head up from his chest and look up to his face, looking for any signs of consciousness or awareness.

You can just slightly make out the fluttering of his eyelids through the shadows of his mask and the darkness of night and rain. He suddenly looks you dead in the eyes, but only for a moment before he’s squeezing them shut. You can practically sense your own perturbation rising over the edge of the teacup holding in all of your emotions, ready to spill.

You can feel Thomas’s arm squeezing around you, and his fingers are twisting in the back of your heavy shirt. You don’t realize that his intent was to somehow shield you from the rain, and if he had gathered up enough strength to do it, you wouldn’t have been able to keep from sobbing. Thomas would do anything to keep you safe, even from rain that could potentially make you sick, even as he’s bleeding out on the road. In a way it’s almost a good thing he started to flicker in and out of alertness again.

You take in a deep breath and look over to what's left of his right arm, it’s but chopped off straight through the bone. You scramble around for something to wrap around his wound before he bleeds out, he’s already lost so much. You yank the damp sweatshirt off of your waist and pushed his good arm off of you.

You moved to his other side and hovered a trembling hand over the marred display of gore that was left of Thomas’s arm, some of the skin only hanging by mere strings on the exposed, clipped bone. Your fingertips hesitated when you lowered your hand to the stub of meaty tore-up flesh, and then gently lifted the damaged limb into your lap, trying your very best not to press too hard on it. You wrung out your soaking wet sweatshirt the best you could before hastily wrapping up his arm in it. The moment you applied pressure and began tying the sleeves together as a makeshift bandage Thomas started thrashing.

The sudden shot of pain must have shaken him back into consciousness, and you hold his arm down to the best of your ability, trying desperately to tie the damn knot so you could stop causing him so much agony. Once you had it tight enough to slow the bleeding, you let him jerk his arm away and hiss and moan to himself. He looked completely out of it. Like he was in too much crippling pain to even register that you existed. That wasn’t a good sign. You’d read about how the more blood the human body loses, the more delusional and susceptible to extreme side effects they become.

You are reminded of the roaring chainsaw a good ten feet away from where you kneel beside your lover, half of the saw is in a deep, murky puddle of muck drowning the motorized sound to be distorted into an unpleasant gurgling. You were about to lift yourself up from the street and go to switch it off, but in that same moment, Thomas starts shifting around and making louder, more clear whines. His wrapped arm is trembling on the slick dirt road like it was full of tremoring nerves that jerked and throbbed.

You crawl over so you are behind him and gingerly raise his heavy head up and place it over your lap, noting the streaks of blood beneath his skull. He must’ve hit his head pretty hard on the way down. You start to panic all of a sudden, all of your emotions melding into one big ball of dread and terror as you began to pant. Your heart is pounding in your chest almost painfully vigorously. This was not the time to have an anxiety attack! You supposed this whole situation could be described as your biggest fear, but the more you panic the harder it will be to keep a level head and fix all of this. You needed to help Thomas first, he came first.

You gulp down those feelings like you had done so many times before, putting them on hold for a more important call. You shakily attempt to speak to him, to see if you could get any other verbal responses. You don’t even try to even out the tremors in your throat.

“Thomas, Baby, can you hear me? Please, I can’t—” You broke off into a choked sob, your hot tears mixing with the chilly, fat drops of rain. You cradled his head in your hands and hunched over him just slightly before turning to one side as your emotional turmoil started to leak through the cracks. “To-Tommy? Tommy, please. I’m so scared, I-I’m so sorry, please stay with me. I can’t— not now. Ch-Charlie’s comin’ Don’t worry… don’t worry.”

It wasn’t quite clear who you were truly trying to comfort. You didn't even know if Hoyt was coming, you only hoped that he was. You once again curse yourself for not saying something before you left. You knew you couldn't drag Thomas back to the house by yourself, you didn't know if he could walk if he would make it, you didn't even know if you’d make it! You noticed Thomas was shaking, oh what more could go wrong!? If the blood loss doesn't kill him first, hypothermia will!

You tried to keep Thomas calm when he started to squirm, most likely from the searing pain he was experiencing. You hushed and cooed at him, cradling his head close to your stomach. You bent forward to stop him from touching his other arm, begging him to stay still for just a bit longer. You felt almost guilty for pleading with him to stay awake, but you knew you had to at least try to keep him conscious as long as possible.

The persistent deluge didn't relent in the slightest as five, six, and seven minutes passed by. Finally, you saw headlights approaching, the distinct pure of a truck growing closer and closer. You almost cried out in relief when you recognized whose truck it was, once it was close enough you wave to it to bring the driver’s attention to yourself.

It slowed to and pulled over, without a doubt, Hoyt and Luda Mae hopped out of the truck and rushed over to you. They both looked almost shocked to see you and only hesitated for a moment before they were fussing over Thomas. Luda was already yelling, starting to cry upon seeing her special boy in such a state.

“My boy! What have they done to my boy?!” You were quickly shoved away from Thomas, and as much as you loathed being apart from him and were on the verge of a severe emotional breakdown, you gave Luda some space to grieve and shout over her son. Charlie was a bit of a mess, you'd never seen the man so worried it, and yet so lost. Charlie always knew what to do, but right now… he looked like even he didn’t know how to fix this.

Fortunately, the posing sheriff was quick to get his head back in the right place and got his gears turning.

“C’mon, Mama, help me get ‘em in the truck!” Charlie shouted over the loud downpour, finally taking charge of the situation like he always did. You quickly rushed to help them maneuver a dazed Thomas into the backseat, the hulking man is trying his very best to stumble and walk with the aid of his family, and once he is in the back everyone else is jumping into the vehicle too.

You slide into the backseat with your injured giant, letting him lie his head in your lap and whispering calming things to him as Charlie sped way over the limit back to the Hewitt residence. There was no way they could take him to a hospital with their soon-to-be criminal record, and there was no telling if he’d make the entire long ride there anyway. So he’d have to be taken care of here, you know a bit about first aid from a bunch of medical classes you took way back in high school when you had planned to be a nurse. But you weren’t a surgeon, not even a nurse.

You just hoped to whatever god, ancestor, or force that existed that you could save him. You loved him too much to lose him now.

.   .   .

“So,” You heard Hoyt begin after walking out of the room Thomas was just stabilized and hopefully saved in, you hadn’t been allowed in. The family had assured you that your presence would do more harm than good. You hesitantly agreed.

“What?” You asked, the pure exhaustion and strain in your voice made you sound as worn out as you felt.

“What made ya stay? Ya ran off like you was takin’ your chance to run, why’d you bother with the boy?” The Sheriff questioned, not even sounding snarky or demanding, a genuine inquiry that you weren’t expecting from him. And so, you answered with nothing but truth soaking into every word, perhaps it even shocked you more than it did him.

“Because I love him more than that.” And you did, more than the life void of chains and gore that you could have escaped to. It would mean nothing without him.

Your collar and broken chain were never replaced.

[nerdywrites]

She‘s Perfect

Pairing: James Potter x Lupin!reader

Summary: In which the twin of Remus Lupin falls in love with one of her best friends, who seems to be in love with someone else

Warnings: Jealousy, lil bit of angst at the beginning, some language, protective brother, insecurities

Masterlist

He was always looking at her. The minute she walked in the room, his eyes were on her and his cheeks were then a color of pink they weren’t before. 

Every time (Y/n) tried to have a conversation with him, it seemed he wasn’t paying attention. Like right now.

“-and that is how Brookes ended up tied by his ankles to the Whomping Willow.” she smiled happily and laughed once again at the memory of the Slytherin dangling from the wild tree. He deserved it, no one called her bestfriend a ‘mudblood’ and got away with it.

But her smile disappeared once she saw his attention was not on her, but behind her. (Y/n) turned her head to see who was sitting a few feet away and was not surprised to see a Gryffindor girl with emerald eyes and long auburn hair, whose name was Lily Evans.

“James! James!” she waved her hand in front of his face.

The messy-haired boy was broken out of his trance “Wha- oh yeah, great job (N/n). He’s a right bloody git.”

She gave a fake smile “Yeah. Listen I’ve got to go do, uh, homework, yeah homework!”

“(Y/n), we’re in the library!” but she was already to far away to hear him. 

“Damn it!” He cursed loudly and kicked a chair, causing the librarian to shush him. He simply gathered his things and walked out the door, not bothering to make sure it shut quietly on his way out.

By the time she got back to her dorm, tears were bubbling in her eyes. And despite her attempt to hide it, Marlene McKinnon had already noticed. 

“(N/n), what’s wrong?”

If it had been any of her other friends, (Y/n) would have said it was simply allergies and headed to bed. But Marlene was the only other person in the room and the only one who had figured out about (Y/n)’s crush on James Potter.

“ I don’t get it” she whispered, the first tear leaving her eye “I mean, I know he loves her, and who wouldn’t? She’s perfect! But can he not at least pay attention to the fact I exist when she’s around? I mean, I’m telling a story about pranking a Slytherin, and he didn’t hear a single word.”

By the end of her rant, Marlene had walked over and engulfed her friend in a hug, letting her sob on her shoulders. 

“(Y/n) Lupin, I promise you are an amazing person. You may not see it, but we all do. He would be so lucky if he could just see what's sitting right in front of him. And someday, he’s going to realize it.”

“T-thanks Mar” she smiled sadly “s-sorry I stained your shirt”

“I don’t care about my shirt” Marlene laughed slightly “now let’s get you in a warm bath.”

“I’m so stupid!” James yelled as he slammed their dormitory door shut.

Sirius Black, the only other in the room, laughed “I think we figured that out a long time ago Prongs.”

“Not the time Padfoot”

“Ouch” he grabbed his chest looking mock-offended “What happened this time?”

“Well I was alone with (Y/n) in the library-”

Sirius smirked, about to say some dirty joke before he was cut off.

“Don’t you dare say anything. Anyway, she was going on and on about how she tied a Slytherin to the Whomping Willow for calling Evans a mudblood. And I just started thinking about how perfect she was, and she must have noticed I wasn’t paying attention to the story. Which, I mean, how could I when she is standing right in front of me? Then she waved in my face and I think I blushed, but she thought I was staring at Evans! So she left upset and- ugh!” James sat down to take a breath as he finished his rant.

“Woah Prongs, slow down a bit. This is not entirely bad.”

He glared at his friend “How is this possibly not entirely bad?”

“Because, if she got upset about you staring at Evans-”

“I wasn’t”

“Well if she got upset because she thought you were, then maybe she left because she got jealous. Which would mean she loves you back.”

James sighed “How would someone like her love me back? She’s perfect!”

Remus Lupin was completely oblivious to what was going on around him. He was simply reading his book, not caring that his sister was sitting in the chair next to his, studying the Marauders Map. 

It wasn't until his best friends walked in the common room and plopped down on the cushion next to his, that he looked up and put his book down.

He did this just in time to notice that his sister got off her chair and left the room without an explanation. And he looked back at his friends just in time to notice the sad, longing glance James gave in her direction, and the sympathetic look Sirius gave him at the same time.

“Wha-” but he connected the dots instantly after he was about to ask what all that was about.

“Anything you lot want to tell me?” he questioned, glaring at James while shooting accusing glances at Sirius. 

“I don’t know Mar, he just walked in, and I didn’t even notice I was walking out the door until I stepped through the doorway.”

“(Y/n) you have to face him at some point, I mean he is your bestfriend and you two still have a few pranks planned for this week.”

The girl nodded “Yeah, you’re right. I just can’t stand being there and completely in love with him knowing he doesn‘t feel the same way.”

“So let me get this straight” Remus was pacing back and forth across the common room “James is in love with my sister, so in love that he manages to convince her he’s not? Tell me where this makes any sense.”

“Well he just starts acting like an idiot when she’s around and accidently gives off the wrong signals.” Sirius explained

Remus sighed “And everyone knows about this?”

“We all have bets going to see when they’re going to get together” Sirius answered simply “Even Evans is in on it”

“Since when?” James and Remus asked simultaneously

“Third year”

“There has been a bet going for four years and I still saw none of this?” Remus seemed less angry than he had been in the previous minutes, and now was more surprised than anything else.

“Pretty much”

“Well” Remus sighed, giving up “As much as I hate the thought of James and my sister, put me down for sometime in the next three days.”

Sirius smirked “That’ll be 5 galleons my friend”

(Y/n) avoided James completely the next day, no matter how much he tried to find her. But the map was in her hands, making it much easier for her and harder for him.

On day two, they had potions together, and because the two were partners, this would effectively end (Y/n)’s streak.

James was sitting alone at their table, waiting for his partner to show up. Five minutes passed after class started and she still wasn’t there. Ten minutes. Fifteen.

It was twenty minutes into class before the door opened and a shaken (Y/n) walked over to their table. Slughorn didn’t question her, most likely because she was one of his favorite students, instead said a simple “Detention Miss Lupin” before turning around to help another student.

James only stared at her. Her (h/c) hair was in a messy bun that looked as if she had simply thrown it up there in 5 seconds. Her shirt was wrinkled and her red and gold tie was crooked. 

And she looked beautiful. 

“(Y/n)” he breathed 

“Hi James” she gave a small smile and looked at her potion book, hurrying to grab ingredients. 

After class, (Y/n) immediately hurried out the door and down the hall, ignoring James as he called after her. It wasn’t until she felt someone grab her wrist that she stopped.

“James-”

“(Y/n) why are you avoiding me?”

“I’ve been busy” she wasn’t making eye contact, instead tugging her arm a bit “can you let go now?”

“That’s bullshit. Complete fucking bullshit. Be honest, what did I do?”

“Nothing you can help”

“(Y/n) I haven’t talked to you in days, I’ve barely even seen you! I miss hanging out with you, hell, I miss you and I need to be your bestfriend again! Please tell me, what did I do?”

“You fell in love with someone else” was all she said before pulling her arm away and running off, leaving him frozen in place and unable to speak.

The third day, (Y/n) skipped all her classes, something that her brother found disappointing. 

James however, couldn’t focus on anything that was being said. He made the wrong potion, turned his book into a pig instead of a umbrella, and used the wrong spell on whatever they were studying in defense against the dark arts (what they were doing, he couldn’t even remember).

He suffered for hours until the day was finally over, and he could spend all his time trying to find (Y/n) to tell her that he was completely and utterly in love with someone and that someone was her. 

He looked around for another hour. She wasn’t in the common room, or the kitchens, or out on the quidditch pitch. Nor was she in her dormitory, the library, or even the room of requirement. 

Luckily, James knew a lot about (Y/n), some things even Remus had yet to figure out. 

So he knew that the roof was one place (Y/n) found the most relaxing. And he could sense she was up there.

So he climbed through two secret passage ways, four flights of stairs, and managed to sneak past Filch’s office before he saw the latch that opened the door to where (Y/n) was most likely sitting.

As soon as the door opened, (Y/n) turned around, jumping in surprise. When she saw who it was, a blush lightly tinted her cheeks and she looked the other way again without saying a word. 

“(Y/n)” James begged her to turn around, but as he walked over to her, her gaze out at the sunset remained. 

“James, you don’t have to be here. I know I laid a bomb on you yesterday, and I’m sorry, it just kind of came out, but you don‘t need to tell me that you don‘t feel the same way. I already know, and it’s okay.”

“How can you know if I haven’t told you that?”

His question caused (Y/n) to finally look at him, confusion swirling in her eyes “What do you mean?”

“I mean that if I haven’t said anything about not being completely in love with you, how would you if I wasn’t?”

“Because how could you? I mean, Lily is perfect, and standing next to me makes it an easy decision.”

“I don‘t fancy Evans”

Her expression showed nothing but pure shock “But-”

“No (Y/n). I don‘t, and sure she’s not bad looking, but it’s you who I see. Anyone standing next to you immediately disappears. You’re the perfect one. You’re smart, funny, gorgeous. You stand up for what’s right and somehow make even watching paint dry fun. And I love you.”

“James this isn’t funny”

He now noticed just how close they had gotten. He looked directly into her eyes “I’m not joking” and then their lips connected, and it seemed as though fireworks erupted around them.

When they walked in the common room hand in hand, (Y/n) thought Remus would be so mad, he’d transform a week early. But instead he jumped in the air and screamed “Yes! Cough up losers!”

There were many groans and the clinking of coins could be heard, along with a “How is it possible that he joined the bet three days ago and manages to win?”

[fmdrem]

date: from december 3rd to 19th, 2018 location: seoul, south korea / various ( mars’ dorms ; dimensions’ meeting & dance practice areas ; gocheok dome backstages & stage ) summary: the despair of jeon ahreum warning:  uh okay tbh there’s Some Shit going on and i did my best to tag EVERYTHING i could possibly think of so i still really suggest you to navigate with caution because ahreum’s self-destructive thoughts / warped perception of self AND the way he brings harm to himself are not bloody graphic per se,  but they can totally be something hitting close home due to how my writing has been conveying them. tl:dr: ahreum can totally be a character straight outta d*ngan r*npa. word count: 17006 words.

it all had started with a sighting of small little candles and snail shaped sugar treats on top of velvety cupcake swirls displayed at the front window of a pastry shop, the scent of cinnamon cookies, and a flinch of ghosts of birthdays past in wintry seasons greetings always bringing the loneliness of solitary years of struggle down his mouth as a reminder that he had to work harder.

no, it actually all started with the absence of reaction from one who was known to be all reactions and all flames —sitting nearby oldest member and companion while fidgeting with a shirt too big for his lithe frame and skinny legs, with many thinking he simply hadn’t had his morning coffee because it was widely known that jeon ahreum needed his cheap latte ( or anything with a dose of caffeine, truly ) in order to properly spritz life as he’s usually much more known for. it started wth himself and many others exchanging confused gazes because they were called so urgently and it was early, too early —mingi rubbing his heavily bagged eyes and his own hand clinging still onto minjae’s shirt as he wobbled in, geun and siwon looking beyond in need of another hour of sleep at least, because the melon music awards happened int even a few days ago and they weren’t still over their new schedule, finding himself barely curling a smile out and missing the chair he wanted to sit at least three times, and with not a single laugh from anyone because even he wasn’t in the mood for jokes and silliness.

it started with the executives arriving ten minutes late and looking ready to leave ten minutes earlier —as if looking at them all was almost an insult to their eyes like he was an insult to all of their efforts, a reminder to keep questions short and non controversial for the sake of brevity, jabbing at accidents that totally weren’t supposed to happen, especially on stage— talking, and talking while poor ahreum could feel his guts rot and skin getting itchy at the way the higher ups of them all kept mentioning other companies with the spite of a stereotypical villain because of how plain wrong that whole meeting felt like. 

it was supposed to be fun. it was supposed to make people happy —and he wanted people to be happy. even if it meant performing songs he didn’t like or keep himself awake with iv strings jammed on his left arm while trying to get changed so fast.

yet he would look at minjae almost as if expecting the worst to strike them all, the people pleaser, almost as if the entire routine that kept him barely there was on the verge of shattering once more. minjae would look back wth a worry that felt eons different from his own, give him a pat on the head, but it didn’t feel reassuring at all. nothing seemed to feel reassuring at all —nodding and complying and with every single word feeling like being pulled away from his mouth by a fisherman’s hook, because no matter what he didn’t seem to be able to say no, to say a syllable against the way stars aligned and strings pulled.

not even when his scheduled performance with kang junsu was announced with so much nonchalance by the executives before disappearing behind glass doors —and he was sure, so sure minjae could see the pure horror painting his own face white.

it continued with his forehead meeting the hard floor and the skin bruising blue and violet for the twenty-seventh times in the span of a week. or maybe less. days and nights always seemed to blend together like the millions of facets he’d shatter himself into in order to hide what’s ugly, because that’s what made people happy.

but he was doing something wrong. it must be certainly it. 

so he’d get up. he’d twirl and jump and fall again. he’d get up again, repeating that cycle over and over and making it part of an even bigger cycle —as if punishing himself for breaking down at home a few days prior because of how he broke down in sobs and tears after returning home from a meeting he’d rather compare to a death sentence, even if minjae and mingi and everyone consoled him within those walls —even when they’d reassure the the dying sun that was he to be free to let whatever was being bottled inside his heart even when ahreum knew so well that whatever was inside of him was rotten and ugly and completely shameful to even think about. 

it was a reason for why he’d push himself even harder, he’d chop himself into even finer pieces. just like his head kept throbbing with ache after telling minjae that yes, he was going to get the errands game going, that he was doing nothing except for dilly-dallying even if in his voice could be felt letting go of an exhale of uncertainty —pushing his hair to part so that the bangs would cover the bruises because he didn’t want to bother the makeup artists for some foundation ( it would bring questions, he didn’t want to answer ), putting a hat on alongside the best and most believable birthday boy face he could muster, sending hearts and smiley faces at whoever decided it was okay to waste a message or two to send for his birthday, because admitting that he was happy to see his friends thinking of him was selfish and he couldn’t be selfish at all, that was ugly and he was ugly and needed to stop at once if he wanted to be better and be more useful to others.

( causing problems after problems, stupid ahreum, idiotic puny thing always wasting everyone’s time )

he felt the ripple of anxiety lacerating his spine when there was people at home and his idea was just to get showered and bury himself into the studio, because he felt like the mask had grown thinner and thinner and was on the verge of breaking. or maybe it was a sign that the cycle needed to be broken and he didn’t want to, no. that meant exposing himself with all those missing pieces and pulverized sides —ugly ugly ugly ugly—, it meant disappointing and disappointment never made people feel happy, it meant failure, complete annihilation.

he’d hop from person to person with a smile on his face while inside he’d screech at them all for coming because they were supposed to do better things, things suiting their greatness and worth and not anything remotely associated with himself. he’d look at the cake on his plate and minjae sitting in front of him, give a small smile, open his mouth and letting the truth go for once in god knew how much time. 

the bruise on his forehead still throbbed.

                                         “ i don’t know if i even deserve any of this. ”

kang junsu released songs and pieces of himself were scattered in seven tracks like pieces of himself were now scattered on countless floors, and he felt exposed and disgusted to the core.

why junsu.

( it burns, like boiling water against the skin because he must be cleansed and purged or he won’t be getting any better. )

why.

( it fills the head with pain, against the wet tiles. again. again. again. to punish himself for stupid thoughts. )

why.

( it makes his heart think of himself as a touch number when he’s not. when he craved still the love of someone he was nothing but a stepping stone for. )

why.

its conclusion: gocheok dome could be filled with people to the brim or as empty and desolate as dimensions’ wallet, but jeon ahreum would still feel like he got shoved back in joseon and he was having his last walk of shame towards his last breath, covered in heavy damasks and gold shaped as a cloak to be pulled away from him with virulence and a fake halo fitting the saintly being he was not —gold lining his eyes and the guidelines for tears to follows as the way makeup artists would chirp how much he was pretty when all he wanted to do was to rip off all that gold from himself because it was always and solely meant for someone else.

always someone else, never himself.

he was selfish, ontop of a pipe organ with his whole vision being white and his own balance barely steady. he found himself abhorring. loathing every single bit of this, from the cameras ready to capture every single frame of his contorted despair, the organizations counting revenues over it all, those who were there to even more demean an art he’s given life and soul and happiness just because of his name not holding enough fame, the ceos and their sadism barely fed by money and backstabbing, whoever was the evil mastermind within the troposphere who remotely thought any of this pantomime was a good idea to begin with. hating himself so much for not wanting himself to strive for something better too  —he knew the reasons, he knew, let him throw that tantrum, it won’t resurface ever again, promise—, for having never been able to say no when he had the chance because even more so now was too late and he couldn’t pull back from that unveiling tragedy. it was the price to pay because he was a filthy coward, right? 

( no, tell me i’m wrong, i’m tired, let me out, let me out——— )

he could see junsu’s hands trembling while grasping at the side of the curtain ( do you miss me for real, he’d ask, but his mouth is sewn shut ) and he felt the urge of punching his stomach for even thinking of wanting to hold those hands into his equally trembling ones, because he lost that right three years ago and most likely junsu would be too disgusted to be touched by one like him.

people gasped in collective shock at the way the pulled curtain fell and a tear fell down his eye.

[raynebowrayne]

Halcyon addendum 2.

Finn paced across the apartment sized room he shared with the woman he loved to distraction. He had never known such happiness could exist until he'd fallen in love with Rose Tico. She was his world.

And his misery.

*I have to give him up, for Rose's sake,* he told himself as he paced nervously back and forth from the door to the untidy work table on the otherside of the room, in the corner beyond the foot of the bed.

It wasn't that he didn't love Poe every bit as much as he did Rose. He did. But Poe would never agree to being in an open relationship with him. And Finn wasn't willing to continue to hide and sneak around behind anyone's back anymore. He'd never planned to start doing so in the first place. He wanted someone to hold in the night and laugh with over dinner. Rose was all of that and more for him.

Finn understood Poe's reasoning, he truly did, but he had needs that couldn't be fulfilled by a secret lover, he wanted a life partner…

He and Rose had set the date for their wedding, in bed this morning.

It was time to end things with Poe.

A sharp double rap on the door sent his heart surging. Poe had finally arrived. Finn let him in and locked the door.

Sometime later, they lay in each other's arms for what they both knew would be the last time, cherishing every second they had left. A pounding on the door followed by Rose's muffled voice shattered the spell and sent Finn and Poe scrambling for their clothes.

Both dressed hurriedly and Finn took a calming brwath before he opened the door to his fiancé

"What happened to you?" He gaped, slightly wild-eyed and breathless.

Rose brushed past him mumbling, "A water main broke."

"Oh, hey Poe." She smiled at The Resistance general as he leaned conspicuously against the work table on the other side of the room as she crossed to the clothes locker at the foot of their bed. "I don't mean to be rude, but I need a hot shower, desperately. I'll just be a minute." She closed the lid and stood up, her eyes fixed on the rumpled bed.

Neither man had thought to drape the blanket back over the snarled sheets and it hung half on and half off of the bed in a tell-tale way that made Finn feel about an inch tall.

Rose turned to him, a question in her eyes that died swiftly when they met his. Her wide, shocked eyes turned to Poe. Finn followed her gaze and saw his beloved's olive skinned face and ears aflame, his eyes downcast, his hair touseled, his lips red and swollen. Finn swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.

Rose turned her eyes back to him and the clothes slipped out of her hand as she made a choked sound. Her eyes darting from one to the other, she headed for the door.

"No." She croaked as he pulled her to a stop and found that she was shaking like a leaf.

"Rose!" He begged, taking her by both arms, "Please, baby, let me explain."

Rose jerked one arm lose but he caught it again and held on tighter. "Rose! Please! I love you! Please don't go!"

"You love me?" She gasped incredulously, finally looking him in the eyes.

"I do, Rose. I love you with all my heart!" He sobbed, desperate for her to believe him. "I do!"

"Then tell me why you're cheating on me!" She shrieked.

"Because I love him, too!" The way she flinched ripped his guts open, he hated the pain he was causing the two people he loved and cherished above everything, including life itself. "I love you both."

He looked at Poe and swore vehemently, "I love you both." before turning his gaze back to Rose. "Things got out of hand but, I swear to you, I was breaking up with him."

Rose looked at Poe, who nodded wearily and said, "He did break up with me."

"How long have you been seeing each other?" She gasped, pinning them both with outraged stares of fiery steel.

"Since before you woke up after Crayt." Finn confessed.

Her jaw snapped shut and she glanced from Finn to Poe and back to Finn. "While I was out of it?"

"Please try to understand, I was distraught… I was inconsolable. You were out for so long, and the doctors didn't know if you'd ever wake up…" His whole body begged her to understand.

"Poe was there for me. He sat by your bed with me for hours... he was my comfort when they told us you might not make it." Finn let go of Rose, who had stopped struggling sometime ago. "Neither of us meant for anything to happen! But we fell in love."

"You've been in love with him the whole time we've been together?" She sputtered in a thin reedy voice.

"I'm so sorry I hurt you!" He was crying in earnest now, as was Poe. "But I love you both with all my heart!"

"How could you? You've been lying to me since the beginning!" She accused.

"I had to!" He said. "I love you and I can't bear to lose you!"

"You can't be in love with two people at once!" She snapped.

"I can," He insisted. "And I am." He leaned down, bringing his eyes level with hers. "You love me, right?"

"I don't even know you!" She spat, clearly hurt and angry.

"Yes, you do! You know me better than anybody!" He swore. "And you do love me." It wasn't a question this time. "You love your sister, too… just as much as you love me."

"That's different!" She insisted.

"No, it isn't! People can love more than one person with everything they've got." He insisted. "I love you, I am in love with you, and I feel the same way about him." He looked at Poe. "I really do."

Poe nodded glumly but didn't meet his eyes.

"Before I woke up…" A frown marred her features. She glanced at each of the two devistated men. "We didn't get together for a month after I woke up…" Her expression changed to one of shocked disbelief, in a dazed tone she nearly whispered, "I'm the other woman." She turned to Poe, "You must hate me."

Poe straighted up and gave her a gentle smile, "No, Rose, I don't hate you." He crossed the tiled floor to wrap his arms around her just as gently. "I could never hate you for giving him what I can't."

She pulled away. "Why can't you? This isn't some backwater hellhole, you two being gay wouldn't even have caused a sensation around here."

"I'm not gay." Poe frowned. "I've never been into guys."

"You're just in love with one?" She asked archly, her brows shooting toward her hairline.

"Yeah." He frowned. "I'm not gay, I'm just… in love with my best friend who happens to be a man."

"So…you're saying you're not gay - gay, you're Finn gay?" She asked, almost as if she was amused by the concept.

She turned to Finn. "Let me guess, you're Poe gay?"

"You're the only woman I've been with." His face darkened with a flush, all but the apples of his cheeks, which lightened and took on a pinkish tinge. "That's just how it is when you're a Stormtrooper, Phasma was the only Female trooper in the entire First Order..." he explained. "And we were forbidden to socialize outside our corps."

"And you never told me that." She said quietly but firmly.

"How could I without changing things between us?" Finn asked, his voice heavy with sadness. "These past ten months with you were too wonderful to risk losing... And the past year with him has been just as wonderful! You've both made me so happy that I walk around on clouds all day, anticipating the next time we're alone together the whole time we're apart! I absolutely worship the ground you walk on. I never even knew I could be as happy as I have been this year."

"Do you love him as much as you love me?" She asked, her voice calm.

[fangirllifu]

Sweet Like Pudding Ch. 24

Italics - thoughts

The Karasuno bunch had secured their place in the nationals, now it was time for our Tokyo teams to do the same. The Nekoma team had just arrived at the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium, although they didn't have a game till tomorrow, they still had to scope out their possible opponents in preparation.

With Kuroo taking the lead, they made their way through the halls towards the big bulletin board showing the team rosters for the day and the rest of the week. Normally the Representative Playoffs would've been held for only three days, but because of the number of teams in Tokyo it had to be extended.

Kenma had just sat on a bench near the team, when his phone suddenly started ringing. Taking his phone out of his pocket to answer, he then turned confused. Kuroo having noticed his expression, after glancing briefly at the line-ups, went up to him.

"What? Who is it?" He asked.

Kenma looked at him still confused but answered nonetheless. "Bokuto."

Kuroo became confused as well as the others who were in the vicinity. "Well~ answer it."

And answer it he did, after all, the Fukurodani Captain doesn't normally call him. He had a terrible feeling about this. And turns out his instincts were justified. He had barely even made out a greeting, before he was dashing out of the hall leaving behind his team, all because of two words.

"It's Kanna."

He almost didn't catch the location Bokuto had told him to go to, because he was too focused on speeding down the halls of the stadium. Thankfully, it was just the changing rooms for the Fukurodani team, which was just around the corner at the end of the hall he was coming into. He saw the whole team outside the door looking conflicted between being enraged—for what reason he didn't know, but he sure was about to learn—and being concerned for what he assumed to be the person behind their door.

Akaashi noticed him first, and made his way to approach Kenma before he was near the door. He wanted to put some distance to door, before being able to start the explanation as to what happened. Kenma took notice of this as he slowed down.

"We ran into them."

That was all he needed to hear as he made his way past Akaashi, and headed straight towards the door. He didn't need to hear the rest of that explanation to know who Akaashi was talking about. The Fukurodani members stepped away as he neared the door, a nod from Bokuto and he also stepped back along with his members. Kenma felt slightly relieved to know that Bokuto trusted him enough to allow and ask for his help with this. But he was undoubtedly unsure of how much help he'll be able to give. He didn't even realize that the rest of his team followed after him, until he heard Yaku's voice.

"What happened?!"

He didn't need to look, as he knew that Akaashi would explain it to them. And it looks like Akaashi wasn't the only one, as he felt majority of the people behind him move towards the group. After the explanation they all quieted down and just stood there in the halls watching and waiting.

Kenma could feel just one person behind him. He figured it was most probably Bokuto, and he was thankful for the silent support. Knowing that the others had his back in case something goes wrong he took a deep breath and lifted his hand up to knock at the door.

When he didn't hear anything from behind the door, he tried again. "Kanna?"

"It's me….."

"Would you mind opening the door for me...Please?" Kenma glanced at the others as silence enveloped the group, but not a moment later a sound was heard, making them all jump.

Bokuto made a move towards the door, but decided against it in the last second. Instead he made his way beside the door to a blind spot, so that when Kanna opens the door, she'd see that Kenma was the only one there.

After a few minutes, they all heard the twist of the door knob and the slow squeak of the opening door. But Kenma was the only one who saw the face behind the small gap within it. When she had confirmed it was Kenma, she moved back into the room and left the door open for him. Kenma looked to the others and lastly to Bokuto, whom he received an encouraging nod from, he then made his way inside through the door. Bokuto may not have said it out directly, but his eyes told Kenma all he needed to know, and he was not one to disappoint.

As he closed the door behind him, he looked at the girl hunched on the floor in the corner of the room. He wordlessly made his way towards her, and sat right beside her. They sat in silence for a few minutes, before Kenma released a sigh.

"Kanna?..."

Kanna lifted her head to regard the other when he didn't continue speaking like she expected him to, only to be stunned. There was Kenma, body turned towards her with his arms wide open in an inviting gesture, as his head was turned to the side in an attempt to hide his visibly flushed face. He kept on glancing towards her every now and then as the seconds ticked by.

Kanna, all of a sudden was overwhelmed by so much emotion at the simple gesture, that she surged forward and flung herself in Kenma's arms. Kenma had to quickly orient himself to keep the both of them from falling, but he tightened his arms around her and brought her closer to him. They repositioned themselves to a more comfortable position, and she sunk in to the warmth of his body as he cradled her in his lap. Kenma caressed her back as her body shook with sobs, resounding loudly in the silence of the room.

After a while, her sobs died down and her breathing slowed. Kenma adjusted his hold on her to check, that his suspicions were in fact correct. She fell asleep.

He frowned as he studied her face. Crying really didn't suit her. He's beginning to hate the sight of tears on her face, especially if he's powerless to do anything about it at the moment.

"I hope you'll finally be able to move on after all this. But for now, I'll do what I can."

With that Kenma carefully stands up, and walks out of the room to the rest of the guys.

Bokuto perked up at the sound of the door opening, and all of them simultaneously turned towards it to see Kenma with a peacefully sleeping Kanna in his arms. They crowded around the two, and their hearts clenched at the sight of the tear-stricken girl and her puffy eyelids.

"Kenma... How is….." Kuroo hesitates with a conflicted look on his face, mirrored by every single person present.

"She fell asleep after crying too much. She'll be fine." He answered as he gently handed Kanna over to Bokuto.

Bokuto gazed down worriedly at his cousin, but nods in gratitude towards the male. Kenma returned the nod, before turning to regard the others with a serious face.

"Do you know the name of their team?" Kenma asked them, knowing for sure one of them saw the name of the team while the whole fiasco was happening.

He might not have gotten an explanation as to what happened, but he didn't need to. He already had an inkling as to what happened. Kanna had mentioned it once in passing, that although she wasn't sure if all of them continued playing or not, graduated members of her team usually ended up going to the same high school. Though from what Kuroo is currently whispering to him, it's obvious one of them decided a change in career, but still chose to stick around.

"Yeah, we already re-checked the line-ups." Kai answers.

"We're playing against them in the next bracket if they win their game." Yaku adds, slowly growing alarmed at the sudden change in Kenma.

"Then let's pray they do. I sure do want to play with them." Kenma said with a dark glint in his eyes.

"Sadistic Kenma came out."

They all shivered in fright at the look in his eyes and the aura he was emitting. They were glad it wasn't directed at them. They made sure to note and remember, to never bring about the wrath of the usually calm and collected setter.

They decided that it'd be best if they send Kanna back to their accommodations first, before they would join the Nekoma team to assess the pompous team, seeing as both teams didn't have a match till tomorrow afternoon. With that, both teams left Kanna to Koutarou, Shirofuku and Coach Yamiji. Meanwhile, the rest headed to the court—where the wretched team would be playing in—and to find seats to better observe their movements.

They sat in their seats where they were far enough so that the players wouldn't be able to identify them, but still provided themselves with a perfect view of the whole court. The trio arrived just as the match was starting.

"Oy Bokuto! Is that her?" Kuroo exclaimed as soon as the said male was close enough, gesturing down to the person in question.

Bokuto turned towards the direction as he sat down. He squinted his eyes as he took in the girl Kuroo was pointing at. "Hn. Yeah, that's her." He said with a deep frown marring his usually cheerful face.

He leaned forward in his seat and tightly clasped his hands in front of his face, as he spoke. "If I remember correctly, that was the senior I caught spouting horrible things about Kanna, that one time. I was really angry then—and still am—because she said something about how Kanna should know her place, and not drag the team down. That she was better than her, because she actually knows how to play. And is not an embarrassment to her brother, who's the Captain of the boys volleyball club, unlike Kanna."

The guys, as one, clenched their jaws at his words, and the image it painted in their minds.

Bokuto's vision clouded as he continued, voice filled with barely suppressed rage. "She was pushing her and yelling about how, that was probably why I never attended her matches. Because I was embarrassed to be seen/known as someone related to her."

Every single one of the guys, listening carefully, snapped their heads in Bokuto's direction, wide-eyed in disbelief of what he'd just said. They all vibrated with promised fury as they turned back towards the court.

"Let's focus first on the task at hand, and plan accordingly. Shall we?" Kenma, surprisingly, cut into the tension with his calm words.

"Right." They all nodded in understanding and relaxed in their seats.

As time went by and the game progressed, Kuroo could feel a gradually increasing overwhelming pressure beside him. He turned his head, only to sweat drop at the aura surrounding his friend, while the others shivered.

"He's raring to go. Hehehe…."

Kuroo simply turned his head back to focus on the game, and tried his hardest to pretend that he couldn't feel the creeping danger beside him. He noticed, with some form of morbid satisfaction, as the team bellow shuddered for a reason unknown to them. He knew he didn't just imagine it, because the rest of the guys surrounding him, either smirked or snickered loudly in response.

The match wasn't much to watch for the boys. It was well, just too plain. Maybe because they've been hanging around Karasuno too much, that normal plays just end up being boring to them.

Despite the nature of the game, Kenma kept his focus and loaded up on all the weaknesses he found, which were a lot. The team had decent fire power, but he was sure Kuroo could easily block those hits. And just like that, the match ended.

"Ohoho~ Would you look at that Kenma~ Our prey was oh~ so~ gracious enough to hand themselves over to us on a silver platter." Kuroo remarks with a mischievous smirk as he stands up, the guys following after him seeing as they had no more purpose to stay any further.

"We'll be sure to enjoy the meal then." Kenma says looking down at the court with a look that promises hell for whoever was on the receiving end.

The rest of the guys smirked dangerously at the celebrating team below. Looking like a bunch of predators ready to devour their prey. They sure can't wait for tomorrow to come sooner.

"Itadakimasu~"

Notes:

I know, I'm sorry. I just gave you a fluff filled chapter, and now I'm delivering you something heavy. Ahh!!! Let's all cry in rage together for the injustice the baby owl has received! And rejoice in cruel glee at what Sadistic/Dark Kenma has planned for them all!

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Chapter List

[avrilsky]

52, 56, 72, 90 maybe ? I don't know

Thank you so much for this! Sorry it took so long to get done.

Shout out to @hellsdemonictrinity​ for creating the prompt list. Which you can find here and feel free to send me more!

Lightning cracked across the sky, followed by thunder so loud it shook the sliding glass doors Nicole was standing in front of.

She stared out into the night sky watching another bolt of lightning light up the sky, illuminating the dark clouds stretching out as far as she could see. Fat rain drops hit the glass with soft thuds blurring her view slightly.

It was nasty out and for once Nicole was glad she wasn’t on patrol, that Nedley had given her the night off after a miserable shift the day before.

She glanced down to the phone in her hand, hoping for a call or text from Waverly. She hadn’t seen or talked to Waverly since Willa interrupted them earlier that day and she just left.

She hated herself for just leaving Waverly alone with the eldest Earp. There was something about Willa Earp that raised every one of her red flags and she wasn’t entirely sure why.

Maybe it was because Willa was kind of a dickhead. Or maybe it was the way Willa talked to her, talked to Waverly as if they were beneath her.

She should probably give Willa a little leeway after everything she had been through and she would if it was only her that Willa mistreated but she couldn’t stand someone treating Waverly that way.

She wanted to say something to Willa, stand up for Waverly, defend her but she wasn’t sure if it was her place. She wasn’t sure how Waverly would react.

She didn’t want to overstep, didn’t want Waverly to think she thought Waverly couldn’t take care of herself, couldn’t stand up for herself.

The last thing she wanted to do was upset Waverly after everything Waverly had been through in the past few days. She didn’t want to be another thing Waverly had to worry about, had to stress about.

Things were still so new between them but she wanted to be the person Waverly could come to with anything. She wanted to be Waverly’s safe space. She wanted to be Waverly’s person because whether Waverly knew it or not, she was already Nicole’s person.

Nicole leaned her forehead against the cool glass doors and sighed. It was time to change Waverly’s bandage and honestly, Nicole didn’t trust Willa enough to do it properly, to do it with care and without some hateful comment.

She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes and breathed deeply before reaching for her beer on the side table that sat beside the glass door. She downed the rest of the beer and stared at her phone, wondering if she should call Waverly or wait until Waverly reached out to her.

Her decision was made for her when a loud knock on her front door startled her from her thoughts.

With one last look at her phone she tossed it onto her worn, old couch and headed for the door, stepping over her cat sleeping in the middle of the floor, curled up on a small quilted blanket that used to lay at the foot of Nicole’s bed.

She threw her beer bottle in the trash can as she passed the kitchen and headed for the front door.

Looking through the peephole, she saw Waverly standing on the other side of the door, clothes drenched and clinging to her body. Her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she stared down at her shoes, shaking.

Worry swelled in Nicole’s chest as she wrenched the door open. If Waverly had driven all this way in the storm something had to be wrong.

“Waves,” she said softly, reaching out to touch Waverly’s shoulder gently, who was still staring at the floor, having not noticed Nicole opening the door, too lost in her own thoughts.

Which did nothing to ease Nicole’s worry.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, bending down to catch Waverly’s eyes. Eyes that were filled to the brim with tears.

Nicole pulled Waverly inside as gently as she could, shutting the door behind them and wrapped her arms around the younger woman, holding her to her chest. Not caring that the t-shirt and sweatpants she was wearing were getting wet.

“Baby, what’s going on? What happened?” She asked, running her fingers through wet tangled hair. “Are you okay?”

Waverly didn’t say anything for a few moments, just allowed Nicole to hold her while she shook in Nicole’s arms.

Nicole felt helpless. Unsure of what to do, how to help Waverly. So she just held her, mumbling soft reassurances against her hair and hoped that it was enough.

When Waverly finally pulled away, she wiped at her eyes and gave Nicole that fake smile she wore while working at Shorty’s. “Everything is fine.”

It was a lie. A flat out lie but Nicole didn’t call her out on it, knowing that Waverly would tell her when she was ready.

Instead Nicole helped Waverly out of her jacket and took her hand, leading her further into the apartment and towards the bathroom, tossing the dripping jacket onto a chair in the kitchen as they passed by.

“You’re gonna catch a cold if you don’t get dry and warm,” Nicole said when they entered the bathroom. “I’ll get you some dry clothes, take your time.”

Nicole kissed Waverly’s forehead and moved to leave the bathroom but was stopped with a hand on her wrist, pulling her back to Waverly.

Waverly dropped her wrist and stared up at her. Her cold, trembling fingers coming up and caressing Nicole’s cheek.

“Thank you,” Waverly whispered, leaning up on her tippy toes and pressing a gentle kiss to Nicole’s lips.

“Anytime Waves.”

Nicole kissed her once more before leaving the bathroom, and closing the door behind her. She moved to her bedroom, stripping of her damped clothes and changing into some basketball shorts and an old academy t-shirt.

She searched through her dresser for her comfiest pair of sweats and her softest t-shirt for Waverly to wear. She grabbed a pair of fuzzy socks her mom had gotten her before her big move to Canada and walked across the hall to the bathroom.

She knocked lightly on the bathroom door and waited for Waverly to answer before opening the door and placing the clothes on the sink, doing her best to keep her eyes from drifting towards the shower.

“I’ll just be in the other room if you need anything.”

Waverly thanked her again but this time the words come out with a sob and Nicole has to force herself out of the bathroom to keep from going to Waverly in that moment.

She hated seeing Waverly so upset, hearing her sound so broken and not being able to do anything about it, not being able to make it better.

Nicole forced herself into action and pushing off the bathroom door, heading into the living room and grabbing the throw blanket from the back of the couch.

She headed to the laundry room off to the side of her small kitchen and threw the blanket into the dryer, set the timer for ten minutes and went back into the kitchen to make Waverly some hot chocolate.

She may not be able to fix whatever was hurting Waverly, she may not be able to make it better but she damn sure could make sure Waverly was warm and cared for.

By the time Waverly finished in the shower, Nicole had a steaming cup of hot chocolate sitting on the coffee table, along with everything she needed to redress the wound on Waverly’s side.

She watched silently as Waverly enter the living room, using a towel to dry her hair. The clothes Nicole had given her a size too big. She had to roll the pants up to keep from tripping over them.

Nicole’s eyes were drawn to Wavery’s, which were puffy and red causing Nicole’s heart to ache for her.

Waverly moved slowly across the living room as if on autopilot and plopped down next to Nicole, not saying anything as she stared straight ahead at the dark tv hanging on the wall.

“Feel better?” Nicole asked softly, resting her hand on Waverly’s knee. “Warmer?”

“Yeah.” Waverly nodded and pointed to the mug on the coffee table. “Is that for me?”

“Yes,” Nicole answered, picking the mug up and handing it to Waverly before taking the towel from her and taking it to the laundry room, grabbing the blanket from the dryer while she was in there.

When she came back into the room, Nicole kneeled in front of Waverly and draped the warm blanket over her shoulders, rubbing her hands up and down Waverly’s arms. “How’s that?”

“Better,” Waverly mumbled taking a sip of the hot chocolate, giving a slight grimace. “Is that whiskey?”

Nicole nodded. “I figured you could use it.”

It was an old family recipe that Nicole had only made a few times. It was usually saved for Christmas Eve but after everything Waverly had been through in the past week, she figured Waverly could use the comfort of whiskey and chocolate.

“It’s good. Thank you.”

“Anything for you, baby.” Nicole smiled at her, waving a hand at the first aid supplies on the coffee table. “Can I redress your side?”

“You don’t have to,” Waverly said, holding the mug tightly in both hands as if she’s trying to draw the heat from it. “I can do it besides, it’s starting to scab up.”

“I know but, I want to.” Nicole reassured her, rubbing circles against Waverly’s arm with her thumb. “If you’ll let me.”

“You can.”

Waverly sat her mug down on the table then lifted her borrowed t-shirt up on one side, just enough to expose the ugly graze marring Waverly’s tan skin just below the swell of her breast.

Usually the sight of so much of Waverly’s smooth skin would have her heart beating wildly in her chest and heat settling in her lower abdomen and have her yearning to explore, to touch, to kiss every inch available to her but now, her only focus was on the red, raw wound that seemed to be staring back at her.

Much to Nicole’s relief the wound was no longer bleeding, it wasn’t swollen and upon tracing the skin around it as gently as possible it wasn’t hot. Nicole breathed out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t infected.

Nicole could still feel the paralyzing fear she felt when she first got the call about the shooting at the Earp homestead. The whole ride out to the homestead with Nedley, Nicole felt like she couldn’t breath, not until she could see for herself that Waverly was okay. The drive felt like the longest thirty minutes of Nicole’s life.

But no matter she had been feeling in those moments, she couldn’t image what Waverly had been feeling, how scared she must have been.

“I’m really happy you’re okay,” Nicole breathed, dabbing the wound with a cotton ball that had rubbing alcohol on it and blowing lightly on it when Waverly winced.

Nicole placed a large white gauze over the wound and reached blindly behind her for the medical tape she already had cut off and had ready. Once the gauze was in place and taped, Nicole leaned forward a press a kiss to it before lowering Waverly’s shirt back down.

“Thank you, Nicole,” Waverly said softly, pulling the blanket tighter around her then picked up her hot chocolate while Nicole grabbed the hairbrush off the table and sat on the couch next to Waverly.

“You don’t have to thank me, Waves. I like being able to take care of you.”

“I can’t remember the last time someone took care of me,” Waverly mumbled and Nicole could hear the sadness in her voice, the loneliness and it broke her heart.

“Well, you have me now and I’ll take care of you for as long as you’ll have me.”

Waverly twisted to face her, nothing but affection shining in her hazel eyes, tracing Nicole’s jawline with a single finger.”You’re too good to me.”

“I just care about you.”

“Sometimes it seems like you’re the only one,” Waverly said quietly, looking down into her mug.

Nicole wet her lips, dropping the hairbrush beside her and setting Waverly’s mug back on the coffee table. She moved closer to her and wrapped her arms around her.

If the loneliness and sadness in Waverly’s voice broke her heart before then the sorrow, the misery in her voice now was soul crushing.

Waverly leaned into her embrace and her breathing pick up as if she was trying not to cry.

“You don’t have to act like you’re okay, not with me,” Nicole whispered, moving back so she was leaning against the arm of the couch and pulling Waverly with her, so they were both fully on the couch and Waverly was sitting between her legs and was able to lay against her chest.

“You’re safe here, Waverly. It’s okay to cry, I got you.”

Waverly pressed her face against Nicole’s chest and she could feel the tears soaking through her shirt.

She rubbed her hands up and down Waverly’s back under the blanket, mumbling sweet nothings and reassuring words as Waverly cried, her body shaking with the heart wrenching sobs.

“I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.”

After a while Waverly’s tears stopped but her body still trembled again Nicole’s, her breathing was still ragged.

“I feel like I’m six years old again, trying everything in my power to be included in the things Willa and Wynonna do. Trying everything in my power to be noticed, to not feel like an outsider in my own home.”

The words are muffled, spoken against her chest and if there had been anything other than the sound of the storm raging outside, Nicole wouldn’t have heard her.

“I overheard Willa and Wynonna in the barn before the homestead was attacked and Willa pretends like I don’t exist, like Wynonna has been alone all this time.”

“I’m sure Wynonna doesn’t feel that way. She knows that you’re the only one that trusts her, believes in her, loves her despite her leaving.”

If there was one thing Nicole learned from her night of drinking with Wynonna, it was that Wynonna loved Waverly more than anything and would do anything to protect her, to keep her safe.

“They used to be thick as thieves growing up. They did everything together and more often than not I was left alone, ignored by them and Daddy.”

Nicole held her tighter, pressing light kisses into her still damp hair.

She wouldn’t say anything else, not yet. She’d offer her silent support and allowing Waverly to get it all out in the open, get it all off her chest.

“You would think being ignored was the worst part but some days I preferred it because if Willa wasn’t ignoring me then she was being cruel and not in the typical big sister way.”

Waverly got quiet again and she picked at the hem of Nicole’s shirt but Nicole didn’t push her to keep going. She let her take her time.

“When I was four, Willa blackmailed me into walking across a support beam in the barn just because I went through one of Daddy’s drawers. Then there was the time when I was five or six and she threw Mister Rabbit, my favorite stuffed animal, out on the frozen lake, knowing how thin the ice was and that I would probably fall through.”

Whatever disdain Nicole felt towards Willa quickly turned to hatred. As an older sister it was Willa’s job to protect Waverly, not nearly get her killed. And why the hell hadn’t Wynonna done anything? Why didn’t Wynonna protect Waverly.

“She hated me, hates me and I don’t even know why.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Nicole asked, her hands stilling on Waverly’s back. “I would have never left you alone with her if I had known.”

Waverly tensed against her before pulling back enough to look at her, a silent rage burning in her hazel eyes and Nicole knew she said the wrong thing.

“Why so you could have protected me? I’m not a child, I don’t need you to protect me, I don’t need anyone to protect me,” Waverly snapped then her shoulders slumped in defeat and the rage in her eyes died down. “I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve that.”

Nicole removed her hands from Waverly’s back and held Waverly’s face in her hands.

“I know you don’t need me or anyone else to protect you. I know you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, Waverly Earp but I care about you so damn much and if need be I will protect you to my last breath.”

“Don’t,” Waverly whispered, her eyes filling with tears again as her hands covered Nicole’s. “Please, don’t give your life for mine. I don’t want to live in a world without you in it, Nicole.”

Waverly coaxed her into a gentle kiss then pressed their foreheads together. “I really, really like you.”

Nicole grinned, unable to help herself she kissed Waverly again. “I really, really like you too, Waverly and you will always have a home here, you will always been wanted and seen here.”

“Thank you,” Waverly whispered against her lips. “For being here, being you. For giving me somewhere I know I belong.”

“Anytime, baby,” Nicole picked the hair brush up from the floor, where it fell when they changed positions. “Turn around, I’ll brush your hair out.”

Waverly shifted until she was facing the sliding glass doors, watching the rain beat down against the glass. “Will you braid it for me too?”

Nicole kissed the side of Waverly’s neck, smiling against her skin when Waverly sighed softly. “Whatever you want, Waves.”

[geekyzelda]

Cancer

((This was intended to be a small poem thing and it grew into this. Sorry. Until next time, GeekyZelda))

If you say Goodbye today, I'll ask you to be true. 'Cause the hardest part of this is leaving you.

The morning they received the news from the healer Silas and Sarah couldn’t leave the bed. Tears from both pooled on the pillow as he ran his hands through her hair and she clung to him like a boat in a storm. They lay between the sheets until the sun set, neither sleeping, simply appreciating the other’s presence. No plans were discussed that night, no thoughts of the future. Just their last lingering shred of hope as it was blown out the open window.

The next day, they called a family meeting.

“All Heap children in attendance, please. We have something to tell you.”

The formality of the letter spooked them all.

Simon and Lucy rushed straight to the family homestead first thing that morning. Sam and Marwick traveled through the queen’s way as soon as possible. Edd postponed a date with a cute ordinary wizard. Erik paused in the middle of a three day spell. JoJo left the sanctuary of the Grotto. Nicko sailed straight home from the Port. Jenna cancelled three meetings with foreign dignitaries. Septimus took the first day off of his career.

That afternoon, no later than 2 pm, all Heaps and associated spouses were crammed into the room behind the big red door. The feeling of safety and comfort that usually permeated the space was overshadowed by an ever increasing anxiety. Sarah sat at the head of the table. Silas served a pot of tea and stood behind his wife, his hands on her shoulders. Everyone held their breath as she loosed her news.

“I’m dying kids.”

Time stood still. The noise of the moat vanished outside. The untouched tea on the table grew cold.

William broke the silence. “Grandma, what do you mean?”

And the tears began.

Together, the family cried as the news sunk in and took hold.

“Oh Mum!” “Of all the people.” “How long have you known?” “Too little time.” “There must be something we can do.” “Incurable disease, the healer said.” “How long do you have?” “Six months.” “I love you all so very much.”

Someone mentioned dinner. No one felt like eating.

The family sat together as they scrambled to formulate a plan on how to handle the coming months.

But there is no way to prepare yourself for the death of your mother.

Eventually, the kids left the room behind the big red door feeling like wet noodles. Heavily drained and one big wobbly mess.

Everyone had different ways of dealing with the announcement.

Septimus scared Tod, and most of the Wizard Tower, half to death by blasting a wall with magyk. He glared at the burn left next to Alther’s frying pan clock before Septimus fell to his knees and broke down crying. Tod wrapped her mentor in a hug as he bawled. “I feel like I’m ten again. I’ve only just found her and now I’m going to lose her.”

Edd got home and laid on the floor of his room in the Wizard Tower. He didn’t realize time was passing until someone knocked on the door. Edd ignored it. They knocked again and kept a continuous strain until the man some how pulled himself off the floor, stumbled to the door, and ripped it open. Outside was the ordinary wizard he was supposed to go out with. She smiled sheepishly and held out a glass dish wrapped in plastic. “The tower is buzzing with the news that the Extra Ordinary Wizard’s mother is sick and, well, I thought you could use some company.” Edd stared blankly at her. ”So, is that a no?” “Ah! No, please, come in.”

Erik went for a long walk in the forest. He left the Castle as soon as the bridge was down in the morning with no food and no plans of returning until sunset. He wondered all day long. It was little short of a miracle nothing attacked the man. Absorbed in thought, before he knew it, Erik was lost in a deep, unfamiliar part of the woods. He was beginning to worry about finding his way home when a rough voice sounded behind him. “I was beginning to believe none of my grandchildren would visit me again.”

Two nights after the announcement, Rupert Gringe found Nicko laying in the bottom of a boat they were patching in the yard. Rupert recognized the bottle of whiskey at Nicko’s side as one of the finest the Port could afford to import. It was worth a pretty penny and how Nicko got his hands on a bottle was beyond Rupert. Now, there was little more than a shot’s worth in the bottom. Rupert leaned on the boat. “Where’s Snorri?” Nicko shrugged. “‘Sleep I ‘ssume.” Rupert shook his head at the man’s slurred speech and climbed in with his friend. “Any whiskey left for me?” Nicko took one last swig, draining the bottle. “No.” “... Whatcha staring at?” “Andromada. Cassiopeia isn’t out for another month.” “That’s a morbid constellation, Nik.” “‘It’s morbid times.” Nicko was quiet for a moment before, “I’m gonna miss her so much.” “Yeah.”

Simon accidentally exploded a vial while at work. Marcellus swept it up, claiming it was nothing while side eyeing his apprentice the whole time. When it happened a second time Marcellus pulled Simon away from the work bench and told him to go home. “You need to be with family.” “There has to be a cure. There has to!” “Simon, there wasn’t one five hundred years ago. If they haven’t found some treatment by now, I don’t know if they ever will.” “Then I’ll just have to be the one to find it.”

JoJo accidentally knocked over two fully stocked shelves at the Grotto. When his co-workers came to investigate, they found JoJo picking glass out of his palm. “I dropped the Ghost Friend in a Jar.” “All three hundred of them?” “Yep.” “... JoJo, do you want a drink?” They still don’t know if the glass embedded in his hand was accidental.

Sam dragged a chair outside onto the deck of the Keeper’s Cottage and watched the sun set. He only moved when Marwick dragged him inside for bed at night. Marwick woke the next morning to find the bed empty and Sam back in the chair. On the fifth day of this, Marwick went out to see Sam wrapped in an old knitted blanket. “Sarah make that for you?” “Yes, ages ago.” “She’s a good person. A great Mum.” “The best. She doesn’t deserve this, Mar. Not one bit.” Sam rested his head on Marwick’s shoulder and watched the sun rise, just like his Mum always had.

Jenna’s feet carried her straight to the manuscriptorium. Perhaps the scribes thought it unnerving when the Queen burst into the main room and strode straight to the Hermatic Chamber with tears in her eyes. Perhaps the scribes were confused when the Chief walked out a few minutes later and demanded they all take the rest of the day off. However, years of living in a place as wild as the Castle had hardened their curiosity, besides you never say no to the boss. A few of the older scribes who were close to Beetle expressed concern but were waved off with little explanation. Once the manuscriptorium was empty, the front door locked, and the ‘Closed for emergency’ sign flipped, Beetle led Jenna to his apartment above. There she explained everything, wrapped in his arms, cuddling on the couch. “I can’t do this. I can’t just watch her die. I have to do something.”

A week later, Jenna called her brother’s and sister in law to the Palace. The siblings gathered in a side room, looking more disheveled than they ever had in their lives. Sep forwent his signature robes and opted for a simpler purple tunic and leg wraps under his belt and Ankh amulet. Simon hadn’t shaved and his beard was longer than ever. Nicko smelt like booze. JoJo smelt like smoking greens. Sam’s usually immaculate clothing was rumpled and worn. Edd had his shirt on backwards and wore mismatched boots. Erik was so sleep deprived he could barely stand straight.

All eight siblings looked dead on their feet and hurt in the heart.

Jenna stood from her couch staring at her brothers, Marwick, Beetle, and Lucy. She tried to put on a strong face as she said, “I called you all here today to-” Jenna stopped to take a deep breath and Beetle put a hand on her back. “Discuss our circumstances.”

“Geeze, Jen. Your job sure has made you rigid,” JoJo commented.

Jenna tried to glare at him and failed. He was right. Here she was among family. Jenna sat, dropped her queenly air, and ignored the ugly feeling as her face scrunched and she sobbed.

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know and it’s killing me.”

“Tell me about it,” Septimus muttered. Simon sighed and nodded at the same time.

The other Heap boys eyed each other. It was rare to see the most headstrong of the siblings acting so forlorn.

“We have to be there for her,” Sam said quietly. He made eye contact with each sibling as he spoke. “We visit her. We help her with the medication. We all go to weekly dinner. We are going to make these the happiest 6 months she’s had.”

“Yeah,” Edd said. “We hang out with her. We read to her. We bring her food.”

“We can’t forget Dad,” JoJo pointed out in an undertone. “We have to be there for him too.”

“I’ll take him fishing,” Sam said.

“I could show him some new spells,” Septimus suggested.

“I’ll go walking with him in the forest,” Erik said.

“We are going to be there for our parents,” Simon said. “They did everything for us. Sacrificed so much for us. It’s time we repay the favor.”

“I just wish it wasn’t so soon.”

Everyone was quiet before Jenna suddenly burst out laughing.

“Do, do you guys remember the fried fish incident?”

Grins spread across faces as memory sparked.

“The what?” Lucy asked looking at Jenna.

“Oh no,” Simon muttered. Lucy gave him a funny look.

The younger girl gave a loud laugh as she sputtered out, “Mum and Dad went out on a date, I think Simon was fourteen at the time. Anyway, they left him in charge of feeding us and he was trying to fry fish but-” Jenna broke off, unable to continue she was laughing so hard, sending Nicko and the twins chuckling.

Simon rolled his eyes and said, “The grease in the pan caught fire and I was so shocked I screamed.”

“Like a little kid,” JoJo interjected with a mischievous grin.

“The neighbor came running,” Simon continued. “She put the fire out but she forbade me from the stove for the rest of the night. When our parents came home, Mum was inspecting the charred fish when Maxie used her lap as a stepping stone to jump on the table and he ate the fish. Gobbled it right up.” Jenna was laughing so hard she had stopped making noise and the rest of the boys chuckled.

“Oh, oh!” Sam cried. He pointed at the twins and practically yelled out of excitement, “Do you two remember when you put a fake poo in Mum and Dad’s bed?”

Erik grinned wide. “And she refused to sleep in the bed for a week? Yes.”

“She had us washing the laundry for a month after that. Until I ‘accidentally’ added the wrong soap,” Edd laughed.

“I knew that was intentional! You ruined my favorite socks!” Nicko said.

“Or, when Sep first experienced Mum’s old switcheroo,” Simon grinned at his youngest brother.

“Oh, no, don’t,” Sep protested, although the smile on his face said otherwise.

“Aw, come on little bro!” Nicko clapped Sep on the back. “Mum had that tunic off you, wiped down, and hanging out the window in ten seconds flat.”

“We’ve all experienced it, even Dad,” JoJo sighed and the boys shuddered.

“Not me!” Jenna said proudly. “I never spilt on myself.”

“Maybe not, but do you remember when Mum accidentally started the rumor that you were dating Joe Mali?” Sam asked.

“Oh, don’t even bring it up.”

“No, I want to hear this one,” Beetle grinned at Jenna and the girl shook her head. Sam was more than happy to oblige.

“Jen used to have the biggest crush on Joe.”

“I was six years old!”

“You couldn’t talk to her without her bringing him up. Joe wore green today. Joe cut his hair! Joe this and Joe that.”

“I am going to throw a pillow at you!”

“How very diplomatic of you.”

“Shut it, Nicko.”

“Mum never let her live it down. I think she still keeps tabs on the boy, no offense, Beetle.”

“None taken.”

“I don’t know why you’re poking fun at her love life, Sam,” Simon stated. “Do you remember when you came out to us?”

Sam shook his head. “I was so stupidly nervous.”

“And all Mum had to say was-”

“‘Took you long enough to realize!’”

“And she went right back to cooking!” Sam yelled sending another round of laughter through the siblings.

“I remember the first time Dad took me fishing,” Septimus started.

“Uhg, what a disaster,” Nicko groaned.

“I never asked, what happened?” Jenna said.

“I fell in the river,” Septimus said.

“No, no, no,” Nicko interrupted. “He’s simplifying it.”

“Nicko-”

“Nuh huh, they are hearing this. Sep was sitting there on the rock, his pole in the river, book in the other hand, like you used to do, Sam.”

“Hey, we are related!”

“Sep felt a tug on the line and called Dad and I over. He reeled it in and, I shit you not, Septimus caught a 50 centimeter river bass. His first time fishing and this kid catches a gigantic fish without even trying.”

“Where’d it go?”

“Just wait,” Sep said and he buried his head in his hands.

“I’m getting there. Dad tried to help him take the hook out of the fish but Sep insisted on doing it himself. He pulled the hook out when the fish jumped. It whacked him across the face so hard he rolled off the rock and fell straight into the water!” Everyone burst out laughing and Septimus smiled from under his fingers.

“When we went home, I was soaked to the bone. Mum asked if I had tried to catch the fish with my mouth,” Septimus laughed.

The giggles faded and the room was quiet.

Almost to himself, Septimus muttered, “I couldn’t have asked for a better family.”

“Aw, little bro! Was that a confession of love?”

“He really does care about us!” Edd and Erik teased.

“Shut up you two, of course I love you idiots,” Septimus flicked in their direction.

“Hey! No magyk in the house,” Jenna cried.

“Now you really sound like Mum, Jen!” JoJo said. Jenna stuck her tongue out at him. “Ah! There’s my sister back.”

“When was the last time we all just, hung out?” Sam asked, half laughing.

The group was quiet as they thought about it.

“The last time we were all together,” Simon began slowly. “Was in the Tower infirmary after you were hurt in the ancient ways five years ago, Sam.”

Sam frowned and the mood in the room dropped.

“We really need to lean to pick better times to get together,” Nicko half-joked earning a few chuckles.

The siblings reminisced into the night, laughing and teasing and poking fun at each other in a way they never truly had. Once in awhile, the weight of their situation would bring itself down upon someone’s shoulders, but the constant laughter banished it away. There would be time for tears and time to hurt. For tonight, the Heap kids just wanted to be happy.

However, like time, happiness is fleeting.

The night Sarah died, she was alone with Silas. The day was a Sunday and the whole family had met for family dinner. There were smiles on faces as eyes avoided acknowledging how fragile Sarah had come to look. Her disease had not been kind and her body was giving up. After a pleasant dinner with a side of concern and a hidden helping of unease, the children left their parents with plenty of time to prepare for bed.

Sometime in the night, Sarah shifted which woke Silas from his restless sleep.

“Do you need something?” Silas asked. His eyes raked his wife’s face, looking for a sign of something wrong. Sarah shook her head and he relaxed a bit.

“Silas.”

“Yes?”

“I want you to know, I wouldn’t change a thing about this life we’ve made together.”

Her voice sounded weak to Silas’s ears.

“Sarah...”

“Will you do one last thing for me?”

“Anything, love. Anything.”

Sarah’s eyes searched his face as she said, “Miss me.”

Silas’s voice cracked when he finally found it. “Of course. Every day, for as long as I live.”

He hugged her close and kissed her head. Sarah held on to the front of his night shirt and took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of the man she had given her all to. Of the first and only man she had ever doubtlessly loved.

“The hardest part of all of this… Is leaving you.”

“I love you, Sarah. With all my heart.”

“I love you, Silas. With everything I have and more.”

Silas didn’t sleep that night.

He didn’t move when her breath left her in one final gasp and her fingers released his shirt. He held her body in his arms as he watched the sun rise with tears in his eyes and his heart broken cleanly in half.