#thanks for the ask!!!! i love writing long winding paragraphs!!!

[lovelessbachelor]

YOUUUUU 🫵

your turn.

for the ask game, NUMBER 17, 24 AND 26‼️

/nf for all of them of course eheh 💛💛

aaah!! ty!

17. name 3 things that make you happy

hmmmm lets see...

1 - lollll ErrorInk it's actually so awful i wish i was kidding when i say i think about them kissing and its like a stress relieving calming activity for me

2 - designing and symbolism!! i love making up lil tidbits to justify why something is the way it is designwise even if i tell no one!! its sososo nice. like did u know that i draw Error & Ink as structural opposites in terms of shapes and weight to emphasis the dualities i see in them? did u??? no! cus i dont talk abt it but i think abt it and it makes me craaaazy

3 - that ambience when i go outside for a walk and i stand on that wooden bridge and hear the rush of the river underneath me and birdsong and the rustle of leaves and the sun is out and i have to squint a little to see but its shining through the trees and theres a few patches of flowers sprouting about and its so delicate and pretty and i think maybe for just a little bit that everything is going to be okay.

24. what’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for?

still being here, maybe

or getting over some of my anxiety! i still get anxious and nervous and jittery but i just make myself power through it bcus the worst thing that can happen is my pride getting wounded most of the time

26. fave colour and why?

aaagh c'mon man!! i have 2 of those!!! i like purple bcus of its deep jewel tones that just rlly vibe with me and make me feel nice and masc and confident whenever i wear them ( purple & navy tones my beloved ) and i like green bcus of its variety and presence in nature!!! like woah!! one time i teared up bcus i saw a tree that was just this most gorgeous shade of green...

also green is on the aro flag (which i am) and purple is on the ace flag (which i am) so nice perk!!!

[daenysx]

Hi hi! Can I request a smutty modern aemond x reader where reader just need some time to wind down from all the stress so aemond tries his best to be sweet and romantic but when reader asked for a neck massage, aemond kinda lost it.. lol

thank you for requesting ♡

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, smut

you're trying to finish the last paragraph on your essay when aemond comes out of the bathroom.

he has a towel wrapped around his waist, his long hair curling on his shoulders. you know he likes them straight but the water coats them so nicely, the curls fall on his body gracefully. he has another towel in his hand, he starts drying off his hair with it.

you can't help but stare at him.

"enjoying the view?" he asks smugly. he's in a good mood this evening, smirking to your direction when his eye meets yours.

"kind of." you reply. you try to get back on your paper, it needs to be done in 8 hours, before deadline. you try to catch up on your work before the end of the term but it's a bit hard on you, your shoulders feel like they are stuck in the same position. you write another sentence as aemond finishes up with his hair. he wears a pair of boxers quickly before coming to your side.

"kind of?" he asks, kissing the skin below your ear. "that's rude."

you smile, typing a few more words. "i'm sorry." you mumble. "i'm almost finished with this."

aemond kisses your cheek as he glances at the screen. he likes what you write, he'll definitely want to read it when you finish editing it, and he'll give you his honest comments with lots of compliments. you tilt your head back to kiss him when you see him reading, a cracking noise comes from your neck.

"ow." you say, rubbing your neck.

"i guess that was a warning from your body to stop."

"just- one minute." you murmur, one hand on keyboard as your other rubs your poor muscle.

aemond waits for you to finish, and then he takes your hand. you save your writing, stand up from your chair to wrap your arms around his neck. your back hurts when you lift your arms, you frown against aemond's shoulder. he gives you a good kiss on the side of your head, his hands go over your shoulders.

"can i ask you something?" you say, still hugging him.

"of course." aemond replies. you take a step back to see his face.

"can you rub my shoulders a bit? and my neck?" you ask kindly. aemond couldn't love you more.

"i-" he starts, kissing your lips in between his sentence. "can totally do that."

you smile and let him take you to bed. he stays behind you as you sit on the edge, exposes your back to him by taking off your shirt. you hand him the massage oil from the nightstand, it smells so nice. he takes some on his hand and starts massaging your neck.

"try to relax a little for me, sweetheart." he whispers. you love his voice so much, and he's so close to your ear. "you're so tense."

you can't help the little noises coming out of your mouth. you've been so tired and tense lately, your body starts loosening up with a little care. the stress of everything stays on your shoulders, aemond rubs them with his thumbs. he's being so gentle, warm fingertips going over your muscles. you like it so much, you're almost asleep under his hands.

"'m not." you mumble. "you're so good, i could never be tense when you're doing this."

"flattering." he says, kissing your hair. "do you wanna lay down?"

you nod, quickly laying facedown on bed. aemond keeps massaging, your muscles loosen up really well. this is the best your body feels in almost a week, you think you've been too cruel to yourself.

he takes his hands all over your backside and when he gets too close to your shorts, your sleepiness leaves you. he rubs your waist, fingers skillful on you as he drags them down on you. you squirm under him, is he doing that on purpose? knowing aemond, the question is probably mistaken, he definitely knows the effect of his hands.

"aemond-" you say when you feel him play with the waistband of your shorts. you lean on your elbows to turn your head, his face is full of concentration. his eye meets yours and you squeeze your thighs for a second, definitely unintentional but he doesn't miss it.

"does it feel good?" he asks with a dangerously low voice. "when i do this?" his hand is on your waist still.

you can barely nod. "yes."

"do you want to continue?"

"i want more." you say, sure of yourself. "please."

aemond smiles slightly, his girl is the kindest. he sits on bed properly, leaning against the headboard and pulling you on his lap. he pulls your shorts and panties down, you take your bra off and sit completely naked on his thighs. you let your hands touch his chest and his stomach, he is flawless. he looks at you with a lovestruck eye, his lips parted only a bit.

he puts his fingers inside his boxers to take his cock out, and this might be the hottest thing you've ever seen. his long fingers stroke himself only a bit, he adjusts the fabric with his other hand. you can feel the newly forming wetness between your legs, you press yourself on his thigh unconciously.

"there you are." he says, one hand on his cock and the other one on your leg. "ready for me?"

you nod, move yourself forward. the tip of his cock touches your swollen clit, you can't help but lean against his chest. "it's okay." aemond whispers to your ear. "i'll do it, you lovely thing. hold onto me."

you do as he says, he holds your waist to support you as his other hand pushes his cock inside you. "slowly." he says. "don't hurt yourself."

you take him inside you with a breathy moan against his ear, he almost goes insane. the stretch is always nice but you are so turned on by his hands, he easily slides inside. you put your head on his chest, he kisses your hair too many times. you catch your breath, your lips are pressed on his bare chest. you give him a long kiss.

aemond holds your neck gently, he uses his thumbs to massage the spots he's been dealing with as he settles down deep inside you. you tilt your head back with a moan, he rubs your neck so well you almost come. he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, leaning down to suck it as his hands work on your neck. your hands stay on his chest, your nails digging into his skin. he lifts his hips a little, it only makes you want more.

"aemond-" you start, breathless by his hands. how can he be so good with them? "please, i'm- i need it."

"i know." he says, kissing your chest. "you can come anytime you want, don't worry about me."

"no, n- please." you say. "can you get on top of me?"

he does as you say, strong arms putting you on bed as he stays inside of you. "is that what you want?" he says, sucking a bruise on your neck. "wanted me to fuck you like this? oh- you're so-"

"please, please." you wrap your arms around his neck. "keep moving. i'm so close." you whisper the last part to his ear, he kisses your collarbone.

"you're so pretty." he says, totally losing himself inside of you. he moves back and forth, one of his hands starts rubbing your clit. "so pretty like this."

he rubs harder, his mouth on yours. you kiss him nicely, not letting him pull back by holding onto the nape of his neck. his hair envelopes your face, you can smell his shampoo. the tiny moans you let out during the kiss drags him to the edge, he doesn't think he can stop himself.

"come for me." he demands. he kisses you sweetly on your cheek as you obey, he comes right after you do. the sounds of him get carved in your brain, you feel numb under his body as your peak washes over you.

it feels good, having aemond so close to your body. the release is both physical and mental but your favorite is definitely the way your muscles feel relaxed. he groans as he comes inside you, you squeeze him hard when you reach your peak and it never fails to make him let out loud noises. you hold him on top of you when he finishes, trying to catch your breathing. he's the only thing in your world right this moment.

aemond buries his face to your neck. he doesn't think he's strong enough to pull himself back right now, your warmth is addictive. you draw shapes on his back, indicating him to stay just like this.

"i should clean us up." he whispers, his lips are sucking the skin below your ear. he feels worn out in the best way possible.

"later, baby." you say. "stay here."

he can't resist anything when you call him baby.

[serverusslaype]

Shameless, pt. 15

Severus Snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

hey guys.................. dont kill me. i'm so sorry for the incredibly lengthy hiatus.... i had no motivation, each time i opened the file to type i'd type a couple words, maybe a paragraph and close it. i finally found the motivation to finish this chapter recently, i'm hoping it stays. it's been a rough couple months, so hoping this can help me feel a bit better!!

i felt really guilty for sort of abandoning the fic where it was, but i couldn't force myself to write anything, there was no creative juice, i think i sort of burnt myself out. and for the previous posts saying i was back, i thought i was, but i'd have the smallest spark of inspiration and try to write, but then nothing happened, and i felt bad so i didn't want to say something like, sorry, i lied. :(

hopefully this chapter is okay, i know most of you won't like it, but i'm so glad i finally finished it, it was one of the hardest to write because i had so many ideas on how it'd end and effect the whole story itself, so i had to make sure it made sense.

i can't believe you guys are still here after so long, it made me emotional to see all of your asks and comments and likes, i was just floored to be honest, so thank you so much for your unwavering support. i love you all so so much. honestly. holy shit. this has been a journey. <3 i hope you guys are all doing brilliantly.

warnings: lack of snape, swearing, mentions of adultery, slight domestic violence, verbal abuse at the end

You didn't know where to go. You felt... lost. You couldn't exactly go back to your quarters, not with Ben there, you didn't need more questions about why you were crying your eyes out at this time of night. It's not like you could tell him the truth.

So, you did what anyone would: go for a midnight walk. Well, at least that's what you thought anyone would do when they had nowhere to go. You'd hoped that the fresh, cold air would soothe your burning lungs, and the gentle breeze would dry your teary eyes. In an even deeper, darker part of your mind, you also hoped that Black would find you. Perhaps that would make everything... easier.

With tears still streaming freely from your eyes and heavy feet, you padded towards the large, magnificent doors that led to the outside with your arms wrapped around your body tightly; trying your best not to breakdown until you were alone. Your hands were still shaking as you pushed them against the doors, opening it a tad as the cool wind blew through the crack and into your face. You gasped a little at the sharp breeze, but nonetheless you slipped out, and made your way into the courtyard. The temperature was a little more biting than you had anticipated, and so you squeezed your arms around yourself a little tighter, walking towards the infamous wooden, crooked bridge.

As you sauntered through the courtyard, the only noises you heard were the owls hooting in the distance, the gentle breeze brushing through the burnt-amber leaved trees and the faint clack of your heels against the cobblestoned ground. In all honesty, it did feel a little eerie to the say the least, but at this very moment that was the least of your worries. All you wanted was a little time alone to cry, or grieve what could have been with ...Severus.

Gods, it hurt to even think his name, let alone speak it.

You reached the wooden bridge, and you stopped in the middle of it; leaning against the intricately carved columns to gaze out at the highlands. The moonlight casted a gorgeous glaze-like reflection upon the Black Lake, and it twinkled beautifully, almost hypnotising you like an illusion. Your eyes flicked up to the moon and glanced around it, staring at the glittering stars surrounding it like a perfect painting. Only times like this did you miss teaching Astronomy. As your mind reeled back to your first year teaching at Hogwarts, you relished in the time where you did not know the man named Severus Snape, and suddenly your heart sank in your chest like an anchor dropped at sea. You were so naive back then, unknowing of what was to come.

As the memories of you and Severus flooded your mind like a dam breaking, you let yourself cry. You could still feel his lips on yours, his fingertips gently tracing the curves and grooves of your skin, the words he'd whispered into your ear - it was all there, stained on your skin, like a tattoo - or perhaps a branding. And now you had to live with it. You weren't sure if you'd survive this time, especially not with how deeply you felt for him. You were torn between pretending he didn't exist and trying to talk to him, perhaps even telling him how you felt, but truth be told you were petrified of how he'd react. Would he even look at you again with those glittering black eyes you'd come to adore so hopelessly? Would he dare speak to you again, knowing that he'd charmed you? Maybe he'd relish in the fact that he'd done so, take pride in bewitching you, and make you hurt for it. You knew Snape could be rather cruel, your school days here with him as your teacher was enough for you to know that.

All these unanswered questions swam through your head and you felt yourself becoming suffocated from them, and it suddenly felt as if your lungs had filled with water, drowning you. You sobbed helplessly as you slid down the wooden wall behind you with your hands against your face, the rough edges scratching your back through your clothes rather uncomfortably.

"Y/N?" A voice came from beside you, and you froze. You turned your head away from them and quickly used your sleeve to wipe your eyes, drying the tears that had fallen from them. Only one person has a voice as soft as the one you had just heard.

You gave yourself a moment to gather yourself before even attempting to use your voice.

"Hello, Remus." You croaked quietly, sniffling.

"What on Earth are you doing out here so late?" He questioned gently, and you heard him take a step towards you. "Are you alright?"

"Quite dandy," you sarcastically quipped, sighing deeply, "I'm brilliant..." You turned your head to face him, and immediately, his face softened at the sight of your own. You were sat up against the side of the bridge, knees up against your chest and your arms wrapped around them; nose and eyes red, wet with tears. Remus quickly dropped down to his knees beside you, placing a soothing hand upon your forearm.

"What happened?" Remus asked, careful to keep his voice quiet and soft. With empty eyes, you stared into his worried ones, and instantly you felt terrible. The last thing you wanted was people worrying over you.

You looked away, down at the ground. "I..." you mumbled, sighing, "it's a... long... story." You spoke slowly. From the corner of your eye, you saw a small smile quirk up on Remus's lips.

"I've got time, my dear." He replied as his thumb brushed your forearm, silently encouraging you to talk. You felt at ease in Remus's presence, it was almost like he had a calm aura around him, and naturally your body relaxed beside his. You took a deep breath.

"Erm," you choked, sniffling again, "it's Se... Snape." You couldn't bring yourself to say his first name without crumbling into a million pieces.

Remus let out a gentle breath. "Snape, of course," He tutted, glancing between you and the ground. "What's he done?" The fact that Remus reacted like he had expected Snape to have hurt you, further broke your heart. Were you the only one to have seen through his icy exterior?

"Broken my heart," You laughed dryly, and you had to fight back another bout of tears. Remus's brows furrowed in confusion at you. "We... I... Look, I'm not sure how to explain this to you. But... I fell..." You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence. Your heart hurt too much. You only hoped that Remus knew what you were about to say.

Remus blinked and stared at you, shocked. Clearly, the two of you had hidden your 'relationship' well - so well that everyone was oblivious to it. "You fell...?" He frowned.

"In love... with him..." You almost whispered, avoiding Remus's eyes. You weren't sure if you'd be able to handle the look in them.

"You're in love with... Severus?" Remus repeated, and you squeezed your eyes shut at his words. They were like daggers, stabbing your bleeding heart. It was almost like you could feel it trembling inside of your chest, begging you to free it from this cycle of torment. "But... Aren't you with... Ben? And... Severus... he's..."

"I know," you sighed, noticing his confusion, "I had feelings for Severus before I met Ben. And it sort of just, like, spiralled out of control, and now, erm, here I am- Gods, I should have just listened to Minerva, I wouldn't be here right now, hurting like this." You ranted, another strangled sob leaving your throat. Remus watched you, and his eyes softened. He felt terrible for you. "She warned me, Remus, why didn't I just listen to her?!" You cried, letting your head fall into your hands.

"Y/N," Remus whispered, reaching out a cautious hand to pry your face from your hands. With a soft gasp, you looked up with teary eyes, and he wiped a stray tear from your cheek. "We don't get to choose who we do and don't fall in love with. We follow our hearts blindly, most of the time, unknowingly." He said, and moved his hand from your wet cheek to your shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. "It's beyond our control who we love."

There was a moment of silence.

"...What do I do, Remus?" You sobbed softly, sniffling, looking at your knees.

"Have you told him?"

"No."

"I think you should."

"But what about Ben? Shouldn't I... deal with... that first?" You sniffled again. "And what if Severus doesn't feel the same way about me? Then what?"

Remus paused for a moment, thinking. You looked up at him. "What if he does?" He said, a small, comforting smile tickling his lips as he stared at you.

"Well- from the way he treated me earlier... I truly doubt it, Remus." You scoffed, glancing away from his pitying brown eyes.

Remus sighed, and you clenched your jaw. "Regret is a terrible thing, Y/N," he said, "it's such a short word, yet it stretches on forever." Your eyes were glued on the ground and your body was still, but your mind was running a million miles an hour.

You sat there in silence for a short moment, thinking deeply. Remus was right. You'd regret it for the rest of your life if you didn't tell Severus how you felt. That chance of him reciprocating your feelings was small, but it was still there. If he didn't feel the same, fine, you'd move on. Eventually. And if he did?...

"...Alright," You nodded sheepishly. "I'll tell him. I just... need to, erm, work out when and more specifically, how. Like, do I just straight up blurt it out? Work my way up to it? H-how do you know it's the right time?" You rambled with tears still falling from your eyes, glancing through them at Remus who sat beside you with a soft expression upon his features.

"You'll know." Was all he said before slowly standing and holding out a hand for you to take. Graciously, you took it, and Remus pulled you to your feet. "Feel better?" He hummed, casting a glance out at the moon, then a worried look suddenly struck his eyes. You noticed and frowned slightly at his behaviour.

The moon?

"A little." You forced a smile upon your lips, and lifted up a hand to wipe the remaining stray tears upon your red cheeks. Remus looked back at you, and returned your smile. "How come you were out so late?" You asked curiously, brushing off his odd reaction to seeing a moon.

"A walk in the night does me good," Remus shrugged, and began to walk back towards the castle with you beside him. "Clears my head."

"Ah, well, I suppose I'm glad you found me, then." You chuckled awkwardly, folding your arms against your chest.

Remus smiled at you and placed an arm around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. "Let's get you back to your quarters, Y/N, you look like an ice block." He hummed and lead you back to the castle, but not before throwing another glance over his shoulder to the almost-full-moon.

Faint, footsteps trailed down an empty corridor, and a billowing black cape followed with it. As Severus marched, his chest felt horribly heavy, almost like there was a boulder chained to it, weighing him down. He couldn't figure out why he felt like this, and it was starting to make him a little irate. He knew it was something to do with you since it had started after you'd stormed out of his office.

As Severus was about to round a corner, the sound of familiar, sweet laughter rattled through his bones, and immediately he froze. Without a doubt, he knew it was you. Only you could have laughter that sounded like the sweet songs that birds chirped in the summer mornings. The breath in his lungs suddenly vanished and he quickly swooped himself behind a bookcase, poking his head out from the side of it to see who you were with.

The moment you appeared, that boulder chained to his chest became heavier, and he felt himself lean against the bookcase he hid behind. Severus's eyes widened as they glued themselves to the man beside you - Remus Lupin. His blood boiled at the sight.

What could have Lupin have said to make you laugh like that? He'd only heard you laugh like that when you were with him, not Lupin.

From a distance, he couldn't make out what the two of you were talking about, but it was obviously hilarious. Severus's jaw clenched as he watched Lupin place a hand upon the small of your back, guiding you.

Guiding you... inside your quarters?

Snape hissed silently to himself as he stared, his sharp and hardened eyes welded to the back of Lupin's head like molten metal. As your door shut, Snape could only huff in disgust with bared teeth. What were the two of you doing in there? It was past midnight and you and Lupin seemed happy as Larry to go into your quarters. Snape couldn't bear the idea of you and Lupin alone together - let alone the fact that Lupin had had his damned, grubby paws on you. Severus clenched his jaw in a violent fashion, very clearly upset at how you'd moved on so quickly, especially with another professor at Hogwarts. Was this your thing? Bewitch every lonely professor that you laid your wretched eyes upon and then move onto the next? Did it make you feel better about yourself in some fucked up way?

An uneasy, bitter feeling twisted inside of his chest as he pictured the two of you alone and he whipped around out of spite; the swoosh of his long, black cloak filling the silent hallway. How could you move on so quickly, so... easily? 

"Never did I think I'd see the day that someone told me they fell in love with a man like Severus Snape." Remus laughed softly as he waddled to your sofa, glancing at you as if to ask if it was alright to sit. You nodded at him.

"And yet here we are." You hummed with a flat mouth, clearly not as amused as your friend was. "Sometimes I wish I was as emotionally guarded as he was, but then I remember how bloody miserable that would be." You mumbled, earning an abrupt laugh from Lupin who'd settled on the couch with a soft sigh.

Ben was nowhere to be seen, so you assumed he was asleep in the bedroom.

"Severus is an interesting character, most definitely," Lupin nodded and you turned around, walking towards him to join him on the sofa. "And I applaud you for being able to tame him. If it's any consolation, only one other woman had been able to, though I think it was... unintentional, if you will."

"Unintentional?" You questioned, your tone curious. Though almost instantly, that curiosity was killed as the thought of Severus with another woman stabbed at your fragile heart. "Actually, I'm not sure if I want to hear this right now." A dry laugh slipped from your lips and you exhaled sharply as another wave of tears prickled at your waterline.

"Alright." Lupin said softly, taking notice of your quivering voice. He stood up with a breathy groan and shuffled towards you, slinking an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest. It was calming, and the way he hugged you reminded you of all the times your parents would comfort you as a child. As Lupin gave you a supportive squeeze, it was as if he'd accidently pushed the button for the waterworks - hot tears began to stream down your cheeks once again, and you sobbed quietly into his wrinkled shirt.

"Hey," Lupin sighed as he watched your shoulders shake with sorrow. His hand sat on the top of your arm, squeezing it gently: a dire attempt at consoling you. "Don't cry, Y/N, it'll pass."

"Idon'twantitto-" You mumbled into his shirt, sniffling loudly. Lupin's brows furrowed together in confusion as he paused for a brief moment, silently trying to decipher what you'd just said.

"What?" He asked gently, leaning his head down so he could hear you a little better. You lifted your head from him, sighing, another heartbreaking sniffle sneaking out of your reddened nose.

"I don't want it to." You repeated yourself, lifting a hand up to wipe your wet eyes lazily.

"I know. But it will." Lupin sighed too. "Severus is... a very... damaged man," He cringed slightly at his choice of words, but he continued, "I'm not even sure that you could help him- or fix him."

At this point, you were staring soullessly at the floor, and the only thing you could feel was Lupin's chest against your shoulders. Were you and Severus really a lost case? You felt like you'd made so much progress, he'd opened up to you, he'd... he also ran away again. Perhaps your friend Remus is right.

"I think I want to be alone." You suddenly blurted out, slowly glancing up at the professor with glossy, red eyes. Lupin blinked at you, confused for a moment, though he quickly came to. He didn't blame you for saying such a thing - you'd just had your heart ripped out, to put it simply.

Remus didn't say anything, he only nodded, offering you a kind, yet pitiful smile - and that hurt you slightly. You didn't want his pity, in fact, you didn't want anyone's pity. "If you need anything, you know where to find me." He muttered, brushing a hand through your hair softly. You shut your eyes for a moment and sighed, a small gush of guilt filling your body. Here Lupin was, trying to console you, and you're kicking him out. You hoped he didn't take it personally.

"I'm sorry, I... I just need to be alone." You quickly offered. Remus shook his head and frowned at you.

"No, I understand. See you in the morning, Y/N. Feel better soon." The professor smiled at you and this time it wasn't rich with pity, but kindness. He tipped his head at you and began to shuffle his way towards the door, opening it with a quiet creak from the oak. Before he disappeared out of your chambers, Remus turned around and smiled at you once more, slipping away.

Seconds after the door shut, a drowsy-looking Ben opened your bedroom door, popping his head out. He squinted at the bright light, clearly having just woken up. That settled your nerves slightly, since you'd just spoken about Severus with Remus, only a few metres away from Ben.

"Are you crying?" Ben yawned, his bushy brows furrowed in either confusion or annoyance - at this point you couldn't tell.

"No," You coughed and turned around to pretend to do something else as you wiped at your eyes. "I'm fine, go back to bed, Ben." A curt sigh fell from your lips, and almost immediately you heard footsteps padding closer to you. "I'm fine." You repeated, listening as his feet stopped behind you.

"What happened?" Ben asked, the tiniest hint of sympathy in his voice made you shiver slightly.

"Nothing, it was just a rough day at work, honestly. I'd rather not talk about it." Your brows shot together as you tried to keep the tears at bay, but you couldn't help but think about Severus as Ben placed a hand on your waist in an attempt to pry you away from the countertop and towards him. You didn't want anyone else's hands on you but his.

"Hey," Ben said softly, though it felt heavy in your chest. "It's work. It won't matter in a day or two." You were silent. "Y/N?"

"I need a drink." You muttered and forced yourself to look at Ben, cringing slightly as you walked past him and towards a glossy wooden cabinet in the corner of your chambers. You rarely drank, and if you did, it was to either celebrate something, or forget something.

Another uncomfortable silence fell on top of the pair of you.

"Want one?" You asked with no emotion in your voice.

Ben hesitated for a moment, his groggy eyes staring at the back of your figure, silently trying to deduce you. "...Sure."

You were going to regret this.

You'd changed into comfier clothes, more specifically a pair of forest green silk shorts and a matching camisole top. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you faced Ben as he was sat on the windowsill opposite you, nursing his glass of wine. After a few strong sips, the pair of you were chatting and reminiscing like old pals. "Remember that time when I turned Peter Kipling into a weasel in McGonagall's class?" Ben giggled drunkenly, elbowing you gently as you nodded with tears in your eyes, an amused grin spread across your face.

"Oh my- I forgot about that!" You wheezed, smacking your lips together. "Didn't you get... like... at least- like a month's detention for that?" You laughed, slurring, taking another sip of your glass of Elven wine. You winced slightly at the strong aftertaste as it burned your throat. That was to be your last drink, you couldn't take much more.

"Ohh, yeah, I d-id," Ben hiccuped, his laughter dying out as he sighed; his tired eyes falling onto you. Shuffling under his gaze, you felt slightly uncomfortable. A brief yet thick silence suddenly engulfed the two of you like a slow-burning fire. Ben stood from where he'd been sat, stumbling over to where you were, stopping just in front of your knees.

"I miss talkin' to you, Y/N." He sighed, taking his hand and placing it upon your cheek; carressing the apple of it with his rough thumb. The strong scent of alcohol on his breath made you gag a tad - you were drunk as well, but the smell of it wasn't pleasant, especially from his mouth.

Your breath hitched slightly at the sudden contact.

"..Yeah." You answered quietly albeit awkwardly as you stared up at Ben. Though, all the wine you'd consumed was making him look like someone... else - the darkness wasn't helping either, in fact it was fueling your hallucinations. The dark cast of a shadow from the lit candles behind him made his nose appear larger, and his cheekbones a little more pronounced.

Slowly, he crouched down until you two were eye-level, his hands slipping to your ankles. Your body stiffened slightly at the feeling. "Ben.." You warned, sighing as the drunk buzz and pleasurable tingle from the pads of his fingers was starting to cloud your mind.

"Whaat?" He whispered, heavy-lidded eyes still glued to yours as his fingers began to trail up your calves. Ben began to stand up slightly, pushing his face dangerously close to yours, and so you leant backwards to avoid him, your back gradually making contact with the bed. He shuffled forwards slightly, pressing a knee against the edge of the bed to balance himself.

You shouldn't be doing this, you knew that, but Gods, the alcohol was truly fucking with your morals and mind.

Would it hurt?

Just a little... taste...?

You shut your eyes as you became lost in the feeling; his fingers reaching the backs of your soft thighs, a breathy sigh falling from your lips. Slowly, you opened your eyes again as Ben's smalelr nose pressed into your neck, followed by his wet lips. You gasped as his hands found your torso, his fingers pressing a little too harshly into your flesh. 

Severus.

Memories of him suddenly flooded your mind like a reservoir breaking a dam, flushing out anything that didn't embody him. All the times Severus had attacked your supple flesh beautifully; pulling gorgeous moans from those pink lips of yours. Your brows furrowed together as your body silently yearned for his touch. It hurt.

You were stuck between stopping this and just shamelessly indulging in the dark, twisted fantasy of pretending that Ben was Severus. You were being so selfish. And yet, you didn't care, all of the emotional turmoil that you'd been through tonight was pushing you to the edge - all you wanted was the man who didn't love you, who only saw you as a quick fuck, maybe some midnight company. 

You shut your eyes again and tried your best to imagine him. With a sigh, you ran your hand up Ben's neck and into his hair, though it wasn't the same. You missed the way you'd tangle your fingers in his raven-black locks, gripping on it as he'd ravish your neck and breasts like some mad professional. Sighing frustratedly, you moved your hands down to his shoulders, expecting the rough, black fabric of Severus's robes, and yet you were met with the flimsy, thin fabric of Ben's white cotton t-shirt.

You felt so fucking pathetic.

Knock, knock.

You froze, eyes snapping open as quick as lightning. Was there someone at the door?

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Ben groaned drunkenly as he continued to kiss your neck. Unfortunately for him, the feeling had worn off the second you heard those knocks.

"The knocks at the door."

"You're.. imag-ining things, baby." Ben sighed and hiccuped once more, his uncomfortably hot breath on your neck made you shiver. At this point, Ben was much more drunk than you, and so with your remaining energy, you rolled him off of you. "Whoa- heey-!" He groaned as you slipped from underneath him, padding to the door. You didn't bother to check if he was alright, the only thing on your mind was who was at your door at this time of night.

Was it him? Did you want it to be him?

Reluctantly, you reached out your hand to open the door.

Nobody was there.

You frowned and leaned forwards, poking your head out to glance around. The corridor was empty, completely empty. That was incredibly weird, did you imagine those knocks? You sighed softly - perhaps you were a little disapppointed. Turning around, you shut the door, only to be faced with Ben sat sloppily in a chair with a face like thunder.

"Waitin' for someone?" He asked with a flat tone, his head lazily cocked to one side, still clearly drunk.

"What?"

"You know what I'm talkin' abou', Y/N." Ben said with the same tone, standing up, albeit unsteadily. You swallowed as he inched closer towards you, dragging his feet, your toes burying themselves against the hard wooden floor beneath your feet. "I know about the notes you kept. From him." He spat, pointing his finger at your face. Your heart instantly began to gallop; the pounding of its beats echoed in your ears like a harrowing scream in the night.

The notes...

"Excuse me?" You choked out, brows furrowing together in complete shock.

This was not how you wanted this to go down.

"I went through yer little drawers. In yer greenhouse," Ben scowled, his nose turning upwards in what you could only describe as disgust. "All of his little notes were perfectly preserved, and mine? Well-" Your mind was running so quickly that you could barely even listen to what he was saying - the fact that he went behind your back and invaded your privacy was the only thing sticking out to you as of right now. Your skin felt like it was on fire as the anger began to flood your veins.

"You went through my drawers, Ben?!" You yelled, shoving a finger in his face.

"That's the only thing you care abou'?! Not the fact that you secretly- obviously, have some sort of fucked up... thing for a man who treats people like they're the tiniest bit of shit on 'is shoe?!" Ben screamed back drunkenly as he bared his teeth, stomping towards you and smacking your finger away. "The fuck is wrong withya?"

You knew this could get ugly quite quickly, especially as Ben was drunk - a lot drunker than you. But at this moment, your anger was far too hot to even think about cooling things down.

You scoffed at him, your lips twitching upwards into a disgusted sneer. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! Going through my stuff?!" You shouted at him, taking a step backwards as he began to get a little too close for comfort. "That's not okay, Ben!"

"How long has it been going on?" Ben asked, his tone suddenly calm. That put you on edge.

You paused for a moment, pondering on his question. It was probably best that you didn't answer that. "We're done here, Ben." You clenched your jaw, silently readying yourself for some sort of explosion.

"How long, Y/N?!" Ben yelled. The way the whites of his eyes were basically screaming at you made you feel terrified. In this current moment, there was only one pair of arms that you wish you were being held in. The man in front of you backed you up to the door, and you could only stare at him, for your wand was foolishly placed inside the pockets of your robes hung in your bedroom. Tears burned in your eyes as the guilt you'd tucked away was finally waking up and holding your body hostage with it's incredibly heavy weight. "Did you fuck 'im? Is that why ya never slept wit'me for months? Because you were too ...busy being his fucktoy?" Ben slurred, his face red and lips wet with saliva from how he'd been shouting.

"Shut up!" You cried at Ben as the tears began to break free from you and run down your cheeks like melting diamonds. This was so not the way you wanted this to go. "Please, just stop!" You were sobbing at this point as his words pierced your heart, quickly reminding you of what Severus truly thought of you.

"Oh, fuck sake, stop with the cryin'," Ben growled, drunkenly shoving a hand into your shoulder, sending you barreling backwards and into the door. You winced slightly as the bone of your shoulder blade made contact with the metal bar on your door. "Whiny bitch, yer the one in the wrong, not me!" He grumbled with a heavy sigh, turning away from you.

"Shit, Ben-" You gasped as you leaned forwards and pushed yourself off of the door, however, a sharp and excruciating pain shot across your shoulder as you tried to move it. "What the hell were you thinking?!" You whined, stumbling to the countertops of your kitchenette to lean on it. Your shoulder was fucking killing you.

"Me? What was I fuckin' thinkin'?!" A sarcastic, manic laugh fell from his lips and immediately you regretted your choice of words. The man spun on his heel, and suddenly he donned a wand in his hand. Now, you were scared for your life. "You're one to talk... you know what... I'm going to have you fired... yeah... blacklisted. From every job in this fuckin' area! That'll teach you to be a whore!" Ben screamed the last word so loudly that you were sure every sleeping student and teacher heard it. Your jaw ticked, and you had to look away, your face painted an embarrassed shade of scarlet.

Your heart dropped at his words. No way was this happening.

"You can't do that." You whispered, tears still streaming from your eyes as you stared at the ground.

"I work at the Ministry, darlin', anything is possible."

"Fuck you."

"What did you just say t'me?"

"Fuck you!" You cried out hoarsely with one hand on your shoulder and the other gripping the countertop. An animalistic like growl fell from your ex-boyfriend as he stormed towards you, fury burning bright in his eyes. He raised his wand, and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for some sort of spell to hit you.

"Stupefy!" A familiar voice commanded, the swish of a spell following it suit. Then, a loud thud.

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes to see Ben laying on the floor, unconscious in a pool of his own saliva. Your chest heaved with fear, and you were incredibly scared to look up to see who had come to your rescue. Frozen, you stood still in your place, though you could feel your knees beginning to buckle. Within seconds you were on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, your lungs on fire from how harshly you were breathing. Merlin, you could've just died.

uh oh.. who saved her?

i'm sorry if you weren't tagged, i went through the majority of my notes and tried to find you all!! pls forgive me :( there was a lot due to my absence <3

taglist:

@a-laufeyson

@emilynissangtr

@livillain00

@meowskii

@nooneeveryonenoone

@vesperbatty

@biggest-simp-eversposts

@881127fara

@freshmoneyalmondathlete

@sonoluvr22

@v3lv3tvampir3

@lashipperrubia

@camilla-black

@acakius

@hiddlestonspassionsackx

@tellatubbies

@mikariell95

@sunshinemink

@m0rtifiedg0th

@spookymicrowave

@sayonara30

@novas-dreamworld

@ms-snape

@captainrogers-19

@once-upon-an-imagine

@cj-ghostemoji-destielpie

@renirat

@0chemicalwaste0

@6kaja9

@guardiandear

@gloriousrebelrunaway

@ameliachastain

@setsuna-meiou31

@kateris-world

@unatempesta-dipensieri

@jspidey5

@lyrixsnape

@bbykens

@johnmurphys-sass

@rockymiles

@joshysloshy

@luckylightcosplay

@melmel-fandom

@whosiris

@yu-87

@chalkoutljnes-blog

@ameliachastain

@eatmyshortsz666

@alexisabirdie

@snifellus

@roxy366

@stainedglasscrystals

@sojantrouxao

@mariaeatsworms

@cheri-cheri-cherry

@lizziebitch33

@dreamybxnny

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@daydreamer-and-booklover

@daemonwhitedove

@yoongjennie88

@aureum-lepus

@lolwey

@alanalanalanalanalanna

@dystopiaincognito

@rye-flower

[vinestaffery]

Hey guys, I am so sorry for all the angst. As for a gift, I've decided to give you all some sort of comfort scenario. I've also lately been on a very bad writer's block, so I apologize for no posts. School is back, and I am not doing well, but I decided to let my heart out through writing comfort scenarios.

Make sure to take care of yourselves and to always look out for your immediate needs. You are special, you are loved, and you are adored in this world. Even though it may not feel like there is never going to be an end to a certain pain of suffering, it will get better in the long run. You are deserving of all the love in the world; you are cherished gracefully and gently by the wind and nature. Never let yourself down. <3

Some of these scenarios may not have had written paragraphs, but I probably explained them well enough in their bullet points!!!!

CW/TW: briefly mentions of abuse/attempted kidnapping, self-harm, attempted suicide, and harrassment. These topics aren't described perfectly or explicit, but are mentioned within the scenarios. If these trigger you, please avoid this post at all costs. Thank you.

B. ZUKA.

He knew not to trust you at night alone, weary that you could've gotten lost or hurt somewhere.

People in Cross Roads can be dangerous, as the mixture of different factions all combine together there, right in the center.

When you came home late, he wanted to discuss where you were.

"Where were you all night? I was worried and concerned."

He looked serious, and it frightened you.

"I was just out with some friends."

He didn't take it too kindly that you were ignorant and gave him the cold shoulder.

Even avoiding eye contact.

He knew something was up, and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

He investigated your arms, especially the one you held onto with your spare hand.

Bruises that were scattered across your forearm

God, the fury he felt when he found out you had been harmed at night made him even more angry.

Not just angry at the prepatrator, but not even being there to help you.

To support you

What good of a boyfriend is he if he can't even protect you alone?

"Who did this?" You couldn't breathe.

"It was no one, Zuka, I promise you."

"No, who did this?" There it was.

The full-blown worry and anger that he would relish in if he found out who did it.

You listed the appearance of the demon that had tried luring you into an alleyway.

Lucky enough to escape with a few bruises, you had gotten home.

Home to where now, your boyfriend cradles you in his arms.

He treated your wounds, making sure they didn't hurt as much as they did before.

"I'm sorry for not being there." Hearing him so defeated, it was too much.

You could feel the brink of tears escaping your eyes.

"Who did this to you?" Zuka threatened. You hesitated, not wanting to burden him with your worries. But his protective nature was evident in the way he held you tighter, waiting for an answer that you weren't ready to give. The fear of retaliation from the demon kept you silent, knowing that revealing the truth could only lead to more danger.

"I... I don't know; look, it's nothing." You tried to avoid the topic. The thoughts and feelings of their hand on the direct spot were bruised; it was too much to handle. Zuka's gaze softened as he wiped away your tears, his concern evident in his eyes. "You don't have to face this alone," he reassured you, his voice filled with determination to protect you from whatever was causing you pain.

"Can I please see what they did? So I can treat it." Zuka asked, permission was key in times like these and was definitely needed. Your mindset was scattered everywhere, untidied wires trying to connect comforting topics and memories. It struggled to block out the demon moments ago. Zuka's A gentle touch on your shoulder brought you back to the present moment, his calming presence giving you a sense of security. "I trust you," you whispered, allowing him to inspect the bruise and provide the care you needed. He nodded, taking your arm into his gentle palms. They were calloused and rough, but they brought back the feeling of love and home. A place you were fond of, set in your destined memories. Zuka's Touch was a reminder of the unwavering support he always provided, a beacon of light in your darkest moments. As he began to tend to your bruise, you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you, knowing that you were not alone in facing your demons.

"There, it should be able to not hurt as much, but still be careful." Zuka muttered, his hands laying on your elbows before pulling you into a hug. He kissed the top of your forehead, swaying slowly left and right. In that moment, you realized how lucky you were to have someone like Zuka in your life. His presence brought a sense of comfort and reassurance that everything would be okay in the end. With a deep breath, you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to fully embrace the warmth of his embrace.

DOM.

You understood that popularity wasn't your thing.

So did Dom.

But when it came to paparazzi, it was horrible.

Every day, you had to live with trying to cover yourself from photographers and fangirls that would pretrude on your residence.

Sometimes, I even have to deal with harassment every morning because of it.

It overwhelmed you a lot, especially when you just wanted to be with your partner.

You'd have to watch Paparazzi get scared off by Firebrand.

But one night, you had a weird text come through.

Some anonymous fangirl who had threatened the lives of you and Dom's

It was terrifying and heartbreaking to see such threats made against you for just having Dom as a partner.

Of course, you didn't want to bring it up.

Why bring up something that you can totally deal with yourself?

Oh, how you were wrong.

Days on end, you were getting texts and calls.

It made you unbearably grouchy, and Dom could tell.

When it started to get mentally twisty, your arms became a stress reliever for you.

That's when Dom had to step in after finding you in your bed, completely drained.

The phone is going off constantly.

"My Eminence, what seems to be the matter? You've been locked in your room for days."

All you could do was croak and fall to tears.

"I can't do this anymore, Dom, the calls, the messages!—"

He was shocked when he heard your phone go off again—another call.

When you went to pick it up, Dom grabbed it first before you.

A snarky, swearing demon screamed on the other side.

Death-threats and others, it was revolting to hear.

"Who is this? You best own yourself up, you freak. Harassing my girlfriend? I'll have you burnt to a crisp," and boy, that shut them up real good.

You were shaky, taking deep breaths to calm yourself down as Dom hung up and placed the phone flat on its screen.

His eyes seemed to go from rage to soft care and worry.

"My Eminence, my Universe, why didn't you tell me about this?"

You fell into his caring arms once more.

Maybe, just maybe, if you weren't afraid of speaking up, this would've ended.

The thoughts grew stronger, and he could tell.

"My Universe, Eminence, don't let thoughts that may fill your mind with unneeded water fill your mind; it was not your fault; it's okay to be afraid if you can't speak up about that stuff."

You only let out a shaky breath, a sniffle, and a sob.

"I was so afraid you'd hate me that you'd call me horrible things."

His heart broke, and you couldn't trust him at all.

"Oh, my star's goddess, I'd never hate you; I'm worried sick! Please, never ever let yourself be afraid to inform me of such poverty."

You only let out a smile and a confirming nod, which he took in as an answer.

"How about we go to your favorite store, hm? The one you love dragging me to."

SCYTHE.

Days were growing overwhelming by the second.

When you decided to move to Lost Temple as one to join Scythe, you didn't expect it to be so hard unboxing everything and walking down the streets in opposite attire.

Lost Temple and Thieves Den had entirely different aesthetics, especially for you.

Scythe knew how hard it is to change factions, especially with how they are looked down upon.

"Angel Eyes, is that you?"

You had only been ridiculed a few hours before Scythe's return home from work.

Sobbing endlessly, it never seemed to stop.

"Angel Eyes?"

Her voice was more worried as she soon began to kick down the door.

You had forgotten to get her a spare key, but mostly because of the stuff going on.

They had been rejecting all offers to you, overpricing food access, etc.

It was overwhelming.

You were subjected to such measures of torment for even being there.

"Darling! I'm coming' in on a one, two."

You unlocked the door, letting out a loud click! The door is slowly sliding open.

"Aah, my dear. What's got 'ya lockin' the door so early?"

"Just some things, safety, and all that."

Scythe knew you were wrong, as for the look in your eyes.

"Angel Eyes, I know what's up; how's about you letting me in?"

You nodded, letting her in as you watched her march on in and grab onto you.

She dragged you onto her lap as she spread her legs across the couch, laying her mechanical weapon down on the side.

Her hands lay on your hands and thighs, staring up at you.

She could see the tears that twinkled ever so neatly.

"Ya' been cryin'; what's the matter?"

"Just... some things happen, Scythe."

"Just some things, ay?"

You nodded, but she knew much more than you did.

Her eyes stared gently into yours, a gloved hand reaching to lay neatly on your cheek. Scythe sighed. "Sugar, You know you can always talk to me, right?" She whispered softly, her voice filled with genuine concern. You knew you were afraid to open up, but you did so anyway. You were hesitant.

"Some of the people in this town don't like me at all. "You really don't like me at all." Scythe's expression softened as she listened, her hand gently rubbing your cheek in a comforting gesture. "I'm sorry to hear that, sugar. But don't you worry, I've got your back," she reassured you with a warm smile. You felt a wave of relief wash over you, grateful for her unwavering support in the face of adversity.

"You're a good person, and that's all that matters," Scythe added, her eyes filled with understanding. With her by your side, you felt a newfound sense of courage to face the challenges ahead. "I know, I'm just... afraid? What if something happens to me?" Scythe's eyes darkened as she nodded. Something could happen to you if you weren't careful or someone took your presence wrongly.

"Stay vigilant and trust your instincts," she advised, her voice firm yet comforting. With Scythe's guidance, you knew you had a strong ally to help navigate the uncertainties that lay ahead. "And the broker is always a call away." Broker was a close friend of yours, so you knew what to do if Scythe wasn't around to support you.

"You got me, sugar?" Scythe asked, fingers holding onto your chin as you stared and nodded. "Yes, Scythe." She let out a smile. "That's my good, angel."

SUBSPACE.

THE GREATEST INVENTOR OF ALL OF BLACKROCK!! And he's YOUR partner!

If that didn't risk you getting strange looks from others and such an overwhelming reputation in Blackrock,.

Subspace was always busy, sometimes never having as much time as you two used to as kids.

After Medkit's whole fasco, he's been going insane over the crystals while you watched you two lose time with each other.

You thought maybe, just maybe, Subspace would slowly forget about your own existence.

But you couldn't let those thoughts trick you! He'd never do so!!!!

That's if they weren't 'true' from the start of the gossip train.

"Did you hear? Subspace was out with another demon!"

"Isn't he supposedly with someone already?"

It was heartbreaking to find out that your own partner had decided to spend time with someone entirely different, and even much longer than ever.

"I heard it was a date!"

"I feel bad for his actual partner; that's so sad."

Then, the mean comments started riding in about you.

Rumors.

Endless, endless rumors.

It was getting so much that you ended up attempting that very night.

Yours and Subspace's anniversary.

"MY PRECIOUS TREASURE!! I'M HOME!"

You sat in the bathtub, the pill bottle clear of any, as you slowly dunked your head.

"Precious? Where are you? I must tell you about my new biograft invention!!!"

Only a few more seconds, as the voice of his became nothing but a fine line of void.

The blaring light of the hospital ceiling eroded through your vision.

Was this heaven? Valhalla?

"MY PRECIOUS!!"

Subspace? Your partner? What's he doing here?

His arms wrapped around you as he sobbed. How could you do this to him? How could you leave him?

"Never, ever, do that again! You had me scared half to SOFTH!"

You stared at the pink-red demon that had been crying endlessly at you. You could tell by his puffy, red eyes.

"What happened?"

"I found you in the bathtub; I was lucky enough to even get to you in time."

The seriousness in his voice conveyed serious regret as you sobbed and cried.

"I don't deserve this; why'd you take me away? Why aren't you with the other person you met up with in the cafe?"

"ANOTHER PERSON!? What are you talking about, my precious?"

"The RUMORS!! Everyone's been talking about how you were on a date with someone else, cheating on me!!"

Subspace was confused. Is she cheating on you? Oh, he'd have his own creation chop his head off and finish him!

"Cheating!? My precious, my pearl, my gem! What ridiculous rumors you've managed to get ahold of! I'd never cheat on you, never!"

You stared at him.

"Really?"

"REALLY! I was just meeting up with Hyperlaser about my biografts and inventions! Nothing more! I had even purchased you fine, delicate flowers to put in your vase once more."

You were stunned— absolutely stunned. He never cheated on you; it was all a misunderstanding.

"But the proof? The…"

"Whoever was stalking us, my precious, it is not true! I love you with my fullest heart, and I would never replace you with anyone else. You deserve the world, if not the whole universe! I would do anything to make you happy, precious!!"

"Now, please, never pull such stunts again... I love you dearly!!!!"

Maybe, just maybe this wasn't so bad after all.

"Alright..."

"Rest, my gem!! I will be here always, from now on."

And so, you did.

[pouralaura]

I wanted to ask you this because I adore your Tav and how you write Raphael. Seriously I can’t get enough of them together. ♥️

We all talk about finding Raphael’s diary, but what if he found Tav’s? Tav who’s all prideful and teases him, acts like they’re not interested in him. Keeps their guard up, ya know? But he snatches up their diary and uncovers that they are anything but uninterested…

Basically just constant gushing, all of those embarrassing, obsessed, horny thoughts written down that Tav would rather die than admit to. ESPECIALLY to Raphael.

Thank you so much for the kind words! I love to write em mutually obsessed in the worst way. down so bad. 24/7 gross about each other.

here's a little something

--

Tav is out.

She's traipsing about with her companions (far less interesting than she; nuisances toward whom Raphael simply can't help his indifference) around the city, so it's a perfect time to do a bit of reconnaissance. Normally he'd demand this of Korrilla, but he is quite fond of Tav.

And sending Korrilla into Tav's private rooms at the Elfsong won't be quite enough this time. Some clients require a more personal touch -- more exclusive scrutiny.

(And, if he happens to find a delicious little morsel during his perusal through Tav's personal items, perhaps all the better.)

...Also helpful to have his little warlock downstairs to keep watch, just in case his target returns unexpectedly.

So: yes, Tav is out, and Raphael is in. He's poofed into her little bedroom, surveyed her meager possessions, and found...

...what has he found? Not much. Some emptied bottles and a wine glass that ought to be washed, a few books here and there in various states of being read, some dirtied laundry (but in a literal sense, not really what he's looking for).

There is, however, a small leather-bound volume on Tav's nightstand. Unassuming. Perhaps a journal.

He flips open to the most recent page, half-full of Tav's blocky print, and he discovers he's correct. Her writing is smudged inelegantly where he presumes she's rested the heel of her hand against the paper as she moves along. It's poor penmanship. Raphael tuts in disappointment.

But then he takes in the actual content of the page, and...

It's quite the discovery.

Oh, there's no mention of illithids anywhere. No reference to the Astral Plane, or their travels along the Sword Coast beyond a few landscape details. Not even a single acknowledgement of the long-awaited death of Ketheric Thorm.

No, it's something else entirely.

Her language is tentative and blushing at first, but grows more and more lewd as the paragraphs wind on. Such a hard-headed woman -- it's not a compliment -- headstrong and obstinate, keen and incisive...and she might as well have written a name in looping cursive surrounded by hearts all over these pages.

But what name? A lover from her past? Surely not one of her little friends.

Who is this man, who's clearly enchanted her so thoroughly? Tav writes of warm brown eyes and curls she'd like to touch and oh she knows he's absolutely fucking packing under those ugly-ass trousers --

Positively troglodytic language from his favorite little mouse. Raphael scoffs. How curious he is now to uncover the source of her more basal fantasies (aspersions cast on attire clearly notwithstanding). He flips another page, and scans the contents he finds.

Something tells me that man likes the sound of his own name more than anything. I'd say it all he wanted if I could have his mouth on me.

Raphael tastes iron and brimstone as he bites down on his tongue. His piercing gaze darts to the opposite page.

Would hate to stifle his sinful voice, though, even with it between my legs. Wonder if he'd sound the same with his cock buried so far in me he'd cum out my damn nose -- "Little mouse", he'd groan for me --

...

The devil blinks.

Well, well, well.

So it's he whom the hero of the story fancies so intensely, is it, now? Usually so quick to brush him off, to turn up her nose at his delivery...but ah, how her writing contradicts her demeanor. What a find. What a delight. Raphael's shit-eating grin nearly rivals his erection in size. (Also, yes, he's obviously packing; the little mouse is entirely correct. As if he'd glamour himself a small human cock.)

But he's not able to bask in this delicious revelation for long, as he feels the press of Korrilla's signature sending spell at the edge of his mind, signaling Tav's return to the inn. Much as he'd love to read more -- perhaps alongside a glass of wine, a hot bath, and the willing, pliant flesh of his pretty incubus (in the form of the Archduchess tonight, he thinks, as his cock aches) -- it's time to vacate the premises.

Carefully he replaces the leather-bound volume on Tav's bedside table exactly as he'd found it, snaps his fingers, and he's gone in a puff of smoke and glittering sparks. As if he'd never been there at all.

--

It's not a week later when he sees her again at the Caress, come to ask another question and draw out her inevitable agreement to his terms once again.

(He's in no hurry. He's not the one with a ticking time bomb in his pretty mortal head.)

It's not until she gets up to leave, her little friends in tow --

"See you later, Raphael."

-- that he makes his move. Stands with them as is polite, sweeps around elegantly to Tav's side as she follows her companions to the door.

Raphael places a hand delicately at the small of her back, giving her pause. Leans in close to her ear, pitching his voice low:

"How I do love the sound of my name more than almost anything else, little mouse. Particularly when it comes from your mouth."

Fingertips drift down further, tracing the line of Tav's hip to a point between decent and indecent -- the lightest of touches; almost-but-not-quite a caress. Raphael watches a flush travel from the apples of the mouse's cheeks down her neck, its trail further hidden by the unfortunately high line of her leather armor.

He thinks he's got her, but then she looks up to meet his eyes, and there's laughter behind her gaze as she delivers her line and exits stage left.

"The quilting on your trousers is ugly as all the Hells."

The devil is left bereft of words as Tav skips off to join the vampling and the Selunite at the door, casting one last (heated? mocking? both?) glance back at him. A wink in exchange for the sneering curl of his lip -- a rose for his thorns; a thorn for his roses.

But his scorn melts into a smirk when she disappears from sight. If it's more than a bit fond, who's to say?

He does love it when his clients put up a fight.

Perhaps he'll bring her to her knees in more ways than one. Give her an eyeful of the expensive quilting she seems to despise so passionately.

[laiqualaurelote]

First Lines

Tagged by @nostalgicatsea (forever ago but I'm only getting to my tags now). Thank you!

Rules: list the first line(s) of your last 10 (or however many you have) posted fics and see if there’s a pattern!

speak easy, swing hard

When the shots rang out in the Arc, the band didn’t stop playing. It was twelve minutes into the new year at a Stark speakeasy and the joint was jumping, the floor crammed with gin baby socialites essaying the Charleston, mobsters clustered around tables, petty thieves circling and dipping into the pockets of the unwary; when the bullets started flying the crowd screamed and sought to scatter but the bandleader barely blinked, just led his crew full tilt into another chorus of ‘I Wish I Could Shimmy Like My Sister Kate’ while the singer, a svelte Sokovian songbird in a shimmering scarlet number, sidestepped a bullet that buried itself in a piano leg and kept right on crooning, All the boys in the neighbourhood know she can shimmy and it’s understood, while all hell broke loose on the dance floor.

well-versed in etiquette, extraordinarily nice

“You must know, Mr Crowley, that this is to be my last job,” said Jane.

all the men and women merely players

In with the wind blows the news that the Players are coming to town. 

constant as a northern star (constantly in the dark) 

Sachiko Crimm meets Ted Lasso for the first time in a Lidl.

The Lady With The Recorder Asks The Questions

“You took out the line about the threesomes, didn’t you?” 

ain't practical, a world you can't touch

Just a whole lot of aiming, he’d told Cornelia once. But it’s Martha Myers who misses.

maybe everything that dies someday comes back

“He don’t look like much,” said the client. “You sure he’s the chap we’re after?”

a song that will keep sky open in my mind

We knew Eli was back because of the baby. We could hear it crying clean across the wheat fields. 

can't start a fire without a spark 

It was a whole thing when Eddie Munson and Chrissy Cunningham blew town together and ran off to start a rock band.

A Gentleman's Guide To Love And Piracy

Day seven of my return to the high seas, wrote Stede in his journal. Since Lucius was no longer around to take dictation, the journal existed only in his head. Morale is low, I will not lie.

Patterns - I'm a big fan of in media res (it worked for Homer and it works for me) and so I like to start in the middle of things. I'm also trained to write hooks for people with short attention spans, so my first lines tend to be crunchy. The one exception is the first on the list, which is from speak easy, swing hard, the 1920s Prohibition-era Avengers AU I wrote for @nostalgicatsea as part of @marveltrumpshate. I wanted it to evoke the wild, chaotic tempo of a hot jazz number (something like the intro to this) so most of it is a pile-up of a long run-on sentence, and the writing continues in this fashion until Tony shows up to calm things down, whereupon the paragraphs go back to being a brief couple of lines each. I learnt this trick from seeing how translators handle action sequences in wuxia novels.

Tagging: @leupagus, @themardia, @auntieclimactic, @nagia-pronounced-neijia, @eisoj5, @swallowtailed, @justplainsalty, @bropunzeling, @st-clements-steps, @sagiow and anyone else who'd like to do this!

[neewtmas]

Hello hello! Could I please request George x gn!reader either sharing an umbrella in the rain or being caught out in a storm and having to find shelter together? 😊 thanks in advance, love your writing!

Kisses In The Rain

A/N: omg when I tell you I threw my phone through the room when I saw you requested something??? This is so nerve-wracking to post bc I love your writing omg🥹 i hope you like it!! The idea was the cutest, and I just decided to do both🤭

pairing: george karim x gn!reader

word count: 1.5k

masterlist

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You closed the door of 35 Portland Row and adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder before you turned around. The bright sunlight made you squint your eyes. For a moment, you just closed them and enjoyed the warmth on your skin. It was a lovely day, the sky bright blue and no clouds in sight, and that was a rarity in London. You were meeting up with George at the Archives today and decided to walk instead of taking a cab. This weather ought to be taken advantage of. A slight breeze ruffled your hair as you walked through the streets, a slight spring in your step. You were feeling good - the weather and the prospect of spending an entire day with George lifted your mood immensely.

It didn't take long before you arrived at the Archives and found George sitting at the table you usually shared, surrounded by books, nose buried in a particularly heavy one. As usual, he was so focused that he didn't hear you coming, and so you took the opportunity. You quietly moved behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso and squeezing. "Hi, George", you whispered in his ear.

He gasped, the book he had been holding up slamming on the table, the sound echoing through the quiet room. "Y/N!", he hissed, wriggling out of your embrace. You just chuckled to yourself and sat down on the chair opposite to him. George cleared his throat, running his hand through his hair a few times before returning to his book. You smiled softly as you watched him search over the page with his finger, trying to find where he left off. His ears were tinted pink and you could tell he was flustered by the way he flexed his hands while reading. You loved the effect you had on George in situations like this. You were just lucky he didn't know what effect he could have on you.

The next few hours you spent reading, scribbling down notes, every now and then showing each other a particularly interesting paragraph. Time flew by, like always when you and George hung out.

It was late afternoon when you finally packed up your stuff, ready to head home. You stretched your arms over your head, your stiff muscles protesting after being in a seated position for so long. You and George made your way through the long aisles of bookshelves, down a few stairs until you reached the foyer. Outside, the air was still warm like in the morning, but the atmosphere felt heavy.

"That does not look good", remarked George, critically eyeing the big, towering heaps of dark clouds that had taken the place of the sun. "Do we take a cab?" you asked.

"We might be fine if we hurry."

As it turned out, you were absolutely not fine. You had walked for just about five minutes when the first heavy raindrop hit your cheek. When you looked up, there was no trace left of the blue sky you had woken up to this morning. The wind had picked up considerably, blowing leaves over the sidewalk. In the distance, thunder rumbled. Raindrops began to fall, quickly beginning to turn into a heavy downpour.

"Shit shit shit", George mumbled and started to rummage around in his bag. You looked around to see if there was maybe a cab or at least someplace dry where you could find shelter, but the street was deserted.

"Aha!" You turned back to George to see the reason for his excitement. He held up a little umbrella. "I knew I was gonna be useful." He opened it up, inspecting it briefly. "It is a little small though. I hope you don't mind?" He smiled at you, a little bashful, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Of course you didn't mind. "Why would I?" you asked, linking arms with him. He quickly averted his eyes, but you were sure you saw a blush creep up his face. The rain intensified further as you walked down the street, impossibly close together under the small umbrella that didn't do a very good job of keeping the rain away.

Soon, everything from your chest down was soaked, as the rain now splattered down, driven under your umbrella by gushes of wind that became stronger by the minute. The temperature had fallen quickly, and suddenly you wished you had packed a jacket this morning. George was gripping the umbrella handle tightly, the wind threatening to rip it from his hand. He leaned closer to you, his breath brushing over your ear. "We should try to find shelter, don't you think?" Now it was your turn to be flustered. You just nodded.

The wind kept jerking at the umbrella and George's knuckled turned white, trying to hold it in place. But to no avail. Booming thunder sounded through the rain as a particularly forceful gust picked it up. George's fingers slipped off the handle, and immediately the wind took the umbrella, blowing it high up in the sky. George cursed loudly, looking after it. There was no chance of retrieving it. You pointed down the street, where you could barely make out the logo of a little corner store through the heavy rain that had immediately soaked you to the bone. George seemed to understand because he grabbed your hand and together, you sprinted through the rain.

The ground was littered with puddles, some big, some small, but you didn't care to avoid them. At this point, you couldn't get much more wet anyways. But that was a mistake. You didn't have enough time to register what was happing when your foot caught in something and you tripped and stumbled. Your hand scraped over the wet concrete as you caught yourself right before you landed face-first in the giant puddle beneath you. George was still gripping your hand and immediately pulled you up again with all the strength he could muster. But the momentum was too much - you collided with his chest, and without thinking about it, he wrapped his arm around you to stop you from falling a second time.

You stared at him, your mind still processing the fall and the fact that you suddenly were so close to him, pressed up against his chest. His one hand was still holding yours, the other gripping your waist, keeping you in place. You were so close that you could count every single freckle, every drop of rain on his face. His curly hair stuck wetly to his forehead, and you couldn't resist the temptation to gently brush it to the side. As you lowered your hand again, his cheeks were flushed, but this time, he did not look away. Instead, he studied your face intently, like you were the most fascinating person he had ever laid his eyes on.

You couldn't help feeling flustered under his intense gaze. Suddenly you were hyper-aware of how close you really were. Just leaning in a little would be enough… George seemed to have the same thought because he leaned down impossibly closer, until his lips were ghosting over yours. You held your breath, butterflies jittering around in your stomach and you closed your eyes in anticipation.

But what you anticipated never came. Instead, deafening thunder tore through the air, startling you into opening your eyes again. George immediately let go of you, almost jumped away, and you suddenly had the sinking feeling that you misread the entire situation terribly. George looked at you wide-eyed, and you could not for the life of you read his expression. What was he thinking?

Without a word, he grabbed your arm - not your hand - and pulled you over to the little corner store, that was closed but at least provided some shelter from the rain if you kept close to the walls. You were still dazed from the almost-kiss you just shared out there in the rain - was it an almost-kiss? Or was that just what you wanted it to be?

You tried to get some of the water out of your hair and wipe off your face, and it took only a few seconds of being out of the rain for you to start shivering violently. Every piece of clothing on your body was soaking wet. George looked over to you, and without a word, he got out of his jacket, crossed the short distance between you and carefully draped it over your shoulders. His hands lingered there, and you could tell that he didn't know what to do.

"(name)-" he started, but you decided whatever it was that he wanted to say, you didn't need to hear it. You took a quick step closer, cupping his face and pressing a kiss on his lips. Immediately, you pulled back again, gauging his reaction. He looked at you stunned, with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, lips slightly parted. Your heart was beating so loud you were scared he was gonna hear it as you searched for his eyes, for confirmation that this was what he wanted. "Do it again" he whispered, barely audible.

[midnight-mourning]

Good morning, mourning! is it possible for you to show us how you make an outline for writing a chapter sometime in the future? like what does your first rough rough draft look like?🤔

also whats your favorite vine/meme at the moment?🫣

Hi pip!!

I can actually show you RIGHT NOW as I keep all my outlines (for the most part) saved in their respective chapters

*added a read more post-answering bc this got LONG lol*

So, it's sometimes a bit dependent on the fic, what I'm writing at the time, and where I'm at in the process. I usually have two different methods I stick to and typically combine in some manner:

bulleted list of important scenes/ideas to expand out upon from there (typically how I start out ideas for oneshots)

big blurb paragraph of a flow of ideas from start to finish (typically how I start out chapter-based fics, and what I do for Confused Spirit)

From there, I'll then combine the two methods in some way if it's a oneshot, and if I'm struggling to get the words flowing for a chapter-based fic, I'll use the list to expand out upon things I wrote originally. For example, this was ch. 34's outline (spoilers for those who haven't read it yet):

and then the list I added once I got started properly, which I crosssed out as I went along. Fun fact, you can see where I hit a moment of greatness in that last bullet and the chapter came together as a whole from there:

the blacked out is things I've pushed back for later (or just general spoiler stuff), so you can see that inital plans and even those I make WHILE writing the chapter are still subject to change as I go into actually writing it. Another good example would be from ch. 32:

in this case, I went back and added to the original outline (I think you can tell where lmao) and didn't utilize a list

I'd love to find chekov's gun, bc that one was REALLY good if I'm remembering correctly but I think it's buried somewhere in the Dialogue Dump unfortunately 😔

Adding on to that, I write a lot of scene ideas/mainly dialogue for things that happen in the future as the ideas don't typically come to me in chronological order. the party from 33? like a month into writing the story. the team meeting Michael? mid-arc 2. Chekov's gun? the start to midway point in the first couple days of writing and then basically finished within by the middle of august (started in July for those that don't know)

My point being that there's a lot of things that I have saved for certain arcs/plot points that I then insert into their proper place in the story once I find where that is. For arc 3 in particular I took the approach of gathering all the dialogue i KNOW was going to be in the arc, wrote my lil blurbs for all the chapters, and then started placing them accordingly. stuff has (and probably will continue to) gotten shuffled around, but for the most part has stayed in their original places.

a rough rough draft beyond that is basically adding to those base scene ideas (sometimes in order, sometimes not) typically writing dialogue and then filling in the blanks from there! sometimes if I'm lucky I can write a chapter from (mostly) start to finish in a span of four hours or so but that's only when i'm REALLY cookin'

Sorry for the super long winded response, didn't realize how much I wrote until I did it 😅

TL;DR, blurb of ideas, organize those ideas/add to them or adjust, full send it from there (with the potential help of some dialogue along the way)

As for my fav vine/meme currently? Probably the lump fish guy, everytime someone says 'very mindful, very demure' (I am not on tiktok so I do NOT understand this one) I instantly think 'very beautiful, very powerful'

thanks so much for the lovely ask!!! <3 <3 <3

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Throuple request for jean/crosby/bubbles? Something like Jean realizing through Crosby's letters that not only did her husband go off to war, he also got a boyfriend?

Just before she becomes Mrs. Jean Crosby, she notices a change in Harry's letters. They arrive as regularly as they always have. But he's gone from basic training to navigator school. And there's a name.

Joe.

Over and over.

I should call him Payne, I suppose, writes Harry. But he's not the sort of fellow who seems right for a last-name nickname. He's...well, I'm not sure how to say it, Jean, but he reminds me very much of you.

Before she was just a few short months away (leave permitting) from becoming Mrs. Jean Crosby, she was the daughter of proud and loud bohemians.

And she still is.

And they taught her that love is an ever-expanding option, not one that shrinks.

Harry grew up in much more "respectable" (Jean hates that word) circumstances. As intellectually curious as Jean, but he thinks and thinks and thinks (and thinks) where Jean does not. Harry weighs every possible option and makes a first decision, then checks that against every new possible option he's conjured.

Jean makes a list of "probable" and "probable but not possible" and makes a final decision from that alone. Harry says she's like opening the windows on the first warm day, clearing the musty air from his head.

She sits down and writes him back, disguising her response halfway into her letter after paragraphs about apartment-hunting and cleaning tricks she's learned.

If this Joe reminds you very much of me, I would love to meet him. But perhaps you can judge him with a kiss, the way I did you. The first time I kissed you, I felt lit up from the inside. If you feel this way for this Joe, I may be convinced to call off our engagement. But maybe not. I suppose it depends if you think he can win against me in a fair boxing match.

The next letter from Harry does not mention this passage, but there is a postscript: Joe says hello.

Jean makes sure to include a postscript of her own: I say hello to Joe.

Harry does get leave in time for their marriage. He brings this Joe Payne with him. He's blonde as can be, with a kind face and a sweet drawl. Harry can't quite meet Jean's eyes when he makes introductions.

"Joe, would you care to wash up?" Jean asks, gesturing towards the bathroom.

"Thank you, Ma'am," Joe replies. Jean doesn't bother to tell him to shove the ma'am. It can wait until later.

The moment the door latches, she grabs Harry by the collar and kisses him hard. "Does he kiss as well as me?" she asks, laughing in his ear.

Harry twists in her grip but also holds onto her waist so she can't get away. "You know I have no idea how to find out," he says.

"I told you how to find out," she replies. "It was clear as day in my letter." She makes a consoling sound when Harry winds up his face. "Oh, you couldn't do it. But you wanted to."

"I did," Harry admits. He opens his eyes and looks into hers. "I do," he says, and he doesn't sound ashamed. Jean's so proud she kisses him again.

"Shall I take matters into my own hands?" she asks. "I could just kiss him myself."

Harry pulls her in tight and buries his face in her neck. "You're trying to rile me up," he says.

"What's the point of loving if I can't?" she replies.

The bathroom door opens. Jean hugs Harry tight so he can't get away. Joe comes up short at the sight of them.

"Sorry," he says. "I'll just--"

"Joe, you ever look at Harry and think about kissing him?" Jean asks.

"Jean!" Harry shouts, but it's muffled against her neck.

Joe shifts back and forth on his feet, then settles and shrugs, giving Jean a sweet, deep smile that makes her feel glad to know him. "Well, sure," he says. "Would you mind?"

"Not in the least," Jean says. "As long as you mean it."

"I would," Joe says. "I look at him, and it's like I've got bubbles running through me."

Harry lifts his head from Jean's neck and looks at Joe. "Really?"

"Bubbles," Jean says. "That's what we should call you."

Joe shrugs. "Best nickname anyone's tried so far, honestly."

Jean holds out a hand. "Come here, Bubbles," she says, trying it out.

They all three chuckle as Joe walks over. Jean steps back and leaves Harry and Joe hand in hand.

"Well," she says to Harry, "you had enough nerve to propose to some odd bohemian girl. You must have enough to kiss Bubbles."

Harry looks at her like she could solve every problem in the world. She curtseys to make him laugh. She laughs as he does kiss Joe, quick and careful, and she covers her mouth with her hands when Joe chases him to get another kiss.

"Yeah, okay," Harry says to Joe. "Jean's right on the money."

"From the way you tell it, she usually is," Joe says. He kisses Harry again, then looks at Jean. "Can I kiss you, too?" he asks.

"If you have an interest, sure," she says.

He kisses her too, and for Jean it solidifies his nickname. Because his kiss feels like Harry's like there's bubbles up under her skin.

She and Harry get married, and they have one night together before he has to leave again. Bubbles comes to get him the morning after, and she makes breakfast for the three of them.

She kisses them both before they leave, making Bubbles promise to write her himself.

But on every letter back to Harry, to remind him of what they have, she adds a postscript. Tell Bubbles 'Hi' for me.

[sweetcarrotsandroses97]

Winter pt. 1 | JJK

Hello darlings!!!

Pairing: royal guard!Jungkook x princess!Reader, prince!Jimin x princess!Reader (ft. Yoongi & Hoseok)

Summary: In which you, princess of the Gyeongdong Dynasty, were in the middle of wedding plans. An arranged marriage that would guarantee your father's bloodline to stay on the throne.

Or in which you are assigned a new royal guard that swore to protect you with his life. Jeon Jungkook. That's his name. A name you could never forget. A name that, slowly but surely got engraved not only on your memories but also in your heart.

Love, politics, betrayal and desire. All in ancient history. A love that never should have happened, two souls that wouldn't be allowed to be together.

Warnings: angst, fluff, implied smut, pregnancy, descriptions of delivery, pregnancy complications, arranged marriage, blood, character death, heartache, yearning, forbidden love, more angst, Jimin is a sweetheart, heartbreak, fainting, heart disease, Jungkook writes poetry, funeral, mentions of reincarnation, ANGST (WARNINGS APPLY TO BOTH PARTS!) (Let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 14, 286k words

A/N Hi, darlings! It's been so long since I posted Autumn for you guys and I am so terribly sorry for the months wait. I really hope you will like this third part of "Four Seasons"!

I've been working on this for months now but lately I've found new inspiration to finally finish this and trust me, it will be a total roller coaster! Thank you so much to the people who commented on the other two parts as they all gave me such motivation to return to this story!

A/N I had to divide Winter into two parts because apparently Tumblr doesn't like to have too much paragraphs in one post! The two parts of this long chapter are linked on the masterpost of this series! Please let me know what you thought of this part, I really hope you will like it and it leaves you yearning for more! Without entertaining you further, happy reading, everyone!

💜 Boraghae ARMY 💜

~Taglist for Four Season: @valhallawhispers @lovingkoalaface @seokout @ackercute @jksusawife

It is said that time cures the pain. That it freezes the sorrow and paralyses the soul. Yet Jungkook couldn't agree with that statement. If only, the arrival of winter had made his pain bigger. Just as his love. He was sure that his heart would explode someday with the amount of love he held for the Crown Princess of Gyeongdong. For you.

The wedding day was approaching fast. Your life was changing too quickly too soon and you weren't sure you could grasp your new life so easily.

Snowflakes fell slowly from the greying skies. The cold air whistled past you, the thick robe you wore kept you warm yet you couldn't help the shiver that travelled up your spine at the sudden wind.

"Are you cold, princess?"

Asked Jimin, who stood next to you. You shook your head with a smile on your face. He was so caring towards you.

"I'm faring just fine. Aren't you cold?"

He shook his head and you winked at him before you focused once more on the target a couple of feet away from you. Raising the bow with an arrow attached to it, you aimed at the target and shot the arrow.

It travelled through the air with a soft sound before it landed at the centre of the target and you lowered the bow.

"You are really good at this. How did you learn to aim so perfectly?"

You sent a smile to your fiancé and answered while giving the bow to one of the palace servants, already done with your practice.

"I used to have a personal teacher so I learnt the basics and later on my personal royal guard, Jungkook, gave me a couple of tips in one of my practices."

Jimin walked next to you, his hands clasped behind his back. He walked you everyday after your practices and lessons back to your room. It was in those moments when the two of you got to spend some time alone together, getting to know each other before the wedding would take place.

"Is Officer Jeon to your liking?"

You nearly gasped at your fiance's question but you caught yourself on time. You had to think smart about your answer. Although Jimin was a sweet guy, you had come to learn he could be a little possessive too. If he felt threatened by Jungkook, you feared he might dismiss him from his duty to protect you.

"He has done his job perfectly up until now. He has also been of good company to me. It gets lonely sometimes here, you know?"

He hummed in acknowledgement. Looking down at you for a brief second before he returned his gaze back to the front.

"Then he can continue with his duties after we get married. He is important to you, isn't he?"

You looked at Jimin. Blinking back tears for his generosity. A gift that meant more to you than life itself. He was able to see the gratitude in your eyes as you gazed up at him.

"Thank you, Jimin."

You didn't answer his question. But that didn't cross his mind at that moment. The Crown Prince found himself getting lost in your eyes.

This was probably the last encounter you both would have before the wedding as it was tradition that the groom didn't see his bride for three days until the ceremony. You could tell he didn't like that idea with how he seemed slightly more tense than he usually was.

You didn't want to bring up the subject, didn't want to make him uncomfortable so you sent him a smile. A gesture he returned before the both of you travelled across the palace gardens painted in white in a comfortable silence.

As you walked next to Jimin, your heart yearned for the presence of another man. You felt so guilty for not giving your fiancé the love he deserved but you couldn't help your heart, your thoughts were swimming with Jungkook and only Jungkook.

Even when your wedding day was three days close, you couldn't stop thinking about the man that owned your heart.

"Get inside, Princess. It's cold here."

The Crown Prince spoke beside you. His sweet voice, quite like a summer breeze, brought you out of your mind. If only for a moment, you left your thoughts about your lover behind.

You smiled up at Jimin, his eyes held a deep emotion you couldn't quite describe. It was astonishing. He held so much admiration for you, perhaps even love and it all reflected in his brown eyes as deep as the sea itself.

"I will. Thank you."

He smirked, taking a step towards you that made your stomach twist with nerves. Your eyes were wide while expecting his next move. A gasp left your lips when you felt his hand enclosing yours. His thumb moved over your knuckles in slow circles and tingles erupted in your skin.

"I will not see you until our wedding, Princess, but just know that you will live in my thoughts until my eyes are graced with the image of you again."

A subtle blush painted over your cheeks, was it because of his words or the cold air outside? You couldn't tell. But you squeezed his hand as an answer.

"I shall see you in three days, Your Royal Highness."

He smiled, that sweet smile that made his eyes close. Cute. You thought but that thought vanished from your head the moment he leaned forward, his eyes stared at your lips for a split second but he didn't kiss you, he wasn't going to do it that way. The least that Jimin wanted was to tarnish your name in such a rushed moment.

He leaned towards your ear, his words were whispered as only you were meant to hear them.

"Call me Jimin. At least when we are alone. I love the sound of my name on your lips."

The prince leaned back, now towering a bit above you.

"I'll see you in three days, Jimin."

He gave you a priceless smile. No amount of money or luxuries would have been able to buy that innocent smile from his plump lips.

"See you in three days, (y/n)."

You couldn't describe the feeling of hearing your name spoken so casually. It was intimate. A moment between you both engraved in the stars. Rarely has your name been said without formalities. The times you had been spoken to were always with your title in the middle. A constant reminder of your status. Of your place in society.

You were to inherit a whole kingdom and that was a lot to carry on your shoulders yet when Jimin said your name without titles or formalities, you felt free. Even for just a second. It only existed the two of you in the middle of the frozen gardens.

Your hand that was still clasped in his before it was lifted up to his lips. Jimin placed a soft kiss on your knuckles before a sweet smile, again, adorned his lips.

That was the last time you saw him before the wedding. He walked away and you entered your bedroom, sliding the door shut as a sigh escaped your lips.

You were getting married.

Maybe Jimin wasn't the owner of your heart.

Maybe you didn't love him as he deserved.

Maybe your heart was already taken.

But he was a good man. A gentleman. A born king to Gyeongdong. A man who loved you. He respected you. He honoured you.

You put those thoughts aside, not wanting to dwell on them so much before you walked to the other side of the room where your private garden rested covered in white snow.

Sliding the double door open, cold air met your face and there you spotted him. Jungkook. He rested against the leafless tree that if you were in spring, pink petals would decorate the enormous tree as well as the ground below it.

You couldn't help but smile at him. He hadn't seen you yet, his doe eyes were glued to a book in his hands. He was waiting for you. He waited to make sure you got to your quarters on time and safely. He wasn't allowed to walk behind you like before, at least not while you were with Jimin. King's orders.

"Aren't you cold?"

That voice he enjoyed so much reached his ears, making him look up at you. He smiled. Shutting the book as his arm rested next to him. Your feet crunched the snow below as you made your way towards him.

"Not really, princess. I kept myself busy."

You smiled. Looking up at him as your hands clasped themselves in front of you.

"Aren't you cold, Your Highness?"

His voiced concern made your heart flutter. You feared he could hear just how fast your heart was beating inside your chest.

"No, I just came from taking a walk with the Crown Prince."

Jungkook kept his gaze on you yet you were aware how something flashed in his eyes at the mention of your future husband. It was there in those dark orbs you loved to get yourself lost into, a second in which he let his emotions take control over him. Where he was vulnerable to your watchful eyes.

But it was gone as you blinked. He gave you no time to question whatever you had seen in his gaze as he asked you next.

"Are you ready for your wedding day?"

The atmosphere turned sombre. As if clouds had hidden the sun of a summer day during tea time. Soft snowflakes began falling from the darkening skies in a soft motion. Delicately even.

"You know I'm not. How could I?"

The smile that once adorned Jungkook's handsome features was now gone. A sad look covered his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that."

You took a deep breath. The little bubble of happiness and freedom he provided was now popped and you were brought to the harsh reality. You didn't say anything but you could feel his eyes on you as the both of you walked slowly through your private gardens.

The playful and innocent mood like a summer breeze had been clouded by the cold winds of winter. Of reality.

You are getting married tomorrow. Your stomach was churning every now and then with nerves. With fear of the unknown territory you were forced to step into. Your hands were sweating despite the coldness in your room. The thick robes that dressed you did little to keep you away from the coldness to seep into your bones.

You had been waiting for Jungkook all day. You had sent a hidden message to him where you asked him if he could come to your gardens that evening. You wanted to tell him something. A thought that hadn't left your mind for the last two days.

You were ready to ask him the most ridiculous thing in the world. The most dangerous thing he'd ever do. A part of you just wished he'd accept.

Snow was falling from the sky, dancing in front of you with such delicacy it allowed you to pass the time as you stood in your garden, leaned against the naked tree. A thick robe with white fur at the sleeves kept your body from the cold. Or at least it was supposed to.

A deft sound reached your ears, snow crunching over shoes. A choked breath. You looked at your right, past the tree and toward the furthest wall that kept your garden private only to spot him standing up from a crouching position. Jungkook.

Your Jungkook.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight of him as he walked towards you. He was dressed in equally heavy clothing. A long cape draped over his shoulders, trailing behind him as he walked over the snow-covered ground to get to where you stood.

"You came."

You breathed out. Not really believing he was standing there, in front of you when you were literally getting married tomorrow.

"You called."

Jungkook answered. A fond smile was painted over his pink lips. His eyes twinkled with happiness upon seeing you. His hand reached forward in an unconscious manner. But he paused his motion before his palm graced your cheeks with his loving touch.

He lowered his arm and cleared his throat. Speaking once more to break the silence that fell between you two.

"I will not ask how you managed to send that note to me, Princess."

You let out a short laugh, blessing his ears with such pure sound. A melody his heart cherished more than life itself.

"I have my ways, Officer Jeon."

He snorted at that, his frame relaxing in your presence as he leaned his side to the tree. His eyes never leaving your own.

"Can't you call me by my name, Jungkook? Just once?"

Your plea made his eyes harden. You asked for the impossible but you desired more than oxygen to hear your name in his voice. That sweet voice that lived in your mind rent-free. That would console you in your memories when you were sad and would bring a smile upon your face in the most random times of the day.

"I cannot, Your Highness. It is against His Majesty's order to address you improperly."

You frowned.

"Even if I am asking you that?"

He sighed. A hand running though his dark hair. How you wish you could run your own hands through his locks. You could bet on your life they were as soft as cotton.

"I can't, princess. I'm sorry."

Silence stretched between you both. Somehow, the air felt colder, breathing got more challenging upon your rejected request.

"Why did you want to see me? Did you miss me that much?"

Jungkook said, trying to lighten the mood. A playful smirk over his lips. You looked up at him, your eyes as transparent as the lake's water; revealing your soul.

"I don't know if you'll want to speak to me after I say what's been on my mind for the last two days."

He lifted an eyebrow at your response. Curiosity got the best of him as he took a step away from the tree, now standing fully in front of you. The soft snow continues to dance around you.

"It can't be that bad, now can it? Just tell me, Princess."

You took a deep breath, your pulse quickening. This was it. The opportunity to speak your mind. To reveal your most intimate desire to him.

"I don't want to get married, Jungkook. I don't want to marry the Crown Prince. Jimin is worthy of the throne but... I don't love him."

He remained silent. His eyes turned from playful to serious the moment you mentioned your marriage. And he listened. He listened with all his attention to each word that left your lips.

"I can't marry a man I don't love. I want... I want to be with you. It is you who I want to marry, to spend the rest of my time with. Only you can make me happy, Jungkook and it breaks my heart every time I am reminded you won't be at the other end of the altar tomorrow."

Tears began to cloud your vision. But you tried to blink them back. This was what you had been trying to say to him. Yet your most desired thing in the word was still to get revealed.

"I want to leave, I want to leave this place, Kookie. I don't want to be a princess if it means I cannot be yours entirely. I burn for you, in every extent of the word. I cannot breathe when you are not near, I cannot think when I cannot see you close to me. You are everything to me."

A lump began forming in his throat. He felt exactly the same. Jungkook was glad you spoke of this first, you revealed your soul to him, your thoughts, your heart. You needed him. You lived with him, for him. It'd be a pointless life if you couldn't share it with him, he saw that now.

But the surprise when he heard you next couldn't be hidden even if he had wished to do so.

"I want to run away with you, Jungkook. "

He gasped as he tried to control his tears from falling. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought of that. On multiple occasions actually. But he had never dared to speak of such things out loud. But now, you had said it, you had expressed such a wish you had to be with him that his heart roared with happiness while at the same time constricted with pain.

"You can't. I can never do that to you, Princess."

Tears began to roll down your cheeks. You could no longer hold them. You could no longer pretend. Your heart broke with his response. Yet you knew, you knew it was ridiculous to even think about it yet it still hurt. It hurt so much you began to feel a physical pain in your chest. As if someone was crushing your heart with their hands.

"I'm so sorry."

Jungkook said. A choked apology painted with his own sadness. He could only whisper the words. He was hurting inside too because he wished to take you away from the palace. He wished to make you his wife. He wished to spend the rest of his life by your side.

But that was it. They were only wishes. And he knew that. Perhaps he had to remind you this time that whatever the two of you had couldn't go further. It was destined to be like this.

"It is now what is best for you, Princess. Believe me."

His words carried the heaviness of his soul and you had to bite your bottom lip to suppress a sob. Jungkook had just killed the last spark you had to be happy. You didn't blame him though. You couldn't.

"How can you know what is best for me? I am dying everyday when I am not with you!"

The desperation in your voice made his own tears roll down his pale cheeks.

"Don't say that, please don't say that. I know I can never be compared to him, I could never give you what he can or protect you the way he can. But even in this twisted game, I need you to know that I love you with all my being, soul and heart."

His heart clenched when those words left his lips yet he knew he had to say them, say them and let you go.

"Then why are you hurting me like this? Why can't we leave this place together and be happy for once in our lives?"

Your tears rolled down your cheeks like endless rivers of pain. It was too much, too much to take in, too much to accept. He sighed, hating the way he was making you feel, hating the circumstances you both were in.

"Because I love you too much to cage you with me. You have to live as the princess of Gyeongdong, our future queen and I am forced to live like your royal guard. Nothing less, nothing more."

He turned around, feeling how each of your cries were like arrows being fired to his heart, no physical wound could ever be compared to this emotional pain he was feeling. However, he knew it was necessary.

"But I love you, Jungkook! I could never love him the way I love you."

He turned around, a sad smile over his lips as his own big eyes were moisturised with the salty water of sadness. You had declared your love for him in a last attempt to convince him. To let him know how much you wanted him, needed him.

"I'm glad I can hold that part of your heart, princess. Perhaps... in another lifetime we'll be able to be together."

You sniffled, hating the title he used to refer to you. If you weren't a princess, if you weren't the future queen of Gyeongdong, then you would have been his for a long time now. But fate was cruel and now, you both were left with a wounded heart as it bled with the remains of your love.

"Yes, and I will always be waiting for you. In each life until we meet again."

You whispered, unable to raise your voice a bit more. Jungkook looked at your broken figure, you were trying so hard to keep your tears at bay, to not break down in front of him unaware of the pain he was feeling himself.

"I'm sorry."

He said, taking a step back. He had to leave, otherwise he knew he would accept your suggestion, he would run away with you and selfishly make you live a life you didn't deserve while also being in the constant fear of being found.

You didn't deserve that.

He didn't deserve that.

Hence, even Jimin, the Crown Prince, didn't deserve to be left at the altar tomorrow.

It was fate. Destiny. A cruel fate, yes. But fate nonetheless. And there was nothing he could do to change it.

"I'm sorry too, Jungkook. So so sorry."

Silent tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped off his chin, landing on the soft snow at his feet.

"Love knows no chains, Princess."

Jungkook took another step back, and then another and another. He had to leave. He couldn't console you, he couldn't stay, he couldn't take you away, he couldn't make you his.

Without another word, he climbed up the wall and jumped off, he landed on the opposite garden. He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and letting his pain go in the way of his tears, crystallising into beautiful pearls of sadness.

The moment Jungkook was gone from your garden, you fell down on your knees. The skirts of your dress and coat puffed out at the motion but you could only cry. You let the sobs leave your throat as a hand clutched your chest where you felt as if someone had pierced your heart with an invisible dagger and twisted it with every sob that left you.

"But I love you, Jungkook."

You said between sobs. Crying your pain out. Lamenting the cruel fate you were forced to live. The snowflakes danced around you, the sky crying for your damned fate. Unaware that Jungkook had heard the noise of your suffering.

His own heart clenching with your words said in the midst of dark pain.

When night fell over Gyeongdong that night, Jungkook couldn't sleep. His mind kept replaying the conversation he had with you in your private gardens. His heart ached when he remembered the crystalline tears that rolled down your cheeks.

He didn't deserve those tears.

He didn't deserve your time. Your devotion. Your love.

You were a princess, future Queen of a powerful kingdom and he was only him. Jeon Jungkook. A royal guard that was tasked to protect you. If only he had known his feelings would bring you such pain he would have kept silent.

If only he knew you would one day, desire with all your heart to escape with him and leave your luxurious life behind in a closed chapter, he would have never spoken to you that summer day in the boat. Those days that seemed to be centuries apart.

But was it fair for him to desire you as much as you did?

Was he sinning for wanting you?

He knew you were far from his reach yet he still fell for your charm. You were about to be trapped in a one-sided love, an arranged marriage you didn't want but he knew, if he dared to take you away, he would only be able to give you a life full of fear. Always expecting to be found.

And as he had thought before, you didn't deserve that. Fate was cruel in making you both lovers. The love that bloomed between you two was forbidden. A love that never should have happened. A cursed love.

Jungkook turned on his side while he laid in his bedding. His doe eyes reflected the stars sparkling in the sky. The cool air kissed his skin as it entered his room through the opened window.

His heart ached. His soul missed you. His hands itched with the need of touching you. But even when he was drowning in his own sadness, he couldn't cry.

Not anymore.

His tears were gone. And Jungkook knew his life was going to be submerged in an eternal winter, living in days without tears.

You stood behind the double closed doors of the throne hall. Your heart pounding in your chest. It was today. Your wedding day. You were getting married to a lovely man that would respect you and love you until his last breath but you didn't love him.

Jungkook had made it clear yesterday that he loved you, yes of course he did. But perhaps his love wasn't strong enough to rescue you from the fate you were forced to live.

You took a deep breath, the doors opened and you began to walk down the path covered in petals. The ministers and nobles in the room stood up in your presence but you didn't care. Your eyes were focused on the steps you took.

Don't trip, don't trip, don't trip...

"We welcome today the Crown Prince and Crown Princess as they are to be united by marriage, sharing the throne as one."

You lifted your eyes, meeting the ones of your fiance. His sweet gaze made a soft smile appear on your face. You weren't going to ruin his wedding day. Jimin was happy, you'll try to be too.

"His Majesty, sixth king of the Gyeongdong dynasty gives the crown to his daughter, Crown Princess Lee (y/n) and her fiance Crown Prince Park Jimin. May the ceremony commence."

The eunuch announced. Jungkook watched you from afar. He watched as Jimin held your hands and promised to be your rightful husband as well as an honourable ruler to the kingdom.

He watched as your eyes were trained on the man that was to become your husband. How he wished it was him in place of the prince. How he wished this was all different.

His fists clenched beside him, lip drawn in between his teeth as he watched you become another man's woman. But then again, were you his to begin with?

"You are glaring."

Yoongi's voice came in a whisper to his right. But Jungkook couldn't care if he was glaring or not. He found he had already lived through a similar situation but before his thoughts got further into his memories, Yoongi said once more as a sigh escaped his lips. He kept his voice low.

"You love her, don't you?"

The younger man turned to look at his superior. His eyes ghosted with salty tears. Yoongi put a hand over Jungkook's shoulder as his eyes looked forward to where you and Jimin stood in front of the throne. The words of the king drowning down as he said once more.

"You don't have to say anything, Jungkook. I've known for a while now."

"Why didn't you say something?"

Asked your royal guard, feeling how his heart constricted; of sadness or stress he could no longer tell.

"I'm not sure. Something kept me quiet."

The ceremony continued, no more words were exchanged between the two men. A part of Jungkook's heart felt lighter that his secret was not only his to carry anymore. Yoongi was more than his Captain, he was a friend. A close friend at that. Making the weight of his silenced love less heavy over his soul.

You stood in front of Jimin. Both of your hands were held by his own in front of you. There was a soft smile over his plump lips. A happy smile. You were finally becoming his wife. He held immense pride in calling you his bride but now, you were to become his forever and the young prince couldn't be happier.

All because he loved you.

Wholeheartedly.

Entirely.

Purely.

In a way as innocent as love itself. As crystal clear like a summer drizzle drenching the palace gardens. As transparent as his own intentions when it came to love. To you.

You felt all the eyes of the ministers and nobles on you. A part of you was used to the attention and now you had to prepare yourself for the attention that was going to fall over you as the Queen. It was your destiny. This was the reason why you were born. To marry and give your husband an heir.

That was your purpose in life.

That was what you had been taught since a young age.

But despite that sense of duty engraved in your mind, your heart only yearned for one thing. A thing you were never going to have. At least not in this lifetime.

Even when you felt observed by many important people, only his gaze burned you. You could only feel Jungkook's eyes on you. Only he was able to penetrate the walls society had built around you.

Only he was able to see you.

"Today, I step from the throne. Today, a new generation will arise in the horizon for Gyeongdong's greatness. Today, we welcome His Majesty Park Jimin, King of Gyeongdong and his wife, Her Majesty Lee (y/n), Queen of Gyeongdong."

Your father voiced out and stepped aside. There was a proud smile over his face. He had accomplished his mission to find you the better suitor to carry his bloodline and produce an heir. A prince to the dynasty.

Your attention focused on Jimin, he was smiling widely at you and you smiled too. The best you could do.

"My Queen."

He let go of one of your hands, the both of you facing the ministers and nobles as they bowed down at the two of you, their foreheads touching the ground under their feet as they chanted over and over again.

"Long live the king and queen of Gyeongdong!"

"Long live the king and queen of Gyeongdong!"

"Long live the king and queen of Gyeongdong!"

Over and over were those words repeated. They resonated through the palace walls, in your head. Engraved in your memories. You were the Queen. The place your mother once occupied next to your father.

Your eyes drifted to where Jungkook kneeled to you and your new husband. His eyes were glued to you, a sad gleam reflected in his doe eyes. Your heart clenched. Your own eyes watered.

That was the moment when you truly realised you both were from different worlds. He would have never been able to stand where Jimin stood right now. Nor would you ever be able to be his.

Fate was cruel. It created soulmates that were forbidden to love. A heartbroken couple. Lovers who were never meant to love.

Were you cursed?

Destined to live in a one-sided marriage while your heart belonged to another man?

It looked like it. All your life would be spent with your heart beating for Jungkook. Your mind was plagued by his memories, his existence. His reflection in your soul.

You and Jimin began walking forward, through the middle of the throne room. Your hand was clasped tightly in his. You could practically feel Jimin's happiness radiating from him that you couldn’t fight the small smile that painted over your own lips covered in red lipstick.

The double doors opened and you were greeted by the villagers shouting in happiness, welcoming their new king and queen as they were all granted access to the royal entrance while you were inside, making a promise that broke your heart to a man that loved you as ardently as you loved another one.

Cheers from the villagers were heard, some of them were clapping, others were chanting things you could barely make out in the midst of the crowd. But they were happy. They genuinely were.

You only wished you could fulfil your duty accordingly and not disappoint the beautiful people of your kingdom. It was, after all, a heavy weight over your shoulders you had been carrying since the day you can remember.

Jungkook watched you from where he was, having already stood up from his crouching position. He watched from the back, your hand tightly grasped in your husband's hold. The people cheered for you both and he was happy. Or at least a part of him was.

This was where you belonged. This was the world you were born into. This was your destiny.

"I will always be waiting for you. In each life until we meet again."

The words you said to him yesterday resonated in his mind. Perhaps he wasn't able to have you in this lifetime, but he'd be damned to hell if he didn't search for you in the next one and the next one and the next one until you could stand by his side and proudly claim yourself as his.

"In another lifetime, princess."

His muttered words got carried by the cold wind that entered the palace, words only meant for you to hear. Taken by the wind, delivered to fate. It was as it was. And as he watched you from afar, Jungkook realised that had been his place all along. Far from you and your world of royalty.

Away from your heart.

That night you were sitting in the middle of a fine bedshift. Red blankets of fine silk rested below you, keeping your body away from the harsh coldness of the wooden floor.

Small candles illuminated the room. Farols made of red paper painted the bedroom crimson. Your clothes were the same, your body hugged in an expensive red dress as a veil of translucent fabric tainted in the same colour as your clothes covered your face.

You were able to see through the veil, golden earrings hung from your lobs and a jade double ring rested on your finger. Your wedding ring.

The jewellery that claimed you as the property of a man. Of the former king of Gyeongdong. Of Jimin.

You were dressed for your husband. Dressed for your wedding night. You weren’t entirely sure what was going to happen once he’d arrive at the bedroom. You were only told that you would have to consummate the marriage. What was beyond those words was out of your knowledge but you couldn’t help but feel nervous nonetheless.

Everything changed in a course of hours. Your mind was still getting used to the idea of being married. Your life had changed so much that day. Your heart ached in your chest at the thought of your lover. Jungkook. How you wished you could see him. If only from afar would suffice but you wanted to be held by him, you wanted his whispered declarations of love for them to be for your ears only.

You wanted him.

You needed him.

But he was out of your reach. He was your denied and forbidden wish. Your clandestine love.

Your thoughts were broken when the door slid open. Eyes snapping toward the looming figure at the entrance. It was your husband. He was dressed in red robes, just like you.

When his eyes fell upon you, he could immediately notice the tension in your body and the air was sour with your nerves. But as gentle as he had always been he approached you. His steps were delicate, silent. As if he were walking on cotton.

Jimin knelt in front of you and grasped your hands in his. The contact made his skin burn, with desire, love, happiness, lust. He burned for you. And it was something he couldn't explain if he was asked about it.

"Only when we are alone will I dare to call you by your name, My Queen."

You swallowed. Noticing how committed he was to the marriage. You could only watch him, not daring to speak a word afraid the innocent moment would break and you'd go back to reality.

"(y/n), dearest (y/n). I cannot describe just how happy you have made me. I could care less about the title now resting over my shoulders but I am the luckiest man alive to have you as my wife. Queen of my heart."

Despite your heart being owned by another man that wasn't your husband, you couldn't help the beat it skipped with his sweet words. He was always sweet, always careful, always mindful. Always perfect.

His hands let go of yours only for later to lift the veil covering your face. Jimin smiled. The realisation dawned on him that you were his wife by name and title, now he was going to make you his in the most sacred and beautiful way that existed.

"We must... we need to consummate the marriage, Queen of mine. I know you may not feel ready for this, but believe me when I tell you it is the best way for me to protect you and your new position."

You knew he was right. You knew he spoke the truth, he'd always will. A lie would never live in his heart, let alone be spoken by his lips.

Always perfect.

You had to become his wife in all the extent of the word, not because he wanted to but because you needed it. It would be the only sense of protection he could give you as his wife in this twisted game of hearts and politics.

You knew he was right. But the heartache stayed. That intimate piece of yourself was going to be taken by the sweetest man alive that was your husband, but he wasn't the man you loved.

"I understand."

Your gaze lowered. Heat rose to your cheeks at the thought of the act. You were inexperienced, you were innocent in the ways of the world. To carnality. To desire. To lust.

Jimin's hand found home under your chin, lifting your gaze back to lock with his own. His honeyed voice reached your ears in sincere words and soft promises.

"I will be careful, I promise. Let me love you, (y/n). Let me protect you. Allow me to become your husband not only by name. Love with me."

There was uncertainty in his voice. He was letting you choose to bond with him. He displayed it like that, at least.

"We must bond tonight, but any other time it will be your choice. Always your choice. I will not force you to do anything you do not want but right now, we must do it. Please."

That pleading, that squeeze of his hand over your own, that begging look he gave you. If your heart was in a different position you would have already said yes. Allowed Jimin to take you, to love you as a man loves his wife.

But you ached at the thought of Jungkook. The man you loved so passionately. You realised he could never be in Jimin's position, he would never ask you to surrender yourself to him in such a way. He loved you too much to ever lay a finger on you like that. He respected you.

He knew his place between your heart and your duties to the kingdom.

You swallowed the lump in your throat that began to form the longer you thought about it. Blinking back the tears that threatened to moisture your eyes, you nodded.

Jimin's hand cradled your cheek so softly as if you were to melt before him as he leaned in to you and pressed his lips over yours. He kissed you. He kissed you in the most sweet and innocent way that ever existed.

His lips felt like feathers over your own, it was soft. Calculated but soft. Just like your husband, just like his soul. It took everything in you to kiss him back, to mould your lips to his own. To close your eyes and take in the feeling.

You had to ignore the screaming of your heart that said it was wrong. You pushed those thoughts away, replacing it with the duty you had with Gyeongdong. You were doing this willingly so that it wouldn't hurt as much as you already knew it would.

The kiss intensified, it heated and you began to feel your body react in ways you had never felt before. Jimin parted from your lips, a smile on his face.

"Let me love you, Queen of my heart. Let me claim you."

You nodded again, almost on instinct. A second barely passed before his lips were on yours again but this time, Jimin cradled the back of your head in his palm as he leaned forward, forcing your body to lay down on the red bedding below you with him on top of you.

That night was filled with fire kisses and burning touches. A night of passion. A night of pain. Darkness drowned the palace, the walls were quiet. The rooms were desolated. As if only you and Jimin existed on that night, your wedding night.

He took you, claimed you, marked you. He made you his that night. You became his wife. There was no turning back. Your marriage had been consummated under the most sacred and intimate act to ever exist. And as you lay next to your husband under the red blankets, your body pressed to his side, you couldn't help the lone tear that escaped your eye.

A tear for your lover.

A tear that was the tip of the iceberg of all your emotions and sadness pooling inside you.

A tear for your fate.

The gardens were illuminated under the moonlight, lanterns decorated the place. Snow reflected the beautiful light like sparkling diamonds scattered over the palace grounds. Thick robes covered your body, protecting it from the harsh cold.

It was late already, the moon kept rising and rising but you couldn't go to sleep. You couldn't allow yourself to dream when your own desires had been crushed by reality. So you stood there, in the middle of the gardens, in the middle of the snow with your heart in your throat.

"You will catch a cold, princess."

That voice. It makes your insides burn and your heart to skip a beat. You hadn't seen Jungkook since your wedding day. You had only caught a glimpse of him throughout the entire day.

It had already been two weeks since that day.

Your stomach twisted with the nerves of facing him, especially now that you had given yourself to another man. But you turned around nonetheless. Your yearning for him was stronger, the need for your eyes to rest over his figure, for his eyes to lock with your own. For you to witness the existence of your love.

You had to blink back tears that clung to your lashes. It was not time to cry, even if it was of sheer happiness upon seeing him. It wasn't time to cry. Not after so much yearning, not after the long hours of the day you had spent missing him. Not after you had been permanently separated from him for the rest of your life, when the little sparks of hope of being together diminished into flickering embers.

It was not time to cry.

"Hello, Jungkook."

He smiled. That sweet smile that made you smile as well. That warming touch of his soul with your own. That cute bunny smile that you desired to see each and every day of your existence.

"Hello, my Queen."

You didn't mind that he had called you "princess" instead of your new title. It would never matter as long as it was Jungkook. How you wished he'd speak your name instead. But that was perhaps asking too much of him.

There were so many things you wanted to tell him. So many questions you wanted to ask him. However, were you in the place to mind such things about him? Not as the Queen but as the woman he loved.

"I've missed you."

If your heart was squeezed a little more at that moment you were sure you were going to die from love. You smiled, a sad smile this time. His declaration does more to you than what meets the eye.

"I've missed you too."

If only you knew the storm of emotions residing under his calm facade, if only you knew the yearning in his heart to have you, if only you knew that tingling in the tips of his fingers to hold your hand; then you wouldn't have stayed quiet about the screams of your own soul.

"What are you doing outside at this hour, Jungkook?"

He untangled his hands from behind him and let them rest by his side, his eyes never leaving yours. Not knowing how his gaze alone was enough to make your heart thump wildly inside you.

"I couldn't sleep. I'll assume you are here because of the same reason."

You nodded, he took a step forward and your breath hitched in your throat. The action of inhaling was already painful as the air was cold, as cold as your neglected heart. Was he really going to take the risk of being this close to you? Another step. Perhaps he was. Then another. He certainly was.

It wasn't until he stood so close to you that you could feel his warm breath dust over your cold cheeks that you silently gasped and took a step back on instinct.

If anyone saw you both, there'd be problems. You didn't want that, not for Jungkook at least.

"And because I missed you. I had to see you. You do not only own this kingdom, you own my heart too and I couldn't live another day without seeing you, my Queen. For you are the one who rules my heart and soul."

You savoured the way his sweet words sprinkled your sour soul with sugar. It was delicious. To think that you were his, that he loved you, that he thought of you, dreamed of you. That he wanted you, perhaps even more strongly than how you wanted him.

You allowed yourself to drown in his sweet words. If only for a moment. Just a moment. A minute. A second would suffice. You didn't ask for more. You didn't want more. The only thing that you needed was his love and he gave it to you on a silver tray.

"Do you really want me that much?"

He nearly flinched at the way your voice was so soft, delicate even. Carrying emotions that were only reflected in your eyes.

"I want you with every fibre of my body and I can't stop thinking about that day. The day when you wanted to leave this place, I only want you to know that if the circumstances had been different, I would have escaped with you but taking you with me only meant death. I would rather die every day for not having you by my side than being the reason for your demise. I love you too much to do that to you."

You didn't realise you were crying until he reached his hand to wipe the tears but you took a step back. Hurt flashed in his eyes and that alone was enough for more tears to roll down your cheeks.

"You can't touch me, Jungkook. Not without the King's permission. Not even in an innocent way."

Your mumbled words reached his ears and he lowered his hand, he clenched it in a tight fist by his side but you didn't notice. Not when your eyes were glued to his own.

"And I understand why you didn't run away with me. I love you too much to get you killed. I'm so sorry I even proposed it for the first time."

His own eyes reflected the sadness in his soul in the form of tears. They glistened under the moonlight, little tears that he refused to let go; to set free.

"Do you really want me that much?"

A question you had already asked. A question he had already answered.

"Do you really want me that much, Jungkook? Even when I am another man's woman?"

He had to physically hold himself back so as to not take another step towards you. It pained him. His feet ached. His heart ached. It was painful to have you so close yet so far away at the same time yet he knew, it had been like that since those warm summer days. Since the very beginning of the forbidden love story you developed with your royal guard.

Even when I am another man's woman...

Those words would repeat themselves in his head until the end of his days. A tear rolled down Jungkook's cheek, the chilly air hitting him and making him shiver.

You weren't his. Not anymore. You had never been his. At least not in this lifetime.

"You could never be tainted for me. You are and will always be perfect to hold my heart in your hands. And in our next life you will be mine, and if not in our next one or our next one after that. "

A smile painted over your lips. A smile tainted with your tears but it was a smile nonetheless. A smile only for him to see.

"I will love you in each of the four seasons, Jungkook. In each lifetime until the world ends or my soul gets destroyed in this vast universe, even in death I will love you."

Winter had settled earlier than usual. As if the universe was frozen with sadness with the untold story of your lost lover. It was ironic even, to a point.

You had not left your bedroom in a few days, not since that night when you met Jungkook in the gardens. You didn't feel like it. It was pointless. Jimin hadn't forced you either, going every afternoon to visit you and chat with you. He always smiled at you while you did your best to be there for him.

He told you in one of his visits that your father had moved to a comfortable home near the mountains. He wanted to be away from the palace life for a bit before returning and spending his last years by your side.

But today was different. Jimin didn't have any news for you this time, instead there was worry burning in his chest as he walked down the large halls of the palace. He could hear the murmurs of the servants and maids as he passed by and they all ducked their heads, bowing at their king.

"They say the Queen has been sick in the mornings..."

"She hasn't left her room..."

"I heard Her Majesty is not taking her meals regularly..."

So many things did the king hear about you, his darling of a wife but he refused to believe in any of them. Not until he has seen it for himself.

The door to your personal quarters slid open and he stepped in. Taking in the scene of you sitting down in the middle of the place, the skirts of your dress puffing out around you. The royal physician was kneeling in front of you. He spotted Hoseok standing at a corner.

Jimin didn't mind the presence of the older man, he knew you both practically grew up together, he was a friend of yours. And a friend of yours was a friend of his.

Hoseok bowed when Jimin entered the room. Your eyes snapped to look upon your husband who stood with utter worry across his handsome and delicate features.

"Is something wrong?"

He asked. You blinked at the man who barged in with panic in his motions.

"I was called by Lord Jung to check on Her Majesty, my King. She has been feeling a bit nauseous this morning."

"Just this morning?"

You looked down and the physician gulped slightly. Tension rose in the room and you wished something would just break it as it was beginning to feel a bit suffocating.

The shuffle of fabric caught your attention, your eyes snapped forward and you saw Jimin sitting in front of you, a soft smile was painted over his lips but you could still read the worry in his dark orbs.

"Have you found out why my Queen has been feeling like that lately?"

Although the question was directed at the physician, his eyes never left yours. One of his hands grabbed your own and he gave you a reassuring squeeze as if saying that everything was going to be alright.

"I have, Your Majesty."

Jimin's attention now focused on the older man, his hand was still holding yours.

"You may speak."

The royal physician took a deep breath as he looked down at his folded hands before letting the words leave his mouth.

"Her Majesty the Queen is with child."

Nothing in the world would have been enough to describe the way the current king of Gyeongdong felt at that exact moment. There were not enough words to write about the happiness reflected all over his features.

"Are you certain?"

The physician looked up at the king, not being able to fight his own smile.

"I am positive, My King. I have never been more sure in my life. Congratulations to you both."

Jimin smiled at you and you couldn't contain the ray of happiness that illuminated your life. Tears gathered in your eyes as you looked at your husband. You were pregnant. Jimin would have an heir to his throne. This was for what you had prepared yourself your entire life and you couldn't help the satisfaction that cursed through your veins.

It has already been five weeks since your wedding day. Five weeks since you gave yourself to your husband. Five weeks since he had seen your body, since he touched you, loved you, worshipped you.

You were no stranger to the product of such marital activities but still, the nervousness that clung to your heart upon the news sinking in that you were, in fact, carrying Jimin's child couldn't be shaken. Not in the slightest.

"Thank you, My Queen."

Jimin brought your hand still clasped in his own up to his lips as he brushed them along your knuckles, giving you a tender kiss. So soft. So innocent. So happy. So full. Just like him.

You could only smile, squeezing your husband's hand in return as you cried happy tears.

If someone from the outside had seen the moment, it could only be described as ethereal. With the golden rays of that sunset drowning the room, a couple smiling to each other and a proud friend who stood behind.

Hoseok watched everything from where he stood. The scene was painted in his brain over a blank canvas of his own memories. It was perfect in and on itself. But if only your best friend had known the deep ache in your heart then his memory of the moment wouldn't be so bright.

"Congratulations, Your Majesty."

Your steps halted when you heard his voice. A big banquet was held to announce your pregnancy to the village. Your father had come to bless you himself, he even told you he'd be staying during the last trimester of the pregnancy as he didn't want to miss the moment his grandchild were to be born.

You could only smile at that thought. But a gulp in your throat upon hearing that voice dissipated the thought, like fog when the sun came out. You turned around, eyes meeting with Jungkook's dark orbs.

A soft smile graced your lips yet he noticed how it didn't reach your eyes.

"Thank you, Jungkook."

There were so many things unsaid between you both. But have words ever been enough? He could see the sadness in your soul, the remorse, the longing and the love that existed in you. How Jungkook wished to go back to those summer days where everything was perfect, where you were happy along with him. Where there existed no such barrier between you two of you being married to another man.

You could see it too, how his posture was tense, his eyes sharp with swirling storms of emotions in his dark gaze. You felt the yearning, the pain, the heartbreak from his part. And it crushed your heart even more for you knew he loved you but Jungkook couldn't step closer to you. Literally and figuratively.

He didn't know what else to say, all the courage he had managed to gather in the ceremony was gone now. Leaving him standing before you. His Queen; owner of his heart.

"I do not wish for this encounter to be like the last one, my queen. I only hope that you find the happiness you deserve for I cannot express how proud I am of you. Your child will resemble you in many ways, I am sure of it."

You wanted to run to him, hold his hand and wipe the tears that threatened to escape his eyes. But you could not. Dare not step such boundaries for his sake.

"You must find your happiness too, Jungkook. Live your life and live it right so that we can meet in our next lifetime."

He nodded, not trusting his voice to speak a syllable. Footsteps were heard down the hallway and he took a step back from you to create a more proper distance between the both of you even if it physically pained him to be apart from you.

The next second Hoseok appeared in your line of vision and with quick steps he approached you before bowing down at you.

"My Queen, His Majesty wishes for you to visit him in his quarters. Many ministers congratulated you on the magnificence of the banquet."

You nodded, straightening your posture while looking at Hoseok with a gentle gaze.

"Please regard them with my appreciation. I shall go and fulfil His Majesty's wish."

Hoseok bowed at you as well as Jungkook when you turned around and walked in the opposite direction of the two men. Feeling how your soul feels more and more desolated the more you separate yourself from Jungkook.

Hosok turned to the younger man, a subtle bow of his head to acknowledge him.

"Officer Jeon."

And with that, he turned around and walked away from the same direction he first approached you two. Jungkook was left on his own, watching as you walked away from him, is this how you felt when he left you in your garden that day? Did it hurt you as much as he was hurting him now to watch you go? Did he cause you that pain?

He sighed, feeling how his chest tightened with the mere idea of you, the memories of you floating in his mind like soft petals in a spring afternoon. Perfect. Beautiful. Mesmerising.

But it wasn't spring. It wasn't summer anymore. The coldness from the winter gripped his heart with its claws, tearing him apart with your absence, with the distance that existed between two lovers that weren't meant to be. At least not in this lifetime.

The doors slid open at your presence, you entered and guards closed the entrance way behind you. Taking a deep breath you walked further into the king's chambers.

"Your Majesty, I am here upon your wish of seeing me."

Jimin came from his adjacent bedroom with a soft smile over his plump lips. You were bowing down at him, hands clasped in front of you. He walked up to where you stood, one of his hands rested on your shoulder while the other lifted your chin, making your gaze meet his in a turbulent storm of emotions.

"Have I not told you to drop the titles when we are alone?"

He asked in an almost teasing way. You smiled softly at him, your heart warming with his softness.

"I'm sorry. Seldom are the times when we get such privacy, Jimin."

His smile widened when his name left your lips. His thump caressed your cheek in a loving way that had you been completely and madly in love with your husband, that sole action would have melted you against him.

You cared for him, you weren't going to lie about your affection toward the man you married, the father of your unborn child but it wasn't love. At least not romantic love. not like the one he held dearly for you in his heart.

"Why did you send for me?"

You asked out of sheer curiosity. Jimin leaned forward, your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his lips grace your forehead with a tender kiss.

"I missed you."

Those words reached you in a whispered way, a secret between you both.

"My days are longer when I cannot see you and my nights are restless when I don't hear your voice."

You looked up at him, losing yourself for a second in his eyes. If only you could love Jimin like he deserved to be loved perhaps your soul wouldn't weigh so much.

"(y/n) you had given me the best gift a man could ever receive."

The hand that rested on your shoulder went to touch your stomach gently, he placed his palm on it and you covered his hand with your own.

"Thank you for wanting me, Jimin."

So many things were left unsaid after that sentence, things you would never be able to tell him or you feared you'd break his heart. And he didn't deserve that because Jimin was the most caring and the gentlest soul you had ever met. He only deserved happiness.

Your hand squeezed his own while offering him a soft smile, he returned the gesture and pressed your body to his own, a hand on your back while the other cradled the back of your neck in a gentle touch. You hugged him back, living in the moment, allowing the sweetness of this fragment of time to engrave in your mind, even when the memory was a cold one you welcomed it with open arms.

For Jimin. Because he deserved happiness. Because you were his source of that feeling. Because your little family would be even bigger in a couple of months. And because you allowed yourself to experience the coldness of reality. So that when your spring arrives, you'd enjoy it to its fullest. Even if said spring came to you in your next life.

Days morphed into weeks, weeks transformed in months. The seasons changed, spring arrived then summer once more. But your soul still shuddered at the thought of your lost love. Your heart was frozen with the love you yearned for. For you it was still winter. It was still cold. It was still difficult. You lived in an eternal winter when the sun shone brightly outside and its rays warmed your skin. The snow in your sadness never left.

The sun was out, it was summer after all. It was warm, soft. Refreshing. Even if it wasn't snowing anymore, your heart lived in a storm of frozen ice. You were already showing, belly swollen with your child. The physician said it was now time to wait until the baby was born and you couldn't wait for it to happen. You wanted to meet the baby and for Jimin to hold his child in his arms.

To give your husband an heir and ensure the dynasty through the bloodline.

You walked through the gardens, the sun kissing your skin. Jimin was by your side. He managed to take a break between council meetings to spend some time with you. He was now more anxious than before, waiting; expecting the day you'd give birth to the future ruler of Gyeongdong.

Jungkook was there too. Keeping his distance from you both. Guarding you, keeping you safe. His heart was also frozen with the love he was denied to have. For the yearning his soul craved. He watched you from afar, like many other times before. He watched you walk alongside your husband, stomach round carrying the king's child.

Jealousy was no longer in his heart. He only felt a yearning, a mourning for what he once had with you. Even if it were just fleeting emotions, longing gazes and butterflies in his stomach. He knew you were the one for him. He loved you. He truly did. With all his heart but it wasn't meant to be. And as much as it pained him, he accepted it.

He embraced the poisonous arrow in his heart like the only thing he had left from you. What should have been a medicine to his misfortunes turned into poison to his heart and soul. Your love did that. Your forbidden love with your royal guard. Your own existence tainted his own core to the point where he could only watch you from afar or that arrow would clutch itself deeper in his being.

"I can't wait for this little one to come out."

Jimin said, his hands were grasped behind his back yet his warm eyes were on you. Showering you in love and adoration you were never able to reciprocate.

"Do you think it will be a boy or a girl?"

You asked out of curiosity, a playful smile over your lips. Even when your heart was wounded, bleeding with the love you were also denied to have, you learned to live your present. Perhaps it wasn't your dream life, but it wasn't bad either. Jimin loved you, and you loved him too. Not like you love Jungkook but he was so sweet, so good to you it was impossible not to love him.

He laughed at your question, the sound was an eerie melody carried by the hot wind.

"I don't know. I just want them to be healthy, Queen of my heart. And I pray that you'll be fine too on the day of our little one's arrival."

You smiled, a hand going over to your belly to caress it with a soft touch. If you had looked at your husband you would have seen the soft gaze he sent your way. It was of pure and absolute adoration.

Suddenly, racing footsteps were heard behind you. Jimin turned around first with you mirroring his action only to be met with Hoseok. He took a deep breath, bowing down to the two of you before speaking.

"My King, Minister Kang has arrived to discuss the topic of the dried lands."

Jimin nodded at Hoseok, his hand found yours as he gave a soft squeeze before he left you in the gardens. You sighed to yourself, watching as your husband walked away with your best friend by his side.

You continued to walk through the gardens, inhaling the clean air, feeling the sun rays on your skin. You bent down to smell some roses near one of the lakes, you smiled. Not really aware of the longing gaze of Jungkook over your figure.

He watched you bloom in spring and shine during summer. It was beautiful. What had he done in his past life to deserve such a gift? To be able to watch over you, protect you and admire your beauty.

Perhaps you weren't his woman, you weren't his to hold and never let go. But he was content with what he had. It was better than nothing and he treasured it so dearly.

You were the Queen of Gyeongdong but you also were the ruler of his heart. Unbreakable. Perfect. Absolutely mesmerising in your own existence. He had put into words his feelings for you, his love for you, his adoration and yearning his soul felt for your own. Not that you'd ever read those letters, it was forbidden. Everything was forbidden in this palace. A golden cage that trapped you with the chains of fate and not even his love was strong enough to break them.

You turned around, a soft smile over your lips. Your eyes locked with his own and in that moment, Jungkook had everything this life could offer him. He felt whole, because despite you not being his woman, he was yours for centuries to come.

The sun bathed you in a golden light that made you look angelical even. His heart fluttered. To his eyes, you were an angel fallen from the skies. As if you had been crafted to perfection. A beautiful spectre of what life was, the flame of love burned in your eyes and your touch held the essence of a royal.

There was a rose in your hand as you smiled at Jungkook. It was a soft smile, nearly shy, that he got to remember those summer days where life seemed perfect. Golden memories that would forever stay with him. He had your love, and that was enough. More than enough.

He watched you turn around, continuing to parade in the large palace gardens. In a way, it was a metaphorical resemblance to how you were so close yet so fat at the same time.

Admirable but untouchable.

His instincts suddenly skyrocketed when he heard you gasp, your form stood frozen in the middle of the garden. Your eyes widened as your hands came to rest on your stomach.

A sharp pain made you gasp as your knees hit the floor, your dress puffing out around you. Jungkook was by your side the next second, concern was written all over his face while worry filled his eyes.

"Your Majesty, what's wrong? Please, talk to me."

You took a deep breath between your gasps and whimpers. Your hand grabbed his in your pain-induced mind, trying to ground yourself onto something, someone.

"I-It hurts... Jungkook, it h-hurts."

Your water broke the next second but you felt as if there was something wrong, this was not how a natural birth was supposed to start.

"Please... something's wrong. It- it hurts so much."

Tears gathered in your eyes as you tried to suppress the scream that threatened to escape your throat. You felt him let go of your hand, positioning his arms beneath your kneeling figure only to be lifted by him the next second.

Your arms circled his neck in instinct as you curled yourself in his hold. Jungkook began walking back to the palace at a fast pace, the weight of your body grounded his mind while at the same time numbed his senses. If you hadn't been in so much pain at that moment you would have noticed how his hands were trembling.

"Hold on, my Queen. You'll be fine, I'm here. It's alright."

He cradled you against his chest firmly, not wanting to let you go ever again now that you were in his arms. His heart feared for your safety, you were only eight months pregnant by now, he knew the risks of pregnancy and Jungkook knew he wouldn't be able to live if something were to happen to you.

Tears soaked his robes, your hand fisted his collar. Your small whimpers were like poisonous needles piercing his heart. It hurt. It pained him to see you in so much distress.

"Hold on, love. Please."

You tried to concentrate on the feeling of his body against your own, the smell that covered his clothes and the strength beneath his hold. Anything to take your mind away from the pain. Even for a second. Jungkook was running by now, going through the many hallways in the large palace, cursing in his mind how big it was.

"Please... make it stop. Please-"

Your words got cut off with a blood-curdling scream resonating through the walls of the palace. That scream made Jungkook's eyes water. He never wished to see you in so much pain, if he could take it all for you he'd do it, in less than a heartbeat.

The loud sound alerted some of the maids and also Hoseok who was walking nearby. He stopped Jungkook and assessed your situation.

"I think Her Majesty is in labour but she said there was something wrong, where should I take her?"

The desperation in Jungkook's voice was evident as it was also noticed by the slightly older man. Your usually cheerful friend now had a frown on his face as he spoke.

"I'll alert His Majesty immediately and send for the midwife. Go to the King's private chambers, they are closer than hers. Don't leave her side, Jungkook."

He nodded as Hoseok walked away. His hands tightened beneath your knees and around your shoulders as he began to walk toward the king's private chamber with some maids close at his feet to help him accommodate you. His heart was being clutched by the merciless claws of fear. Beating harder with each step, with each whimper that escaped you, with the shaking of your body in his arms.

He could only hope you'd be alright, that the midwife would arrive on time. That you'd live. For Jungkook had no purpose in this life if you weren't by his side. There was already enough pain in him, he wouldn't be able to bear the thought of you leaving him for good.

Jimin sat on his throne in the main hall, Minister Kang stood before him alongside Captain Min who kept an eye around the large room. Political affairs were treated there, heavy discussions of the kingdom were held in that very same room. Matters of importance with deep consequences. So many high-ranking officials had been before the young king but now, the topic at hand was interrupted when Hoseok barged into the room, all the attention going to him as he bowed at the king.

"Your Majesty, forgive my rudeness and lack of manners in front of Minister Kang and Captain Min but you are required urgently in your private chambers. The Queen's in labour."

Jimin stood up as worry crossed his delicate features. He descended the stairs that led to the throne rapidly.

"We will reschedule this meeting, Minister. I need to tend to my wife."

The old man only bowed as the king ran out of the room followed by Hoseok and Yoongi. The news of your early labour spread quickly through the palace and the maids and court ladies were scrambling among the halls. Some of them were carrying bowls with water while others had blankets in their arms.

"Did you send for the midwife?"

Asked Jimin, his pace never never faltered as his mind had only one goal: to get to you.

"Yes, my king. She should be here shortly."

That answer registered in your husband's brain like a soft whisper, he only wanted to reach you, hold your hand. To be there for you. But the corridors seemed to never end, turns and turns made his heart twist with nerves.

That is until Jimin heard your screams. He swore his stomach dropped at such a horrific sound. He halted, feeling how his heart clenched with your pain before resuming his pace, this time running down to his room.

The doors to his large bedroom opened harshly, his eyes instantly found your figure laying on his bedding. A maid was at your right, wiping sweat from your forehead and at your left was Jungkook. His hand in your own as you held onto it with a tight grip.

Jimin went to your side, taking the damped towel from the maid as he began to clean your skin with it. His eyes bored into your pained-marked expressions.

"Jungkook."

Yoongi said from the entrance way, the younger one turned to look at him and he watched how Captain Min signalled him to retire himself. Jungkook gave your hand a soft squeeze, resisting the temptation of placing a kiss on your hand as your husband was in the room.

Your royal guard stood up from his crouching position, the motion forced his hand to leave your iron grip and you whimpered at the loss of his touch. But your attention was stolen when Jimin cradled your cheek and your eyes met his own.

Jungkook bowed silently at the both of you before he stood next to Yoongi. Hoseok was preparing more towels with the help of the maids.

"Your place is not next to her."

Yoongi said softly. Only for Jungkook to hear. The midwife arrived the next second, she entered the private chamber and a damsel slid the doors closed. Leaving Yoongi and Jungkook in the corridor with only your screams filling in the silence.

"I'm scared, Jimin."

He swallowed, your eyes were locked with his own as the midwife prepared you for the delivery. His hand held your own as his thumb ran over your knuckles.

"Don't be. I'm here, it will be alright. Think about our baby, think about our child, Queen of my heart. You'll bring our baby to this world. You'll make us a family."

You nodded, a soft smile appeared on your face at his words. A gasp ripped from your lips. You closed your eyes, feeling something foreign move inside you before the baby began to kick inside your womb.

"The baby moved. It moved."

Your other hand gripped the bedding as the hands of the midwife began palming your bump. Her eyes snapped to look at your husband as you tried to suppress your screams while biting your bottom lip.

"My king, the child is not in position to come out."

Your eyes snapped open at her words. Your hand gripped Jimin's in utter fear.

"I must position the baby, Your Majesty, or it could die."

You took a deep breath. Tears gathered in your eyes whether they were from the pain or the fear you didn't know.

"Do it. You must save my child."

The midwife looked at you with sympathy in her eyes.

"It will hurt, My Queen."

Jimin's heart was already shredded into pieces with your pained whimpers and bitter tears.

"(y/n)-"

"Do it."

You cut your husband off, there was a fire in your eyes burning from the deepest part of your soul. You looked at Jimin for a moment offering him a subtle nod before the midwife began palmind your bump once more, this time with precision in strength. You screamed the next second. But you had to endure it. Endure it and survive, endure it and bring your child to the word. Endure it and continue.

Night had fallen over the palace long ago but your screams of pain still resonated among the walls of the royal residence. For what Jungkook could hear, you were having a rather difficult labour and there was nothing in this world that he wanted more than for you to be alright.

He hadn't moved from his spot, his back was pressed against the wall, his eyes lost as his heart ached. Yoongi was also there, not wanting his friend to be alone when his soul was hurting.

The older one had sent notice to your father, informing him of your early labour but he knew it would take some time for him to receive the letter. Especially since he had gone hunting with some other ministers.

"You should go to your room, Jungkook. It's pretty late."

But your lover shook his head at his friend's words. His distress was palpable in his soft features, his eyes big and round were filled with worry and fear for you. For your future, your well-being and your child.

"I will not leave until I know she is alright."

Yoongi sighed, knowing it was pointless to try and convince Jungkook when he had always been a stubborn man since youth. His fate had always been cruel; devastating. And when he had finally found happiness, those warm rays of sun to illuminate his soul, they got covered by thick clouds of a crude winter.

Even when it was summer, in his heart it was snowing with the sorrow, the pain, the fear, the heartbreak, the love, the desires, the dreams and the promises he once made to you. His love. His Queen. The owner of his heart and mind. Empress to his thoughts. Sultana of his existence.

You have to be alright, princess of mine. Please. Be strong.

You let out another scream, pushing and pushing for your child to come into the world.

"Please... make it stop. I can't. I can't... please."

Jimin shushed you silently. Unknowingly to him, a few tears had leaked from his eyes, rolling down his cheeks slowly at the immense pain you were in. If only he could make it disappear, he would. If only... but that possibility didn't exist.

"Come on, my Queen. I see the baby's head. Push, you have to push."

You took a deep breath before pushing, feeling the child leaving your body. You screamed, you cried, you begged. And after an eternal road of pain, you finally heard it. That glorious sound that made you smile through your tears.

The cries of your baby.

Jimin wiped your forehead with a soft rag, gazing into your eyes lovingly as his child's cries filled the bedroom.

"Congratulations, you have a healthy baby boy."

The midwife's words made you let out a soft chuckle, you saw how she passed your son to one of the maids to clean him up. You turned to look at Jimin whose gaze spoke a million words of gratitude and love, of adoration and happiness.

"A boy, Jimin. You have a son."

He smiled at your words, a hand caressed your face softly.

"Thank you, Queen of my heart. You have made me very happy, the happiest man alive. Thank you."

You smiled, his whispered words reached you like a soft poem said softly in a summer evening. Hoseok handed Jimin the baby wrapped up in a soft blanket. Your husband teared up at the sight of his baby boy, so close. A part of him and you, the woman he loved.

"He's so tiny."

He said to no-one in particular. He held him with care, softly yet firm against his chest. Jimin reached down so that you could see him. Tears of your own made their way into your eyes and you didn't hold them back. Happiness bloomed in your heart, like a flower in spring growing amongst the snow.

"Ha-joon. That name means "summer". "Talented". "Handsome." I wish for him to carry that name for he is my eternal summer."

Jimin smiled down at you, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

"I like it. It's beautiful. Park Ha-joon."

You smiled at the name. Your son's name. The moment itself was perfect. So innocent. So soft. So pure.

"My king, should I spread the news that a prince has been born?"

Hoseok asked politely, you looked at him with tired eyes and a grateful smile. Noticing how his sleeves were rolled up, his eyes were tired but he was happy. For you and for your little family.

"Please. Tell everyone that a prince has been born. Park Ha-joon is his name. Tell them. Tell everyone, Hoseok."

Your friend bowed at the king, unable to contain his own radiant smile before he left the private chamber, sliding the door close behind him.

You smiled at your husband, leaning onto his side as your eyes were glued to your baby boy. So tiny, so loved. In a second, the thought of Jungkook crossed your mind and you wished to see him but the exhaustion in your body was stronger than your wish for you fell asleep in your husband's hold with the thought of Jungkook in your mind.

When Hoseok stepped into the corridor he was met with Captain Min and Jungkook. The first one was leaning against the wall while the latter one paced back and forth in the hallway. Jungkook turned to look at Hoseok the moment he heard the door sliding open.

"Her Majesty, Queen (y/n) gave the king a prince. May you share His Majesty's sentiment regarding his son."

Yoongi nodded, a soft smile painted itself over his soft features. A gesture seldom people had seen on the stoic captain. Hoseok began walking down the corridor, the news in his tongue seemed to burn him. But he stopped when the younger man asked in despair. Anxiety marked his words.

"Is she alright? Please tell me she is."

Hoseok faced Jungkook, his eyes bored into the younger one's stressed gaze.

"Queen (y/n) faced a very difficult labour but she is alright now. She needs to rest and gain her strength back. I don't doubt it won't take long for that to happen."

Jungkook bowed down in gratitude to Hoseok, not able to express his thanks verbally as his emotions choked him with their hold on him.

Hoseok rounded a corner, leaving the two men in front of the king's chamber. Jungkook let out a soft sigh, his shoulders dropped down as he could finally relax.

You were alright.

You were alright.

The thought dawned on him and tears of relief gathered in his doe-like eyes. He knew everything was going to be fine. Not perfect for he didn't have you like he wished he could, but you were still here. You were still alive. You still loved him.

Even when winter had frozen those warm days of happiness, you were still there. With him. For him.

October/28/2023

~Masterpost

**I do NOT give my consent for this or any of my works to be posted or translated into any other platforms or languages. 

[extraordinarilyextreme]

Hi Susu!! :D For the fic writer asks: 4, 8, 18 and 19 ^^

hi rose～ thank u for the ask 🫶

4. a story idea you haven't written yet

you know me 😆 there's way too many for yrzx... but i'll talk abt 大理寺少卿游 White Cat Legend instead. i had originally wanted to write a post-canon BingShi fic where LB grieves QQZ and CS grieves CJ because i felt like the ending was just wayyyy too rushed... perhaps i'll still write it one day; just requires me to go back and skim the last couple of eps 🥹

8. if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you'd write one for...

only an echo, i had originally planned it as a whole series anyway 😭 the next installment was going to be how Wang Can becomes Liu Sang (sorry i didn't subscribe to the fanon or maybe it's canon now that they're twins...), and then the third part was how Xiaoge deals with a world where Wu Xie no longer exists... (and then, because i fear i won't ever return to this series, there was going to be a fourth secret conclusion where "Wu Xie" comes back from the dead 🥹 because i only want to write HEs)

18. if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

wow i thought i'd deleted them but let me share a couple...

from 青春归你 | my youth and yours:

“I was the first.” A lump builds in his throat. “Zhuge Qing,” he says. Without entering his Inner Realm, without need for divination: “The first person you fell in love with—was me.”

from 岁月不待人 | the moon and the tides, you and i:

Plus, last he checked, [ZGQ's] relationship status is - indisputably - as single as a dog.

Zhuge Qing was a promise: should Wang Ye fall, he would definitely be caught.

Wang Ye’s rightful place, lonely as it is, is above secular affairs. He doesn’t belong down here among the secular, with the likes of Zhuge Qing, and they both know this. [...] Nevertheless, Wang Ye wants a reason to stay. Wang Ye wanted Zhuge Qing to give him a reason to stay.

“Qing,” Wang Ye says, and like a mimicry of a conversation past, asks, “Are you planning on going back?” There are many ways he can answer this. He can stall the inevitable, play it off with a joke. “Of course I have to go back to work one day.” He can ask plainly, “Between us, aren’t you the one who’s more likely to leave?” Or he can tread into forbidden territory. “Where I go next is irrelevant to you.” He lost long ago. He leaves it up to Wang Ye. “Where do you think I’ll be going?” Something shutters through Wang Ye’s face. He shifts, such that Zhuge Qing’s arm slips off his shoulder. So, here they are again, fated to oppose each other: unable to leave, and unable to be any closer. Maybe it’s the alcohol speaking. But Wang Ye has always been the braver of the two. “Your nature is most similar to the 巽 character: wherever the wind carries you.” His eyes are glassy. Gathering all the gentleness he still possesses, Zhuge Qing says, “You’re the wielder of the Feng Hou Qimen. Any spells I’d want to use, can easily be subdued by you.” Wang Ye works his jaw. Opens his mouth. “I can give you a choice. I can’t choose for you.” “You can’t,” he agrees sadly. “Every person has their own path to walk.” He’s never seen Wang Ye wear such an expression before. Zhuge Qing: he who turned a god into a man. “Wang Ye,” he says. “I’ve already said, you don’t owe me anything.” “You think— You think I’m doing this because I feel like I owe you?” “No. I know you’re not.”

19. the most interesting topic you've researched for a fic

everything i've read for yrzx! (though i remember doing quite a lot of reading for 成化十四年 The Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty back in the day too...)

but for 女人是老虎 | the tigress, the Daoist, for instance, i read this ethnography about a Quanzhen monk to get an idea of what ZLY might be doing in the day-to-day (Herrou, 2010), although he's of a different denomination...

thanks again for sending in an ask!

[polutrope]

Hello! I am no longer in an airport so I can now send this ask!

Please tell me your thoughts on Maedhros + Maglor in "And Love Grew" so far - I am especially interested in Maedhros' perspective on the decision to send Maglor separately with the survivors. These two moments stood out to me (and Hurt Me) and I would like to hear your thoughts on what is going on in that ginger skull.

“Enough!” Maedhros shouted, then nervously glanced at the tent’s thin walls. His hand trembled. With lowered voice, he said, “You suffocate me, that is why. Your displays of remorse shame me.” With this confession, all the defiance burning in Maglor’s breast turned to ash. How long? he thought. How long have you wished to be rid of me?

Maedhros stood upon a hill watching the long caravan of Maglor’s host retreat south: a grey snake winding through the golden fields. The sun curved west behind them. Beyond, the woods of Taur-im-Duinath spread across the horizon like a vast canker. Such, also, was the shape and colour of the future Maedhros foresaw when he searched his heart.

[And Love Grew, WiP, T]

My primary motivation for writing this fic was to answer two questions about Maglor's fostering of Elros and Elrond. The first, and biggest, is how did "love grow"? That's the incentive for the plot of the fic, though I've barely gotten there in 4 chapters, oops. The second is: Why Maglor?

To me, the simplest and most obvious answer is to remove Maedhros (physically; he's ever a shadow over Maglor) from the beginnings of the relationship. Space is made for love to grow because Maedhros wasn't there. So that's narratively why I separated them.

What going on in Maedhros' head? It's a mess, frankly. I started writing a full scene for chapter 1 from his POV and his voice was just too disjointed and bleak to endure. It's either madness or despair, and I think you get a glimpse of the latter is that final paragraph and the way he views the world. At least, some readers told me that lol.

It's not untrue what he says to Maglor, at least not to me (one can read it differently). He does find Maglor suffocating. He envies Maglor's ability to process his grief (perceived ability: Maglor is not processing things very well, either), but it also angers him that Maglor is able (apparently) to distill the magnitude of their situation into something that can be processed. Maglor has become an emotional burden. Meadhros hates himself. He can't stand that Maglor doesn't hate him.

One could also read Maedhros pushing him away as a way to keep Maglor from falling even further with him. But personally I don't think Maedhros is feeling that altruistic at this moment. Maglor's presence upsets him and he wants him gone.

All that being said, I do think Maedhros is right that Maglor is the best person for the job of leading the host of refugees. Although, as he forebodes, being the "best person" at this stage of the Feanorian failure arc doesn't really count for much.

It's complicated. Which is why I'm so stuck with this fic. Thank you for the ask and for reading! It helps nudge my motivation to continue.

[tennessoui]

For the ask game, 5, 18, and 30??

(from this ask game)

ahh thank you for sending these in!!

5. first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP

ok so i have 7 tabs open and all of them are either new chapters or unpublished wips but here is the first sentence of the first tab - and a second sentence for a little bit more context lol:

'Watto has wings, a set that isn’t much to look at but that he’s rather proud of showing off anyway. And because Watto has wings, little Ani cannot, lest he grow up and get ideas.'

(that's wing fic au which i have been meaning to finish and post for forever)

18. If you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

ok so i don't keep my deleted sentences or paragraphs - they are gone with the wind as soon as i don't like them lol BUT i can definitely talk about one of my first draft ideas for a fic that i didn't end up writing which i've definitely talked about before. in foolproof foolhardy, when i started writing what would become the last 2 chapters and the final arc of the story, i was totally sold on the idea that when they're in the ship on the way to their mission they would end up fucking ('to get it out of their system') as a one-time thing and afterwards they can just pretend they don't care about each other at all and the sex would be very angry and bitter except for the moments where they couldn't help but betray their real feelings (aka master skywalker caresses obi-wan's face, obi-wan kisses his pulse, etc etc)

and then during the mission the prince of the planet would be interested in obi-wan in a way that would prove to be Perilous (because obi-wan tries to pretend he can just go back to having fun and sleeping around and so he courts the prince's attention, but it turns out that actually he doesn't want to do that anymore because now he knows how anakin would hold him)

and anakin would do something very dramatic like start a full on war with the planet and or threaten assassination of the prince because hes a jealous lil guy and will use obi-wan's discomfort as cover for his actions without examining the root of the emotions which is in fact love (but twisted)

and then they fuck AGAIN and finally actually talk it all out (but it was already such a long story and that whole mission arc seemed needlessly dramatic when tensions were already high, so they just talked it out the first time they fucked on the ship, which i'm happy with)

30. share a fic you’re especially proud of

ooo interesting question! i definitely feel various amounts of proud of all my fics because of who i was and what i was trying out when i was writing each of them, but i think i'm especially proud of let my love be the knife that implicates me aka the rots compliant fic where obi-wan raises luke on tatooine alone and does as good of a job as he knows how. i just really like the concept of it - where obi-wan deals with his grief by talking about the agony and joy of loving anakin, luke's father, while also still so fresh off of mustafar and the fall of the Jedi, knowing he can only talk about this now because when luke is old enough to remember he shouldn't bear the weight of his secrets....only for luke to remember not the words themselves (about the empire, about sidious, about anakin's betrayal) but the emotion behind them, which was almost always love.

it's a sad fic but it's not so sad that i think it's unreadable and i really am so proud of a lot of the phrases and the pacing of it! mostly because i almost always avoid anything even resembling 'canon compliant' and so this was a really big moment for me lol

[they-lived]

3, 9, 18, 22

THANKS FOR THE ASK I LOVE YOU 💕💕💕

3) how you feel about your current wip

I’m SO into everything I’m writing right now! I find that June/July - January is my peak creative season for some reason and I’m LOVING IT!!! I will be riding the lightning until further notice!

9) start to finish how long did it take to write the last fic you posted?

Currently whumptober has me in a chokehold and I am pretty much writing a chapter or more a day so the last 17 days has taken maybe 20 or so days of writing and editing. As far as my last completed piece. We Don’t Stay Down sat in my drafts for almost six months but I finally found a way to finish it that I was happy with!

18) if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic.

So I do keep them but most often I’m keeping them to repurpose later down the line but I do have this:

Sometimes he feels like this love is a festering wound. Gaping and infected, killing them both with every second that passes. He likes the pain, likes pressing on a bruise so he can feel the soreness and know it’s still there. What they share is sin and spite and he bathes in it like sunlight.

22) do you ever worry about the public reaction to what you’re writing? how do you get past it?

I am a selfish writer this is truly my hobby that I do for me and nobody else. I post it because I don’t want it rotting in my folders and I know that someone out there is enjoying it. I don’t really consider most people when I’m writing though I will think “hell yeah Beth is gonna eat this shit up!” If I have a reader who is as invested as me.

I’d be lying if I said I never think about public perception. Especially when I write dark fic and the like - but it’s kind of negligible in my opinion because if I’m posting something it’s because I have really enjoyed writing it or reading it and want to share that. I’ve been very fortunate that I don’t receive much hate or anything and at the end of the day fandom is a community. In a community you don’t always like everyone and everyone doesn’t always like you but I have the power to curate my experience and make my own music to match to. So yeah long winded explanation complete lol

[real-fragments]

The Piper and the Princesses

This is a short fairytale-style story for @thepenultimateword's fairytale writing challenge. I was given the fairytale combo of the Pied Piper and the Twelve Dancing Princesses, which have an easy meshing point at least.

It's unpolished and it's not been edited very well. I might might it up again later to polish or expand, but for now, here's a second draft.

Thanks, @thepenultimateword, for the challenge and the prompt! :)

Slight trigger warning for description of gore, so please be careful. It's very blink-and-you-miss-it, but it does exist. I've marked the relevant paragraphs with stars, ***like so***. I've put a line explaining the lost paragraphs at the bottom.

enjoy!

-----

this is a story of times long, long ago, in the lands far to the south where it is so cold that nothing grows. in amongst the mountains, there live hardy peoples, who laugh and anger by turns, whose blood is all the fire they need amongst the snow.

in this land was a kingdom, hardy and stubborn, made prosperous by conquest and the tribute of lands much farther north, where the winds blow.

its king was a man of his kingdom, hewn from bare stone and ice, with a countenance that warned away anyone who would cross him, and his wife was wise and gentle, and they wore their crowns proudly.

the king ruled his kingdom well, and the kingdom prospered. the king's young brothers and sisters grew older and had children that the ruler loved as his own. and yet the ruler remained without heirs, and he was much saddened.

it so came to pass one year that a wandering sage, who lived in the mountaintops in penance to his god, away from what the world offered, came to the halls of this ruler, seeking shelter from a storm. the sage was old and bony, with a white beard falling down to his chest. and the ruler's wife counselled him to seek wisdom from this sage, in hopes of his blessing.

the king knew his wife's wisdom, and declared that a feast be thrown for the sage. and the kingdom's finest food and greatest musicians were prepared.

and the king knelt in front of the sage, and uttered words of respect, and entreated him for his blessing. yet the sage did not respond, but gazed upon the ruler calmly. thrice the king asked for the sage's blessing, and thrice the sage remained silent.

***the king flew into a wild rage, as those of his blood do, and smote the sage's head from his body, and landed amongst the musicians, playing jaunty tunes the entire while.

the sage's head then spoke thrice, and laid a curse on the king. . as he wanted an heir, so his wife would never bear child. as his blood was afire, so would it be drowned by water. and as his kingdom grew greater and placed importance in their musicality, so would music be his own downfall.

the musicians stopped playing in fear, and then the king was afraid, and he removed the sage's head from his halls and threw it down the mountains, where it rolled out of sight.***

and the king's two young nephews grew still and cold in their cribs the very next day, and his nieces remained smiling and bright. and as the years passed, the arts of music-making - and indeed the musicians - were removed from the kingdom by force. the king's brothers and sisters gave him only nieces, and no heir ever graced his halls.

and over time the people's voices grew quiet and meek for fear of a melody slipping out, and nary a youth ever grew to know a melody.

the year the king grew old and hoary was the year his wife died. the king, still heirless, was sixty-three; it was the kingdom's twenty-fourth year of dreary existence. his nieces numbered twelve. the oldest was twenty-three, and the youngest five - who could fault her, then, when she heard the piper's music for the first time?

the people of the kingdom now frown at a mention of the twelve lost daughters. they sit back in their homes full of laughter and melody and colour, comfortable, and shake their heads about what a tragedy it all was, and how foolish must the older princesses have been, and how naive the younger ones. if an elder speaks, they speak about the twelve nights of dancing, awed and distrustful.

they do not know what their princesses did.

they do not know that they made a deal.

-------

on the first night, when the youngest princess ran to the musicians' camp, the oldest princess followed after her, shaking, shoeless, sword in inexperienced hand, enchanted by what floated out of the piper's tent. the flautist had taken her in, thinking her to be a lost child, and the harper was teaching her to dance in the shallows of the river.

her older sister pulled her out shrieking and screaming loud enough to wake the forest, half out of her mind the entire while, because the piper's music did not stop and the guards in the castle did not wake and the bears in the forest stayed asleep and the water in the stream sang. it sang like nothing in the kingdom had made a voice before.

or maybe it could have, when she was in her crib, lovely and loving, quiet and calm, before her mother grew quiet and taciturn under her brother's gaze.

the second night, she went herself. her sisters watched her leave, strains of the piper's music in their ears, and the youngest, baby adora, wailed in a thin, high voice until she was bribed with her favourite sweets. she returned wild-eyed, movement jerky, and took a deep breath before she showed them how to purse their lips so that sounds came out that they could not have imagined.

the third night, none of them could be stopped from putting on their shoes and climbing out of their rooms, towards the camp.

---------

by the fifth night, the king had noticed his nieces' newfound jitteriness, their tiredness, the brightness in their eyes. they whispered to each other, and quietened when anyone else drew near. their movements were quick and jerky, not smooth and graceful.

by the sixth night, the oldest princess' mother, who was meek and obedient and graceful, had spoken to her daughter, telling her the story of a sage and a king, and a kingdom without life.

by the seventh night, the princesses' maids had found river-mud on their shoes.

----------

on the ninth night, the princesses could not go to the camp, for guards had been set outside their rooms, and soldiers to remove the rabble-rousers from the kingdom they were not welcome at, in fear of the downfall they would bring.

on the tenth night, the oldest princess spoke to her sisters of the deal she had made with the piper on the second night. she left the decisions to be made up to all of them.

on the eleventh night, the princesses slipped sleeping draught into their guards' drinks, and climbed back out of the castle for the last time.

-------

the princesses reached the riverside at daybreak, packs full of valuables and mementoes, and were hailed as old friends. the musicians were breaking camp, heading towards the wide fields and solid ground in the plains, away from the mad king of the mountains for whom music was death.

the piper's song was full of power as it rose over the treetops, guiding the soldiers to the riverside, only to emerge on the wrong side of the rushing monster that the river had become. in the sway of the song, the princesses grew gills and scales and the power of a tail, and their days of dancing having prepared them, dove under the water.

the soldiers only saw the royal daughters, swaying as if in a trance, falling into the water under a heinous spell, grinning like madmen even as they headed for what must be their deaths.

the kingdom fell into disarray. the king became a shell of himself, dying soon after. in the ensuing years, the life crept back into the kingdom, slowly, under the hand of the regent, the sister of the old king, and life crept back to the kingdom, slowly as a stream grows into a great old river. and when she lay old and content on her deathbed, heirless, the news came to her through story and dance that a young man, a faraway relative, came to claim the kingdom.

what passed between them no one knew, but the new king was bright and cheerful and whistled with joy every day, and was eternally adored.

--------

***the king kills the sage, whose head curses him and his kingdom to have his downfall be music.

[pfhwrittes]

Hi P!

It’s me again the Mr Blobby anon 😬 thank you for braving the buried trauma to answer my silly ask.

I had another thought about what kind of music the boys might’ve listened to in their formative years. I know everyone and their grandmother was listening to Oasis and The Smiths back then and stuff like The Stone Roses and The Verve made it across the pond to us too, but I was wondering if there were any deep cuts that were big locally that maybe the rest of the world wouldn’t really know about?

On a more serious note - I’m writing a fic about the boys and I think I’ve mostly managed to not butcher Soap’s accent and colloquialisms too bad, but I struggle with the rest of them. I feel like I should be writing more of Ghost and Price’s accent but I just don’t know how. With Gaz it’s easier since his accent isn’t as pronounced, but then comes the job of using the right regional slang for everyone and that just sends me into and overwhelming spiral of despair because there’s just so many different regional accents in such a small area 😵‍💫

Do you have any tips or resources for figuring it all out?

p.s. sorry for being the most longest winded anon in the world 🫣

p.p.s. thank you again for all your Brit picking ♡

hi anon! (i'm not calling you mr blobby anon, that just seems mean!) i'm glad my horrified shrieking about mr blobby was entertaining!

i'm going to pop my reply under a read more because i know i'm about to get really long winded!

first up music. personally i have a sneaky headcanon that soap has a secret fondness for tinchy stryder and n-dubz, price is big into the buzzcocks, gaz still loves labrinth and tinie tempah and ghost has a secret fondness for stereophonics.

but as for hidden treasures? paolo nutini, the libertines, razorlight, leona lewis, birdy, professor green, jack johnson, the wombats, snow patrol, emeli sandé, rudimental, the ting-tings, dido, jess glynne.

hopefully amongst my little list there's some artists you haven't heard of before!

now onto the meaty bit, the bit i was immediately excited about discussing with you. i'm going to break it down what you said so i can dedicate proper paragraphs to each character!

"I think I’ve mostly managed to not butcher Soap’s accent and colloquialisms too bad..."

i have 100% faith that you'll be fine with soap's accent. just remember that soap speaks Scots (which is a recognised language) as well as english. an in-game example of this was when he said "away an' boil yer heid!". personally i find listening to clips of Still Game (a glaswegian based scottish sitcom) really helps me to get my ear in for soap's speech patterns BUT remember that it isn't actually confirmed where exactly soap was born and raised in scotland so there is leeway.

just remember don't go too mad with adding Scots words or phrases, a few indications of soap's accent is fine but don't get too heavy handed otherwise it'll be nearly unreadable.

"I feel like I should be writing more of Ghost and Price’s accent but I just don’t know how."

i can completely understand the difficulty with this one!

so canonically ghost is from manchester, however to my ear there isn't much of a manc accent going on when he speaks in-game (which is a crying shame in my opinion)! take a listen to jamie tartt from Ted Lasso to get an idea of what a manc accent sounds like. notably, the -g off -ing sounds are missing and there's a nasal quality (which i LOVE) to the way he says "you" and "me" that sounds more like "ya" and "meh" to my ear.

this link from the university of manchester has some common slang terms used around manchester that might be helpful too!

as for price, according to the CoD wiki he's from herefordshire but his accent has definitely been flattened out to sound more like Received Pronunciation (RP). herefordshire has definitely got a very interesting accent because of where it is geographically in the UK so it has welsh borders, gloucester and west midlands influences to it. my only recommendation for price is to listen to his voice lines and watch the playthroughs (sorry!) to get an idea of his speech patterns.

however, if you wanted to make me very happy you could definitely sprinkle in some of barry sloane's scouse accent (apologies for the link, it's VERY cringey) but don't feel that you have to!

"With Gaz it’s easier since his accent isn’t as pronounced..."

this is actually really interesting to me because gaz sounds SO much like a londoner to my ears (i think i spoke to someone before about gaz's accent and i think i said it was either south london or west london).

as for slang for gaz? i can only recommend that you find some clips of Love Island UK to hear some of the slang phrases he'd use OR listen to the recon by fire mission to get your ear in for his speech patterns (also a very good resource for price's accent too).

i hope my break down of accents and slang has helped just a little bit but if you have any more questions for me i'm more than happy to help! 💜