#this has been on my mind for weeks and now i'm inflicting it on the rest of you

[bohemiandeer]

You know what hits me hard? When 5 to 6 year old children, all the way in Southeast Asia, knows about what's happening in Palestine right now. That children their age is getting bombed, that they're starving to death, that they're getting shot at, and sniped in the head. Because, just this past 2 or so months, I heard some of the little ones in the Kindergarten classes I'm TAing in as an Intern talk about it. Hell, one of the little boys downright said he didn't like Israel, because Israel is bad, because they do scary things. Another was questioning whether Palestine was bad too, because, "why else would they shooting at them?". A little girl in one of my classes doesn't want to finish her food at all, because she wants to save at least half her meat and rice for kids in Palestine, because she heard that, they don't have food. And that's just the ones I remember. Namely the inciting cases before their classmates slowly follow suit. The littles are fricking SCARED. We had to sit these kids down, and tell them that the topic is too mature for them at the moment, that they shouldn't even be concerned because they're KINDERGARTNERS, they're not even old enough to properly understand. The one teacher I was TAing for had to make a class announcement saying that. What gets me is, these are 5 to 6 year olds, the youngest I've worked with in this specific age group is 4. 5 years old on average, and they've already been exposed to the worst horrors genocide has to offer through the news and snippets of conversation among adults and hell, considering how many of them say they like to play games on Mama's phone, or their IPad, even from fricking social media. And the fact that, these literal babies, from all the way in Cambodia, has more empathy in their entire body and soul, than full grown fricking adults have in the nail of their pinky finger, gets me. FFS we as adults could LEARN from them I feel sometimes. I honestly don't know what to feel about it anymore. On the one hand, this is the next generation I'm working with. And if the next generation's default response to a tragedy such as Palestine, is what I've seen come up on occasion so far? Perhaps there's some bloody hope for this world after all. At least in this country. Especially since a majority of them already come from families who survived a genocide. These are the 3rd - 4th generation descendants of those who survived the Khmer Rouge. They've got grandparents at home, who no doubt are more than intimately familiar with what Palestine is going through right now. And it shows.

But on the other, it makes my heart sink because these are CHILDREN, these are LITTLE KIDS, they should be playing with their toys and watching cartoons and talking to their friends about everything from Spiderman to Speakerman to Kuromi and her friends, and be worried about whether or not they can go to playground that day, guranteed they're well behaved, or if Mama remembered to pack in their costume for swimming lessons that week. NOT JUST MY KIDS. But the little ones in Palestine too. They deserve better. They all deserve, so much better. Hell, it's come to the point that whenever I look at my kiddos right now, whether they'd be working in class, playing, doing something as mundane as eating lunch or getting ready for their nap. I think of the children their age in Palestine that didn't even get the chance to survive. I think of the ones whose memories from this age, is nothing but absolute horror and pain, rather than what has slowly become my normal, who never got to experience what my littles do on a daily basis right now.

Children shouldn't even be concerned about "War", about a Genocide. The last thing that should be on a 5 year old's mind, is pain, and suffering, and the worst horrors imaginable ever to be inflicted on a human being. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S INFLICTED, ON OTHER CHILDREN THEIR AGE. And for that alone, the world has failed them. Especially the kids in Palestine who didn't ask for any of this. They just wanted to carry on with life as kids do, the same way as my littles do on a daily basis no doubt, learning, playing, chatting with friends over their favourite cartoons and characters, worrying about whether they'd get to go to the playground or not that day.

I apologize for talking about this on this blog. I know my blog tends to be lighter in feel, a lot more unhinged and light hearted typically. I mean, I'm just a fricking nerd who likes to draw and write, and lurk about her favourite fandoms to consume and support what is shared among other nerds who also like to draw and write. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. About contemplating it, especially since I'll be back on a roll tomorrow, working with my kiddos again after not seeing them for 5 days straight because of Holidays. And, I just had to talk about it. This is something I felt I couldn't keep to myself this time, I don't think my soul'd be able to carry it. I had to talk about it.

FREE PALESTINE. Our children deserve better.

[asumi2020202]

The Right Choice

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader(slight), Daeron Targaryen x reader

Summary: After everything that has happened, you thought he would change. Only for him to inflict a bigger scar as your hope for this marriage vanishes into thin air.

A/n:Thank you for reading.

Alternate ending of: Everything has a Price to Pay

_______________________________ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ__

War was at its peak. It had been almost two weeks since the last time you met Aemond in your shared chambers. Your wounds had healed leaving behind just some aches.

You knew that he didn't speak the truth. The informer of the green, Larys Strong had informed them that Aemond had returned to Harrehal. And that his whore was pregnant with his bastard.

You knew he would do so. You knew he would not be able to keep his word. Because if he truly was faithfully, then he wouldn't had slept with her in the first place.

You didn't really feel anything. You were disappointed,Yes, but you wouldn't hold him back if he did love her. You had your son and your family.

Instead of being dissatisfied with his actions and crying over it, you thought of asking your eldest brother to annul the marriage.

Aemond had broken the gentle girl you once were. The pain and betrayal numbed your mind. No longer did you care of what the others would say.

_________________________________________

Word had been sent to the Red Keep from Harrehal that Prince Aemond would bring back his whore to the Keep.

Your numbed soul hurt. Alicent didn't even want to call him her son but she couldn't deny it.

He had stated that a room should be prepared for... Alys. The name of his whore.

You simply couldn't stand the thought of being with him again. Not when that perpetrator would also stay with his whore inside your very home.

You asked the maids to shift your belongings and your son's to another room. Your mother, the dowager queen had told you to stay with Helaena since Aegon doesn't sleep with her.

She thought that since both of you had the same fate, you could find comfort in each other.

You had agreed. Hastily leaving the room along with your son to find your eldest brother, the king.

_________________________________________

Aemond had landed near the dragon pit. He got off of Vhagar before carefully taking Alys off of Vhagar as well.

Alys had tried to touch Vhagar. Trying to pet her like Aemond does but Vhagar gave a loud and angry growl. And almost tried to bite her before Aemond intervened.

Alys fearful of the dragon, hid behind Aemond.

He turned and saw Moonfyre giving a very angry and loud scream towards them before both the female dragons flew off in the sky.

Aemond, turning his gaze back to Alys, guided her inside.

_________________________________________

As he walked through the garden and inside the corridors, he could see you talking to someone. It was a man. He too had white hair like him and was tall like him.

Aemond asked a passing maid to escort Alys to her room before he saw you coming towards his direction. The man going the opposite direction.

As you tried your hard to walk past Aemond and avoid him, he grabbed your hand.

"Y/n.." he started.

You turned to look at him. He felt a pang of hurt in his chest. Your eyes looked hollow unlike the way it shined when you conversed with the other man.

" It was just one night . I didn't think she would get pregnant. I couldn't leave her there, knowing our enemies might attack any time. I really am guilted. I didn't wish to hurt you love. Please forgive me." He spoke, looking at your face as you looked outside.

"I'm sorry I couldn't satisfy you. That you sought out another woman for pleasure." You said. He was about to speak but you didn't give him the chance.

"From now on you can live with her. I hold no grudge. After all, it is my fault for not being able to hold my husband to myself.

But don't worry you can love her as much you wish from now. You and I will only be related through blood and name, nothing else. I already found someone who will love me."

"My love. I don't understand what you mean. Found another? We are married. I am your husband and you are my wife." He spoke up, hoping you didn't mean what he thought you mean. Anger and jealousy in his voice.

"No longer. I had asked Aegon to annul our marriage after you're raven arrived. And he did so. The whole of kings landing knows of what you did brother. The council has decided that me and my twin will marry each other so I can be relieved of the shame you bestowed upon me. Daeron and I did loved each other before he was sent to old town.

Now that I am no longer bound to you, I am free to marry him and my son does need a father. Aegon assured me that my son will be acknowledged by the people as mine and Daeron's son, as the people haven't seen Aenor yet. You would be wise to not disturb us." You spoke with venom as you walked away.

Annul the marriage? Your twin? When did Daeron return from old town? Aenor will be claimed as Daeron's son. His younger brother.

So many thoughts went around Aemond's head. He had messed up everything just for pleasure. He lost the only who loved him for who he was and now she left him along with his son.

Defeated, he asked a maid to escort him to where Alys was.

_________________________________________

All the family had gathered in the dining hall. Aemond came in and saw everyone already chatting and conversing. His eyes looked for you until they did find you.

In your right sat Helaena, conversing with you. And on your left, in his seat, sat Daeron.. he saw how the two of you held hands and occasionally smiled at each other.

His thoughts were disturbed as he felt a tugging on his arm. It was Alys.

The entire family's laughter and peace was stopped due to the unwanted face in the dining hall.

"Brother. I thought that this hall was only for family, you had been the one to tell me that. And yet you bring some whore here. Aren't you acting hypocritical?" Aegon said. Giving a disgusted look towards Alys.

Aegon noticed your discomfort with Alys present. He knew he treated his wife the same but Helaena was weird to him. Yet you... were his perfect little sister.

Aegon had completely changed after becoming the king. He couldn't quit drinking but he didn't go to brothels.

"Alys will be eating with us from now on. And I suggest you show her some respect." Aemond replied as Alys looked down.

"Suggest? Hah!" Aegon laughed. "Are you trying to intimidate me brother? I am the king. Your whore is of little worth to me." Aegon continued.

"Aegon." Alicent tried to stop her son. She got up from her seat and came around the table at your side and gently placed her hand on your arm.

"I could behead you and whore at once for the shame you brought to the house and my sister." Aegon said as Aemond had nothing to reply with. He only looked at your face as you turned away.

"Guards. Escort prince Aemond and that.... Witch! to their chambers." Aegon ordered as the said people were escorted away.

You looked at Daeron as he offered you a smile which you reciprocated and intertwined your hands together.

_________________________________________

"How could you?! You ruined everything that I had! Just to cover up one lie of yours! You decieved me!!"

"I'm sorry Aemond but I needed money to raise my child! I had to do it. I am sorry if I hurt you.. but I do accept that I never loved you to begin with."

Hurt?! You took everything from me! My child! My wife! My family!.. And now you tell me that... The child is not even mine?!!

Shouting could be heard throughout the castle.

Alys had been secretly seeing and writing to her lover. Not Aemond. Aemond had accidentally seen them kissing when he entered the room.

She confessed that she was pregnant before they even laid with each other. That the child was of her lover's.

Aemond in a fit of rage even slapped her when she told him that she only stayed with him for money to run away with her lover.

Aemond felt betrayed. Just as he felt when his father didn't take his side when he lost his eye. He felt blocked from all sides. Because of his mistake, no one in his family believes him anymore.

He ran out the door as fast as he could. He hastily reached the dragon pit and mounted Vhagar.

He took off to the place where Aegon had been coronated. As got off and pushed through the crowd. Tears flowed from his eye.

There you stood before the crowd. You and Daeron. As the High Septon finished his speech. You lips and palms were already cut. By the time he reached, you two were drinking from the cup.

He saw the way you both kissed eachother so lovingly, the same way he did when you both got married. But now he had to see his brother do that to you.

His mother, the dowager Queen. His brother, the king. His grandsire, the Hand. His sister, the Queen. All stood there and smiled. The crowd were cheering. Yet Aemond felt bitter.

_________________________________________

The Dowager Queen and The Hand had left for the Red Keep along with the King and the Queen.

Daeron was mounting Tessarion and you Moonfyre. Aemond ran to meet you. As he did, you looked down at him.

"It isn't mine. That child isn't mine." Aemond spoke. He was panting, having to run all the way to you.

"Oh that.. I already knew. Helaena told me 2 days after I last met you." You spoke calmly.

"Already knew?" He felt confused.

"Well if my mind serves properly, Helaena told me through her riddle 'The one who he sacrificed for is not his own.' "

Aemond didn't even know what to say, so you spoke for him.

"Brother..... I know it was a mistake you made. I won't blame you for seeking love hence I forgive you for what you did but I don't know if mother will. I am thankful to you." You spoke.

"Why would you thank me for what I did?" Aemond didn't understand what you said.

"I am thankful because for your mistake I was reunited with my twin, my husband. I blindly thought I loved you but it seems that I was wrong. I can only give you one advice... Move on." You said the last sentence coldly, not sparing him even a glance. And with that Moonfyre and Tessarion flew into the sky, roaring from above.

Aemond stood there, his one eye saw your pain and anguish. His tears fell endlessly as he stared into the sky.

_________________________________________

You stood near the corridor of the second floor, staring at the training yard. While your husband, Daeron, cradled your son to his chest.

You turned to your husband as he gently kissed you with one hand cupping your cheek and tilting your head up.

"I am to go get a dragon egg for my little princess." Daeron said as his eyes travel to your stomach.

"Princess? How do you know it'll be a girl? I am betting a barrel of wine that it'll be a boy. Mother's intuition." You replied to your husband, smirking at him.

"Let's see who will win. The father or the mother." Daeron spoke, giving you his kinky smile. You got on your toes to kiss his cheek as you both were leaving for your chambers.

Beknownst to you, Aemond had seen everything you two were doing. He felt hurt. Hurt because he couldn't experience it. Hurt because he saw how happy you were with his brother. He regretted everything he had done that day. The day he laid with the whore.

He saw you both leaving. While he was blinking away his tears, he saw you angle your head a little towards him. He saw you smile and rotate you head back to the front.

He heard you say a sentence before you left with you husband and child. One that completely broke him.

..."I finally made The Right Choice".......

[missnightshade]

❝ TO MEND A SOUL ❞

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Requested: Yes! (I combined two requests into this.)

Summary: When her girlfriend starts to feel uneasy about herself and her place in their relationship, Agatha takes it into her own hands to ensure that her pretty girl is happy again.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort. Mentions of se!f-harm and anxiety (if this is a trigger for you, please, beware. ) Also: english is not my first language.

Word count: 861 (The next one will be bigger.)

The faint but comforting smell of lavender on her clothes were the only thing grounding the young woman's minds. As Agatha's slender fingers traveled down your scalp, the nails running against the top of your head made the dizziness subside. A shaky breath was taken and your whole body shook violently from the mental inflicted pain, taking her piercing blue eyes away from the book she settled on reading for the night.

"Something's brothering you, dear?"

The past few weeks were a plain confusion to her. After three and something years by your side, Agatha has never felt you so far away. And for someone who almost died in the hands of death herself, the situation was too unnerving. Maybe it was because she cared more about you than she cared for her own life. Maybe, the this "maybe" was a certainty, something she had few in her lifetime. She reveled in your happiness, one of the only things that made her truly enjoy life after her son's passing.

And for you, well...Agatha Harkness was no ordinary woman. You knew that coming in. Right of the bat, when she herself was only Agnes, her energywas unmatched. Sure, that version of Agatha was easier to fall in steps with your simple life. A suburban woman from Westview. And now you sat there, cuddle with the bundle of stories that the wordly Salem witch was. Agatha was exceptional in everything. In all the angles you took to merely eye at her, there was something so enlightening to see. How powerful she was. How beautifully those brown cascades would always flow behind her, framing the strong but feminine traits of her face. How those blue eyes could see miles and miles into your soul was a mystery you weren't sure you ready to dissect.

How could she settled with you was a completely unanswered question. One that gained a new depth with her present almost death experience.

You tried to hide your emotions from her, yet again, always. Shaking your head, the smile you gave was far from comfortable. Agatha moved and pulled you gently as you sat upright.

"Your lying abilities have gotten worse." the playfulness was there, but the attention she gave was heartbreaking. "Tell me, pretty girl. What is going on inside this precious mind of yours."

You gaped, words not coming out. The anxiety sunk in, heart hamming against your chest, vibrating in your head. The breath was short, and your lungs ached for more. Her hands rested upon yours, her nails grasping against your skin. Looking at her, you saw her eyes glued to your arms. Your long nails, mindlessly, maimed yourself as deeply as they could. There, along your veins, she recognized the faint lines from your past. Hurtful ones that only she knew about. Never again you tried, not until you draw blood from them again, right in front of her.

It wasn't that bad. Blood didn't scare Agatha, but the fear and sorrow she held as her hand gently parted you from yourself was devastating.

"Talk to me, my love.", she pleaded. "Please."

"I..dont know. It's just been too much." The voice coming from you was unsure, but the blured lines of that meaning had Agatha taken aback.

"What? Whats is?" her voice was gentle, but so much deeper than you've ever heard it.

"I...you. Not you but...me, to you."

As she heard your voice, shattered with a hint of stagnant cries, she held your face between her hands.

"Sweetie, breathe. Let it go. I'm right here to catch you." all the sweetness no one could have from her came crashing down.

"You...how can you be with me, Aggy?" She eyed you intently, thumb catching the first tears as they fell. "You're all - all everyone would ever want. And i'm just...me. Plain. Boring. "

The witch scoffed with a tearful laugh, as if you had the most idiot breakdown. But there was no judgment as she tugged you closer by the sleeves of her own shirt you were wearing.

"Oh, dear. You have no idea how amazing you are and how happy you make me. Y/N/N, look around. I'm building a life with you. After centuries of running, and ploting, scheming. This peace of mind...no one could ever give me that. No one could love me like you do."

The hiccups coming from your mouth made her eyes lock to yours.

"My pretty, pretty girl." her voice traced, full of love. "I love you. Remember, dear, that I've been around for ages. I've seen men rise and fall. I've met my share of people. Yet, I chose you. Y/N, I am choosing you at this moment. Everyday."

The weight of her words paired with how strong her gaze upon yourself was made you crumble. Your body gave into the pain as you were pulled into her. Almost straddling her lap, Agatha's warm embrace grounded you yet again. There were too many sorry you wanted to say, but as she shushed you into a lullaby meant only for your ears, the pieces were mended together. But as you lowered your face into her soft hair, her voice echoed against your left ear.

"Don't ever be afraid of telling me if something is bothering you. I'm yours and you're mine, my love." A soft kiss landed on your neck, lovingly. "You are safe."

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

happy happy birthday i hope you're having a great day 🍾🥳💐

If it's ok i would like to ask for "How can you still trust me after everything I've done?" with 🔥 and a female reader please? Maybe just a little nsfw-ish?

Thank you so much, Anon, for the lovely birthday wishes! I'm sorry this took a while, I hope you still enjoy it! Even though it's much more angsty than actualy NSFW... hope you don't mind that! Thank you!

Source for Pic and Pic

Fighter

Word Count: 4176

Tags: Fem!Reader; Dark!Ace; Angst; Hurt; Sorrow; Ambiguous/Open-ending; Mention of sex; Physical and emotional torture;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: Ace was overtaken by some sort of Darkness and he's very intent on breaking you. You are a fighter, but how long can you last in such an unfair fight?

Notes: This fic was heavily inspired by the song The Fighter by In This Moment. I love this song so much! Please give it a listen, it fits right in.

|Masterlist|

Has it been weeks? Days? Surely not. It can't have been more than one day. A few hours, perhaps? Time seems to stand still. There's no window, no sun, no breeze, and definitely no air! It's suffocating, oppressing, and so full of despair.

The only light comes from a few torches scattered here and there, barely enough to discern if the wet patches on the damp earth below your feet are water or your own blood. 

No, that's not right. 

There's another source of light. A dark flame, so black one would think it came straight from the pits of hell. Where once burned a bright orange, almost golden-like flame, filled with love and laughter, now stands a void of hopelessness and desperation. 

Ace. 

Your Ace. 

No, that's not right again. This is not your Ace. In front of you stands a twisted, cruel version of the man you love. 

“Ready to break, love? Are you well rested?” His voice has the same timbre, but he never wielded it with so much cruelty. The way he uses your nickname rings familiar, but it is nowhere near the same. 

And he's terrifying. 

This Darkness that once was your lover approaches your broken form again, and you wince in preparation. Your arms are numb, and there's blood dripping from where the chains cut into your skin, from your dangled wrists. The bruises on your body paint a yellowish and purple complexion on your soft skin. There are welts and blisters forming as well from the burns he's inflicting on you. 

But what's truly devastating isn't the physical pain this thing is bringing upon you. It's an emotional one. Because the same calloused hands that held you tight with love are now holding you tight with pain, branding you with dark flames, consuming you in all the wrong ways. 

You want to beg for him to stop. 

But you can't stop fighting. 

I will always fall and rise again Your venomous heroine 'Cause I am a survivor Yeah, I am a fighter

“Ace.” You plead again, your words more broken than last time but filled with the same hope. “I know you're in there. I know you can hear me. Come back to me, love. Come back.”

For the briefest of moments, his dark eyes seem to flicker with some sort of light. Your heart skips a beat, and your breath catches in your lungs. 

Then it's gone. 

The Darkness laughs. An inhuman laugh devoid of all the warmth that Ace possesses, devoid of all his light, all his love. It hurts more than a million burns. His hands clutch your neck, squeezing tight until little black dots start to fill your vision, his digits marking new bruises on your battered skin as his lips dangle close to your own, twisted into an animalistic snarl that resembles nothing of your lover. 

“Ace can't hear you, love. He's far gone. I'm all that's left, and I will break you.”

He releases you a moment before you're about to pass out, and your chest heaves, inhaling gulps of damp, stagnant air as your head feels light and empty. 

Then, pain strikes again. 

His dark flames create new burns, his fists bruising and battering. You’re not even sure of what's broken anymore. But nothing too important. No, he doesn't want to kill you.

Not yet, at least. 

I will fall and rise above And in your hate I find love 'Cause I'm a survivor Yeah, I am a fighter

You pass out. Who knows for how long? Your only hope is that Ace is still somewhere inside, and that he's still listening to you. 

He needs to come back. 

Ache settles into your bones and your sore muscles. Your lips are dry and cracked, and thirst holds your tonsils ransom, trapped against your throat. You’re at least glad that you have nothing inside your belly, because the stench of your burning flesh is enough to revolt the strongest stomachs. 

“Oh, here you are again, love. I thought I might have gone a bit too far this time.” His manic chuckle is a far cry from Ace’s giddy laughter. “Oops!” Your lover was never taunting, never cruel, never hurtful. You barely know how to cope with this reality.

One minute he was Ace, and the next he wasn’t. How did it happen? You can’t even remember if it was an enemy Devil Fruit or something else entirely. Whatever it was, it took your Ace away and replaced him with something ugly and dark. 

“Come back, Ace, please.” You keep pleading. Ever since this thing brought you to this damp cave and started torturing you. But Ace doesn’t hear you. Is he still there?

He has to be. It’s far too painful to think he’s gone. 

“You keep pleading for the wrong thing, love. Plead for your life. That’s all.” There’s a gleam in his eyes, but it’s the wrong spark. Where there used to be a boyish amusement, there’s nothing but twisted delight. He’s relishing the fact that he’s slowly breaking you.

And you won’t give him - it - this satisfaction. 

“Remember us, Ace… please.” Maybe if you appeal to his heart, to the shared memories of happy days, he can come back to you. He was always a fighter, never a quitter. It doesn’t have to be different now.

You ignore the twisted and spent part of yourself that assures you that if he could come back, he would’ve already. The Ace you love would never have laid a single finger on you to hurt you. 

This dark Ace takes a step back, his eyes widen, and he stutters. “Remember us?” Maybe it’s working. 

You pull on the chains a bit more, but all that does is make you wince and writhe in pain. They’re too tight, and they’ve been biting at your skin, leaving it tender and bruised since he captured you.

“Yes. I remember us.” His lips pull back into a distorted smile that resembles nothing of the man you love, nor does the freakish sound that follows, an eerie, dark laugh. “I remember this.”

The Darkness steps closer, his hand caressing your cheek while his thumb presses against your lower lip. The other hand traces gentle patterns over your neck and collarbone, a familiarity in the gesture that brings tears to your eyes. It’s a lover's caress, but instead of warmth, all you feel is revulsion. 

This will break you much faster than any other kind of torture. 

I will not hide my face I will not fall from grace I'll walk into the fire, baby

“Do you know what Ace’s first memory of you is?” The Darkness’s tongue peeks out from his mouth as he licks his lips, his dark gaze never leaving yours while tears pool at the corners of your eyes. “Your smile. The way his heart raced when you smiled at him. Such a silly boy with silly dreams. So vulnerable, so in love.”

“Stop. Please stop…” The words are mere whispers as tears finally run freely over your scarred cheeks. These are precious memories, and he’s desecrating them all, turning them into weapons meant to hurt. “Ace… come back.”

“Keep pleading, love. It won’t do you any good, but it will feel so much better when you finally break.” His hand hovers over your breasts and dips lower, settling against your hip as he brushes his thumb against your hip bone. The gesture is intimate, akin to Ace’s touch, but so wrong, so perverse. 

“Do you remember the first time he kissed you?” A cruel laugh echoes in your ears, his deep voice a corrupt mimicry of Ace’s soft tone. “Mighty Portgas D. Ace, a fearsome commander of the Whitebeard Pirates… nervous. A trembling mess of a man, too afraid to get it wrong, scared shitless you would leave him because he didn’t deserve you. He agonised over it for days. Foolish sap.”

You close your eyes as a painful sob claws its way through your chest and up your throat. You try to block the beautiful memory from reaching the surface, but the damage is done. You remember it as clearly as day.

Ace’s flushed, freckled cheeks. A nervous laugh escaping his trembling lips. The way he kept swaying on the tips of his toes, his hand either reaching for you or retreating to his pockets. 

His deep breath before cupping your cheeks with shuddering, too-hot hands, just before his lips collided with yours. The kiss was too tense at first, too clumsy. 

Until you relaxed in his hold and melted into his touch. When you sighed into his lips, he easily took your tongue with his and thoroughly scrambled your brain.

“Stop. Please stop.”

“Why should I? When it produces these sweet, sweet tears.” Clutching your face, he leans in, tongue reaching out and licking a long stripe from your jaw to your temple, collecting all your tears with a cruel sound of delight. 

His hands bruise your neck again, holding tightly, revelling in the way your pulse races against his calloused fingers. 

“Does it hurt, love? To know he once kissed you with such devotion, such tenderness, and now… now all you have is me.” His lips ghost yours and you bite your cheeks hard to keep from sobbing uncontrollably. 

Unsatisfied with your lack of response, he releases your neck, and you gasp for air, but he’s relentless in this cruel game. His hands drop to your waist, pulling you closer. The chains holding you groan and rattle in protest, and you let out a pained whimper. 

“I know exactly how he touched you.” The pressure is the same, his hand feels the same, he smells and looks the same. Your heart aches and weeps, and you grieve because, even though he looks the same, he couldn’t be farther from the man you’re devoted to. 

His fingers trace upwards, brushing your bruised ribs, and you hate how your body reacts to his familiar touch. You can’t control the longing you feel for him any more than you can control the tears streaming down your face. 

“I remember how he vowed to protect you from all harm. How he would much rather die than see you hurt.” The way he drags Ace’s laugh into a twisted, cruel version of it carves a deep abyss of pain within your chest. You know he’s speaking the truth. Ace was always your protector. It would kill him to know what he’s done to you now.

Still…

You’d much rather have him with you, feeling terrible for hurting you, than not having him at all. 

All my life I was afraid to die And now I come alive inside these flames

“Shut up. Stop. Please.” You barely have the strength to plead anymore. This is so much worse than when he was only hurting your body. You can endure physical pain, but not this merciless torture.

“I know exactly how he loved you.” The grip on your waist tightens until it bruises again. “How he watched you sleep in his arms, memorising each freckle, each dimple, each dip and crease of your skin. How he committed your scent to memory to keep himself grounded when he was away from you. How his fingers knew the curves of your body by heart, and how you sounded when you unravelled for him.”

An anguished wail leaves your parted lips as each word he delivers taunts you, breaks you, tears another piece of your heart apart, and tosses it aside, broken and used up. You’ve fought so hard until now, you can’t give up. Not even when all of his words are meant to shatter your resolve, to destroy your soul. 

You need to stay strong and fight for Ace.

“Ace…”

“He loved you so much.” The chains creak and groan as he keeps pulling you, bruising your skin with brutal touches. “And me? Well, I can use that love to completely destroy you.” He collects a tear with an extended finger, his eyes gleaming with malice as you crumble further. “I will change and twist your memories so much that you’ll wish you’d never loved him. Or plead for me to kill you.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “Whichever comes first.”

Each word, each gesture is a reminder of him, of what he used to be. Of what he is, hidden beneath all those layers of malevolence. 

“Remember how he used to touch you like this…” His words trail and linger near your ear as he runs his fingers down your spine in an all-too-familiar gesture. Your body betrays you once more, his touch so akin to home that you arch towards him, a broken whimper leaving your lips as another tear trails down your scorched cheek. 

The Darkness revels in your reaction, drinking every sob, every sound, every twitch like it’s fuel keeping him alive.

“Oh… yes, he loved that sound. All the little noises you made for him, it always drove him half-mad, knowing he was the one responsible for provoking them, for making you come undone beneath his fingers.” 

Another sob claws its way up your throat as a new wave of beautiful memories fills your mind.

“More, Ace, more.”

“Yes, love. You have all of me.” His languid thrusts drove you crazy. Each stroke of his hips hit places that made you see white. He drew pleasure from you as naturally as he drew flames from within himself. 

Moans and whimpers, prayers and pleas. They left your parted lips in an unintelligible litany of muffled, half-drowned words. 

“That’s it, love. Those noises right there, keep ’em coming for me. All for me.”

And then he would kiss you breathless, swallowing everything you had to give him. Taking it all in so he could breathe life back into you again. 

And you loved every second of it.

Now, all those precious memories are tainted. Tainted by his cruel words, tainted by his brutal touch, tainted by his wicked ways. 

And you’re so drained that you don’t know how much more of this you can actually take. 

“And you… do you remember what you whispered to him?” His lips brush against the sensitive spot beneath your ear, and you swallow a gasp, the chains biting harder into your skin, but you’re already numb to that pain. “How you’d tell him you were his, how you would never want to let go of him, you promised him forever.”

Your lower lip trembles helplessly as the Darkness’s voice drags, malice dripping like venom and sticking to your skin, sticky and disgusting. 

“And when he made love to you…” No… no… no… “When he touched you in all the right places…” His hands grasp your sides and climb up slowly, thumbs brushing your nipples as you fight a torrent of tears. “You’d scream his name, crying out for him like he was your whole world.”

This time, the broken sob leaving your lips is soul-crushing, and you feel the weight of it deep in your chest. 

“That’s it, love. Let it all out.” He brushes his lips against yours in a mockery of intimacy. Another familiar gesture, but a malicious travesty of the reality you were used to. “Mourn for him, for the man who is no more. For the one who promised to keep you safe. Grieve for the loss of his soul. Let me hear you break apart.”

It’s too much. It’s all so devastating.

“Stop… please.” Strength is leaving you. The Darkness hurt you before, bleeding you dry, breaking your bones and scarring your flesh. But this violation of your most sacred memories is what finally breaks you. 

You feel yourself slowly slipping away. You will not last much longer. 

Closing your eyes, you let your face fall forward, a silent sign of defeat. “Do you want him back?” He asks, his cold hands cradling your face so you can look him in the eyes. The viciousness that gazes back at you is unfamiliar, cold, and disheartening. 

It’s not your Ace.

“Beg for him, love. Call his name like you used to. It won’t do any good, but it will make victory taste so much better.” His thumbs brush away another batch of tears, and you can’t take it anymore.

“Ace…”

He doesn’t falter. There’s not even a hint of recognition in his dark eyes. He’s gone. 

“He’s gone, love. But he remembers you. How your laugh was able to pull him away from the darkness within himself. How lucky he felt when you kissed him and how worthy you made him feel. Like he was much more than a name, more than the son of a cursed pirate, more than a legacy of a man he hated.”

He presses his forehead against yours, and the intimacy of it is so vivid that, for a moment, you think your Ace is back. 

“Do you know how many sleepless nights he spent with you in his arms? Just listening to your breathing, completely terrified of losing you one day? How he wished he could protect you from everything that would seek to cause you harm? How his fingers traced every inch of you, afraid he’d forget.”

The dread in your chest expands, taking away your breath. The hurt travels down your legs and up your numb arms. Your head feels lighter, and your throat constricts with agony. You need to let go.

“Please… please… stop. Just stop…”

But the Darkness doesn’t relent. “You made him dream of a future he never thought he’d want… of children he vowed never to have. You were his anchor, grounding him in this life, making him feel like he was deserving of happiness.”

His lips hover over yours, hands clutching your face, the pressure building, yet you feel no pain anymore. You can barely think.

“Do you know what the cruellest part is, love?” He pulls back long enough to look into your eyes, a ghost of Ace’s smile painting his lips. “He never got to say goodbye.”

“Make it stop… I’m done…” The whisper that leaves your lips carries more than defeat. It carries a desperate tragedy. How can something so beautiful as the love you shared with Ace be torn into pieces? How can it be dissected with such malice?

“Finally!” He chants in victory as his hands clasp your cheeks again and he presses his lips hard against yours. 

The kiss is bruising, cruel, a mimicry of Ace’s, but yet, still too familiar. It brings with it another litany of relentless sobs that you just can’t keep at bay. His hands slither over your body in a mockery of a caress and they tuck your neck, pressing gently at first, his lips still glued to yours, claiming both your soul and your body to darkness. 

Then his thumbs press hard against the dip of your throat and all the air is cut off from you. You’re suffocating, thrashing silently against both his hold and the icy grip of the chains and you know your time has come.

It’s as tragic as it is poetic that the man who brought love into your life should also bring death; that the one who so easily breathed life into you, can also take your last breath away. 

Whimpers and gasps leave your constricted throat as your feet kick and thrash, but he doesn’t relent. You feel wetness against your cheeks and taste salt in your dried tongue, though the source of those tears is unknown to you. Are they yours, or the Darkness?

Just as you’re slipping away, the hold on your throat falters and the lips pressed against you lose their harshness, they become soft and pliant, warmer for a moment. Then, with a harsh gasp and a step back, Ace cries in agony, his hands clutching his dark locks as his eyes shut firmly.

Air fills your lungs again and you cough, tasting blood with each convulsion. He might not have killed you yet, but he came pretty close. 

“Ace… Ace…” You try, each gasp more breathless than the last, but each new gulp filled with newfound hope. He’s fighting.

Your Ace is fighting.

With another agonised scream, Ace pants, breathlessly. Globs of saliva spew from his gritted teeth as he struggles to open his eyes. Then his gaze lands on you, your name spilling from his lips in raw pain as he assesses your wounds, the wounds he inflicted upon you himself.

“Love… Oh, God, no. What have I done?” With a wobbly step, Ace draws near your body, hands stretched and trembling as he cups your cheeks lovingly. A lone sob breaks through your pursed lips. 

It’s your Ace. It’s his touch. It's unmistakable. 

“Please, please, love. I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.” Each word comes drenched in grief, saturated with misery. Each touch filled with caution and care.

“It’s you… it’s really you.” Your words are mere murmurs and each of them is a fresh new wound on Ace’s heart. Pressing his forehead against yours, he mumbles another supplication.

His arms wrap themselves around your wounded body and you shiver against his familiar touch. The warmth of his breath against your hair and neck comforts you as he holds you close, as if trying to shield you from a damage that’s already been done, from something he caused and can’t take back. “Please, please…”

But you shouldn’t have rejoiced too soon. Ace’s body convulses twice against your own, his touch harsher, his strength doubling and you feel a fresh wave of nausea hitting your senses, disorienting you.

“Ace?”

“No!” Ace growls, burying his face against the curve of your neck. “No!” He cries out again while his scream is muffled against your skin. A sharp, stabbing pain travels up your arm as his teeth sink with a sickening crunch of flesh being broken. 

Ace’s hands, which cradled you lovingly mere moments before, are now harsh and brutal against your frail body. His touch feels too unkind, too hot.

“You can’t have her!” The Darkness roars, pulling Ace’s head back violently, though his grip never falters. “You think she’ll forgive you after all you’ve done?”

You can’t speak, you can’t think, you can’t breathe. Ace’s flames dance in front of you, surrounding him like a sickening halo. They turn from orange to black and to an in between that disorients you. His touch aches, burns and scars. 

“Ace… fight!” You try to plead but your voice is too weak, too feeble and powerless to reach him in a battlefield you're not privy to. This is his fight to win, and you are a mere spectator. 

“You can’t…” He begins, a growl and a roar leave his lips as his arms erupt into a blazing inferno, searing your skin and making you cry out in pain and agony. “You can’t take her from me!” With a final clamor, Ace breaks free from the Darkness and his release is so literal that you can actually hear a loud clatter, like glass being broken while invisible shards fly everywhere. A final flame licks your body with ruthlessness and your broken lament dies with it.

“Love?” Ace’s broken voice barely reaches your ears. He, somehow, removes the harsh chains and the cruel bite is no more, though you can scarcely feel it as he cradles you against his body. “Love, come on, you can’t do this to me…” The tears that fall from his eyes almost hiss as they kiss your scorching skin. “I’m so sorry… I’m sorry… How…?” A broken sob shakes his shoulders as buries his face in your hair. “How can you still trust me after everything I’ve done?”

Ace’s world crumbles as you flutter away from him. Ragged, uneven breaths leaving your lips while your eyelids tremble in a defeated effort to open.

He’s losing you. 

And it’s all his fault. 

“Please don’t leave me. Fight… please. I’ll never let anything hurt you again…” The sorrow in his words weighs heavily in your heart, yet your body doesn’t respond to your will and you can’t seem to reassure him; you can’t tell him you don’t resent him, that it wasn’t his fault, that he doesn’t need to blame himself.

Because if there’s someone who doesn’t need to carry more guilt, it’s Ace. 

And yet, there’s no strength left to let him know that. Your chest heaves one last time and, suddenly, the fight is lost, and there is no clear winner.

Because if there’s someone who deserves all the happiness in the world, it’s Ace. 

“Please, come back. I love you…”

But all the love in the world couldn’t save you. 

All the love in the world couldn’t save him.

A frail wail leaves Ace’s lips as he shuts his eyes in agony, and he almost misses the flicker of hope that makes your chest tremble again while a soft sigh escapes your lips.

I don’t need you to save me ‘Cause I’m a survivor, yeah I am a fighter

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training

[cirqosmos]

Did I, A Side Character Became the Male Lead's Wife?! : Part 2

2023 | 13+ | ONESHOT | YANG JUNGWON × READER | -> PART 1

SUMMARY the male lead was suppose to fall in love with the female lead, and yet how did he even gain an interest in you?! clenching your fist as determination blazes your orbs as you're now far beyond determined to make him dislike you for once and for all.

WC -> 22.5K *⁠.⁠✧♡・ PLAYLIST -> 💌

🎵...BLUEBEARD

"a lady like you, i'm afraid to say, intrigues me very much..." jungwon shots a kittenish wink right through your heart. "be my wife, milady. i'll show you how good I can be for you."

"b-be your wife?!" your features contorted horrendously, along with immense cringing.

this prince. this fucking prince.. no way did he just ask me to be his wife?! your orbs ogled out as his words chanted within the void of your mind, mocking your very efforts to sway this prince away to his land of fairytale, and to where he rightfully belongs.

screw you?!

"i don't want to dance with you, nor be your wife, or for you to be good for me! get. fucking. lost!"

it's safe to say, that you punched a fist right to his face after him spewing such shitty nonsense. that alone adding an nth time of gasps from everyone in the ballroom.

right now, unfortunately, you were sprinting to the long ass hallway without ever looking back. okay let's say you did look back and fortunately no one or neither the prince were chasing after you.

seriously, what has gone wrong with the male lead?! how in the actual fuck he had taken an interest in you? it seems as if every action you did to push him away only pulls him closer. might as well reset yourself from this world if you can.

whining immensely as you recalled your female lead's precious grin, "liz! what has come to my story?!"

yet to your utter disappointment and shock even, the news of the prince literally proposing to you minus the one punch incident had somehow quickly reached the entire nation, everyone and anyone you could think of has been informed of the incident between you and the prince. confirming it totally as you walked through the market with the female lead.

you’ve come to a final conclusion that the prince must have sealed everyone’s lips that was present at that ball, probably for your sake.

"his royal highness has truly taken a liking towards you, milady." liz pulled up a proud smile which had you cringing. like please don't do that, please don't. you weren't supposed to be smiling like this.

"oh god, kindly refrain from uttering that prince's in front of my face, liz. he's nothing but a—" you immediately stopped yourself from spewing shit about the prince as you don't want to ruin liz's perception on him, which would possibly furthering the already inflicted damage on your original story.

you sigh dejectedly, as your eyes lazily gaze somewhere instead. wanting to take off the stress from your chest for a while.

throwing yourself on your bed after an entire day out with liz, you refuse to attend any noble event since you discarded all the invitation letters with the contents consisting of them congratulating you for being the prince's fiancée which had you cringing to your core.

your deadpan look as you threw all of the letters had the maids bringing the tray of food—mortified to say the least.

how couldn't you? those nobles sending in a bunch of letters obviously had traces of malice and envy engraved in those over exaggerated fonts, they are akin to a predator waiting in patience for you—a little lamb to reveal itself as a free buffet.

buffet? wife? where did my comfy life go? where?!

you've decided to hide in the comfort of your manor till this so-called news of you being the prince's fiancée died out. but how long would it take then? would it take a week? a month? oh god, you're wishing it won't have to take that far as you also need a bunch of fresh air.

groaning again you did as you couldn't possibly hid forever too, as the author of this novel; you are fully aware of how you crafted the prince's character, that despite all of the charms and dazzling traits you moulded into him, you've added one specific thing that had him stood out the most and that was he's beyond possessive and obsessed with the female lead as it was rooted from one of his traits; competitive, dedicated and most of the time, he doesn't like to lose and that he had to get what he wanted or else..

chaos it is, and such chaos coming from the prince himself are not to be underestimated.

you are having such an enormous urge to bang your head on your bed right now as how couldn't you? who doesn't want a male lead to live and die for their lover? of course you and your damn adorable readers!

well, fiction isn't to be confused with reality after all. but damn your life for this is your reality now—here in your own very novel.

screw your novel, screw your life, screw reality, screw the prince! you might just as well fall into your slumber now as you try to plan another way to avoid that very prince you crafted.

"milady? would you like to try the new gown we had customised for you from the town's boutique?"

"what? new gown? since when did i ask for you to customise me one?"

"just.. the head maid had asked for it as another letter had arrived from the royal palace, more specifically, the prince himself had asked for your presence for the upcoming ballroom this week."

"nah uh?!" you emphasised in slight irritation. "don't make me repeat this again, juliet. i'd rather have the cup of chocolate i asked you for just now than attend such pointless event."

"but milady!"

"oh dear heavens, my silky and puffy blankets are to be treasured upon my hands—" burying your head in your pillow as your maid had a defeated expression, pouting slightly. lifting your head almost immediately when your maid left, you muttered endlessly to your void or more specifically to the prince. “inviting me for another ballroom, do you think that i’m stupid? now feel free to dance all by your own!—”

a pair of birds chirped in a melodious, and harmonious tone on the edge of the window.

the sun rays peering through the swaying curtains glints against your fluttering eyelashes, causing your orbs to hid behind the shield of your splayed fingers. stretching your arms upwards, a sense of satisfaction surged through your veins—fueling the corners of your lips to pull up in the widest grin.

it been approximately six days since then, with no news nor an invitation had arrived from the prince himself.

it can’t be that you've successfully overturned your fate by not attending the prince's second invitation, squinting mischievously—he must have lose interest in you for not visiting your manor, doesn't he? with his character, he couldn't have possibly had gone that long! he sure would've been tremendously patient regarding political affairs but never at the female lead!

in chapter 16 of your novel, "blooming romances" where you've written the development of their romance that had your reader's heart evaporating into nothingness as they weep under the comment section over how a single sentence you wrote had made them feel so damn single and why they haven't found a guy like the prince yet:

-> a paragraph from chapter 16 ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

after gaining the heart of lady liz; prince jungwon was beyond ecstatic to have another day out with his lover, however alike the eclipse's separation—royal and political affairs had ripped him away from the comfort of his lover's arms. thus, he had been occupied with so much papers within the palace's quarters.

yet as soon as the grey cloak crawled back over the blue sky, pulling the moon back with it—so does the prince himself, leaving the stacked up papers on his desk and appearing before the lady's quarters after much effort climbing onto the firm tree.

wasting not a single breathe, as the apples of his cheeks serving as a physical form of his infatuation towards the lady—the tips of his tongue mellowed in instinct for her, along with his hand that were accustomed to his sword's handle to enveloped beneath her fingers—pressing a lover's vow on the top of her hand through his faint red lips.

"milady, i fear i no longer have the strength to contain myself from letting out a single breath without your presence." his lips ghosted against his lover's ear, "it had my patience crumbling into nothing when you, milady had reigned over my heart."

— was what the male lead had voiced out rather solemnly to his lover, as he couldn't bear to be stay one more night without her presence.

yet it doesn't seem to be that case in yours! fucking good news, finally!

ah! what a joyous occasion! you plopped on the bed with your gathered strength as you giggled like a child. bliss consumed your entire soul with your surging scream alerting the entire manor.

swaying your pillow in a circular frantic motion as you sprinted towards your hallway, "juliet! liz! i'm the happiest person ever in the world— oh jesus, someone hosts a damn buffet and tell everyone in the manor to join!"

"milady!" your grin only grew wider as the sight of juliet sprinting towards your way greeted your eyes.

"juliet! oh dear, you should—"

"milady!" she panted right after falling on your arms. "the— the—"

"hm? why are you sweating so much? what happened?"

taking a deep humongous breath she did before uttering one sentence that had your head, mind, and soul blasting into the ghost quiet vacuum of space.

"the prince— his royal highness has arrived!"

"what?!" your jaw dropped on the ground with dozens of imaginary gigantic mirrors crashing behind you in a comical way as your expressions darkened into utter horror.

🎵. . .WAKE UP

a chirping bright blue bird with its harmonious song apparently had been crashed by a swerving black velvet bird from the sky, resulting in both of them colliding and falling on top of another on the lush green blades, just a few distance away from where the table you and the prince were at.

"why. are. you—i mean his royal highness doing here again? i'm sure i've made it clear that i simply wanted nothing to do with you, didn't i? prince jungwon?" crossing your arms, holding a firm resolution in your foot before the prince as you two sat down for a tea, in the refreshing garden behind your manor.

there he was in his casual royal attire of white ruffled shirt, dark blue bowtie with tiny gems engraved on it. his lush hair bouncing slightly on top of his eyelashes as he blinked a couple of times, and tiny sparkles within those orbs which made him look like a puppy at times but those feline eye shape stood out even more.

"i assume that you require time to think about this matter, milady." jungwon answered, "that's why i stayed behind, for a while, that is."

huh.

are you hearing this correctly? him, this very prince you crafted with little to no patience for his lover—telling you that he waited and desires to not pressure you? what in the humongous sorcery is this?!

"if you think that's gonna make me feel something, then.." you leisurely caressed your cheek, gazing at him lazily. "that's quite dense of you, your highness."

little dimples emerged from his cheeks as his feline eyes twinkled at you. "that's not the only thing i could do, if you—milady, grant me the honour, then there's plenty things of things about me that you haven't explored yet."

as if! you scoffed in the back of your mind, eyes deadpanning as this guy had no clue that he is nothing but a character you crafted! how could you know nothing about him?! heck, you are the one who wrote him this way!

"you see, your highness." you sighed with a pout, "i'm a very busy person, i do not have such leisure time to explore something that is not centred around my interest."

"oh, does it mean that i perhaps don't interest you then, milady?"

"isn't it obvious by now, your majesty? plus, inviting yourself to my residence is nothing close to good manners. as a prince, manners should've been your priority."

jungwon stayed awfully silent after that, eyes looking down as if he was in a deep thought. your eyebrows knitted together, curious as to what he's trying to pull off next. like just give up already, goddamnit.

"regarding manners, how about we tie a pact then, milady?"

"a p-pact?" you frowned deeply at him.

"yes, milady. a pact that would honour both of us, and our wishes." jungwon continued after taking a sip from his teacup. "i wouldn't be able to sit still without pouring an effort for something i desire, what my heart desires." his feline eyes slowly raised to look at yours. "yet milady doesn't hold the same desire as i do, which is quite unfortunate, that is."

"i seriously have no idea what you find so interesting in me?" you shook your head along with a slight scoff, apparently breaking another bead of sweat, unsure of where this was going—definitely not in the way you've dying for.

"i have yet to know, milady. that's the very reason i had the courage to ask for such a bold request from you."

"and what makes you assume i would agree to that?" you raised your left eyebrow.

"i have yet to resort to such foul actions, which i'd rather not to milady."

your blood surged cold through your veins, "are you threatening me?"

"certainly i do not intend it to sound that way, i prefer to keep this as civil as possible as you—milady, truly does has gained my interest and it would truly be vain if i.. wasn't given the chance to prove my worth to you. all i am asking from you milady, is to give me a chance to prove myself for you."

prove himself..?

shit. you hated to admit it. but those words, the way he chose to string his words akin to woven embroidery that was meticulously sewed to perfection—pierced right through your heart strings, causing your ears to heat up. partly because of how truly sincere he sounds, and partly was.. how the fuck did he made it sound good?! you've never thought of such romantic words even after a hundred cups of coffee in your desk!

"and how would you guarantee the eligibility of this pact? that you won't force me against my will?"

"you have my word, milady. if by any chance, i failed to gain your love—i will gladly retreat. that's my promise to you." jungwon leaned in closer as he placed his chin on his right palm. "however, i'll certainly do my very best in this thirty coming days."

mischievous yet determination blazes within those feline eyes of his, which had you realising just how serious he was at pursuing you.

"fine, i'll give you a chance but as a pact requires rules, i'll share some of my own."

"sure go ahead, milady."

"one, do not call me your wife or specifically future wife in front of everyone."

"may i do it personally then—" jungwon shrugged playfully when you hissed at him.

raising your index finger upwards, "two, stay one meter apart." he obliged with much hesitation, "and three, uh. i haven't think of it yet but i'll surely add a third rule. now how about you, your majesty?"

"yes, milady?"

"don't you have any rules you want to add?"

jungwon emitted a giggle as soon as he processed your words, "oh, i don't think i need one. after all, whatever you may wish, shall i grant."

"then, stop chasing me—"

"except that one." his lips pulled up in a mischievous smirk, the sun places a tender kids on the strands of his hair—dripping honey hues on his cheeks which reflected against his feline orbs. "then shall we start the countdown, milady?"

thirty days, it is; for him to pour his entire efforts to gain your heart, while you greatly adamant in your mission to make him lose interest in you and make him fall in love with your precious female lead, liz!

sighing for the horrendous nth time as you stood before the blinding lights of the chandelier on top of the patterned ceiling, it had you remembering your old trip to a renowned palace in the real world back then, and that it had mesmerised you so much you wish to stay there a bit more.

it was also one of the main inspirations for your novel, after all.

that you kind of wish to be able to stay in such a glorious place, and wear exquisite dress, to attend a tea party and meet your own prince charming.

"i see, that this is the lady our prince had taken an interest for?" a middle aged man along with a young lady appeared before you, clearly trying to get your attention.

but now that you are here, it kind of sucks to be fair.

all of that was a mere desire, it was just a temporary part of you that desires to be in such life, not that you'd really want to be in it as you'd rather stay in your room—indulging yourself in the world of your favourite manhwas, that it had you working on your own very novel. having no matters to attend to except for working on your novel 24/7 was pure bliss, and that you'd rather spent reading all your adorable reader's comments over talking with people way too much in reality.

it was probably a way of the deities to pull you out from your dusty old corner which you definitely and would never appreciate as you gave a deadpan look towards the night sky above the glass panes of the ceiling.

"uh?"

"she truly lives up to the rumour, father." the lady snickered behind her lacy hand fan, her eyes held traces of mockery in it.

"i dare say that his royal highness had quite a special taste.."

you tilted your head at them, sighing as you very well know where this is going. of course why wouldn't you? this was the dialogue you created during a crying session after your favourite manhwa ends on a horrible note. opting to torture your characters in your dusty side novel by using this dialogue on them, and later had a beaming idea to recycle it for the female lead's fateful encounter with the nobles.

"if you'd like to keep your tongue, then i advise you to stick it inside. marquess?" goosebumps raised over the back of your neck when the prince appeared, his feline eyes held irritation in it as he stood beside you. "you had no right to speak to my future wife, don't you?"

"i- ap-pologize, your highness!"

"apologize? they say actions speak louder than words, then would you, dear marquess, cut your atrocious tongue for me then?"

the marquess held the need to tear up as the humongous dark aura the prince emitted caused his knees to turn noodles, trembling pathetically.

they all know, just like you do, obviously cause you write them that way—that this prince had not the slightest mercy once provoked, therefore he was greatly feared and will never cease to be so the more he grew up to be a fine young man, and onto his adulthood.

sneakily getting out of the ball after a few royal officials appeared and the prince had no choice but to entertain them. you took the chance to sniffed in a humongous fresh of air into your burning lungs after spending a torturous hours inside.

with the moonlight rays being your fellow companion as you wandered about the royal garden you encountered, your heels made an audible crack sound which causes something from the distance to rustle, you snapped your head at the source of the noise.

yet none was to be seen except for your presence.

a white silhouette, rather tiny in form sprinted in your peripheral vision and before you can turn your head towards it, it was unfortunately gone. then suddenly, it reappeared and only then you notice what it was as your heart immediately form shape of neon hearts.

you caught sight of the tiny snow bunny hopping along the bushes, your eyes shimmered as you approached as slowly as you can. a snow bunny. how adorable?! you cooed as low as you can to avoid scaring the bunny, and to your utter satisfaction, it hops onto your lap. with the biggest grin on your lips—you patted the bunny, indulging yourself in this form of cuteness.

"milady, you're here?"

the snow creature on your lap flinches and hop out of your lap which causes you to sigh at the prince before you. giving him a deadpan look you were itching to do all this time, and now that he's finally here..

"i'm quite sure one of the rules i stated was that you would refrain from calling me.. your wife? didn't we, your highness?"

"forgive me, milady." jungwon shrugged. "such atrocious acts had to be cut off before it grows, and aside from that, what kind of husband would i be if i couldn't do the bare minimum of protecting my wife?"

the tip of your nose was immediately dusted off with rosy hues. another shitty dialogue that you don't know where it came from, that shoots another cupid's bow to your serene heart once again—gritting your teeth as you pull the imaginary arrow out of your heart before it can grow to something worse.

you sighed at him as you placed your attention on the lush garden around you, getting on your knees as you brushed your finger across the florals. “your highness seems too confident, i fear you’ll be utterly heartbroken later.”

“to pursue something requires risk, it is a risk i am willing to take, milady.” jungwon said. “plus, it is not determined yet that i can’t win your heart.”

“hm, sure your highness. feel free to think so, we’ll see that later.” you rolled your eyes. “make sure not to come back crying later, your highness.” you notice the way jungwon’s lips pulled up in the faintest smile.

your eyes exponentially softened at that sight of him, of course seeing your male lead with your own eyes was once in a lifetime opportunity, to see one of your characters that you created with your entire heart and soul came into life and to utter words with their lips engulfed you with complete bliss. yet your heart moans in fear that this smile shouldn't be for you, it was only for the female lead.

you cannot let it grow more than this.

my precious female lead.. liz. poor her, she's definitely having her well deserved sleep after going about the town, helping people in need and such, therefore you had to get this mission done as quick as possible!

for her to indulge in the romances of love!

clenching your fist in full blown determination, you stood back on your feet—the breeze flowing against your gown as you gaze up the moonlit sky and you've gotta admit that the scattering rays the moonlight bestows upon the silent blooming florals had the image of tranquillity, instantly bringing your heart at ease.

but you would never be at ease as long as the prince had his eyes on you.

you turned your attention back to the prince who had been gazing upon the moon as well. despite the prince's back facing you, you could tell that he was deep in thought, remaining silent for quite awhile.

"but keep your hopes low, your highness." you exclaimed with a mild scoff.

"i do and will keep that in mind, milady." jungwon's lips pulled up in a slight smirk. "however, please do keep it in mind too that I will never give up yet."

taken aback by his sheer determination, you folded your arms— "well, let's see!"

jungwon slightly giggles at you, "alright, milady."

damn, author versus character? what an odd combination of a match. he won't give up? sure bring it on! i knew you better than you do, yang jungwon! a total stare down occurs between you and the prince, with a definite goal at mind.

"may i ask why.. is lady liz here with us too, milady?" dumbfounded the prince was in the presence of the lady, he surely didn't expect that right?!

hah! jokes on you, yang jungwon! you suppressed the need to smirk as the very fact was you sneakily inviting liz without the prince's knowledge which resulted in all of you three seated down for a tea party in this round table; with you in the middle, as you purposely had the prince facing the female lead in the hopes that they could lock eyes and for it to cause immense spark between them!

ah, what a sight! you couldn't help it but fangirl really hard over them, cause how couldn't you?! it's like a matchmaking session and you, obviously the cupid!

"i assume there's nothing to be curious about, as this was the pact, isn't your highness? i could bring whoever i please."

"yes indeed, but.. the pact.." jungwon pauses, then pulls a tiny smile all reserved for you. "never mind it, i had been granted the honour to be invited to the lady's manor, how ungrateful would i be if i couldn't satisfy your wishes, milady." he continues as he turns his fluttering eyes at liz. "lady liz, it's my pleasure to meet you."

"so am i, your highness."

yes! yes! freaking finally, did he turned his damn head over the female lead! you got this, you were beyond sceptical at agreeing with the pact at first but now that you've seen it before your eyes, you could make the prince fall for the female lead whenever it's your turn to invite the prince!

this is truly a blessing in disguise!

make him fall in love with her, bit by bit, till his interest in you slowly divert into the female lead before his eyes. simple it is! just make sure she's always in his line of vision, so that his heart would truly realise who it was beating for this entire time.

oh dear prince, look ahead and see the perfect lady that was meant for you! for if you still refuse to do so, i'll gladly force your damn eyes to look towards her!mission start!

"so, liz." you grin with your chins on top of your interlaced hands. "i heard you're planning to hold a feast banquet for the people in the town, i forgot but perhaps it would be held a week later?" your eyes darted over the prince to examine his reaction, yet his eyes lingered over anywhere but liz, seemingly not paying attention.

your eyes twitches in disbelief. damnit, give me some reaction, will you? liz, our precious is helping the goddamn country. your goddamn corrupted country!

"what do you say, your highness?" you asked with raised eyebrows.

"that's certainly virtuous of you, lady liz." jungwon smiled as he took a sip from his teacup, his eyebrows furrowing for a moment. "the royal nobles couldn't be compared with you, honestly."

"thank you, your highness. you're flattering me way too much."

"no, i say what needs to be said. unlike you, the nobles are greedy and selfish, often catering to their own personal needs. it tends to irritate me that i couldn't do anything yet with my current status."

"that's certainly unfortunate, however i'm sure your majesty could overturn the tables soon." liz sympathised. "what's important for us to do right now is to help more people in need."

"a nation definitely would need a reigning queen like you, lady liz."

liz covered her mouth with her handkerchief, "once again, you're flattering me, your highness. i do not think i'm capable of such a crown."

"yet your humility and kindness surpassed all, i may say. it is certainly the qualities of a queen."

"it is always my pleasure to help people in need.. but if fate persists, then i would gladly take the chance."

jungwon emitted a slight giggle, a tender smile forming in his lips. "that's fascinating of you, lady liz. is there anything you had an interest for other than helping people?"

"hm, i adore looking after birds, they're my precious friends that tend to help me more than i could count, your highness. and at times, i practise the art of embroidery.."

jungwon's eyes beamed at that particular word and it didn't go unnoticed by your eyes forming countless neon heart shapes as you watched them converse with each other, heart quenching in top fangirling mode as if they were truly a match made for each other!

aaah, my favourite couple!

an enchanting frame of them conversing with each other should be immediately turn into them slipping in wedding rings into each other’s finger! what a lovely sight indeed!

"how about you, lady (name)? is there anything you in particular liked about?"

"uh-?" your fangirling mode switches off when both of their attention are now on you.

"i'm curious about you, milady." jungwon tilted his head at you, curiosity glazed across his feline orbs as he leaned back on the chair in a leisurely manner.

you could freaking imagine the long ass arrow of his concentration fixating on you. freak, i thought you were already falling in love with liz!

you held the need to snort, and you actually missed how liz blushed over the prince's gesture towards you, secretly fangirling inside her rampant heart.

"w-what is there else to know about me?" you held the need to cringe.

"like stuff you're interested in?" jungwon added.

"oh the lady loves to—"

"hush, liz!"

the green blades swayed along the soft breeze as the scorching sun grew a tad bit hotter today yet the over-the-top umbrella you had with you—protected you from the rays at least, but you couldn't care any less as you were beyond giddy, as right now you brought the two with you to the bridge behind the manor.

adding a humongous speed on your feet, leaving the two slightly far behind you for obvious reasons.

now, now.. shall we start the plan?

a mischievous, meticulous plan you've crafted since last night, sacrificing your beauty rest for this long awaited encounter of your precious main couple. moving on to the second step of your plan.

of course, being a writer means you could imagine a dozen more ideas of how to develop romance between two characters—easy peasy. spending an unhealthy amount of time into perfecting your craft, you didn't waste your 20/20 vision to have learnt nothing, obviously.

"ah, isn't the heat a bit irritating today?" wiping off the bead of sweat down your jaw, in a slightly exaggerated manner.

"perhaps, it would be best if we return to the manor, milady." liz spoke, concern engulfed her expression.

"hm, you're probably right." sneakily taking a few glances towards the prince standing behind liz, you fake a few coughs.

forgive me, liz, my precious baby! i had to do this to make that damn prince realise his love for you, plus the lake ain't deep for god's sake..

yes, the goddamn lake. you even had to ask the maids over how deep was this lake just for safety measures, certainly you need your female lead to stay alive for your plan (and novel) to work.

and why the lake, you might wonder? oh jesus, just how many dramas had the damn water scene appearing regardless of any form; lake, river, swimming pool, waterfall, you name it—where the female lead crash into, only for the male lead to come and save her for the day?

the exquisite proximity and skin brushing against skin, those pair of orbs gazing into the universe of each other's soul as they stuttered along the line—traces of infatuation fleeting into the empty air, the heavy scent of romances blooming with prolonged gaze—eventually sealing their amour with a deep, passionate kiss.

ah, chef's kiss! massimo paborito, mwah!

upon your mere hesitation, you sneakily bumped against liz; a surging scream emitted from her lips as she fell into the lake, water splashing against your dress in the process.

"lady liz!" you pushed yourself at the edge of the bridge, feigning shock—to be fair, you would've been annoyed by the soaking spots on your dress but your main priority right now is the prince beside you!

"your highness!" it seems as if he didn't need a word from you to dive in through the lake, but oh well, that had you immensely proud at his quick reflex. now have your skin brush against each other, and look deep into each other's eyes! your eyes widened mischievously as liz's face was buried in the prince's neck.

yes! yes! now gaze deep into his eyes and thank him for saving you! seriously you're currently suppressing your rattling feet from taking small giddy jumps over the sight before you; the prince's arms wrapped around the female lead's waist—while her arms around his shoulder, their nose brushed against each other when she lifted her head.

that alone had you turning your back around, cupping your mouth as you squealed in utter fangirling mode.

shit! holy shit! is this what it feels like to see them right before your eyes?! oh dear, oh dear, just get married will you?! you truly felt like a proud parent right now.

now what is it, let me take one more look! ah!— a fat ass bee buzzes out of nowhere, at your face even. your blood run cold at this stinging monster flying around you. seriously?!

your feet stumbles backwards as you kept smashing your umbrella at this hard-headed bee yet it buzzes even louder, dodging every each of your lame attacks. to your utter shock, your entire world turns downwards as your feet stumbles backwards causing you trip over the bridge.

a humongous splash shoots up the air and against the pair at your pathetic fall.

sunken seaweeds tangled round your wrists as you fell deeper, the water rushing into your lungs and nose had your mouth burbling bubbles before you. your eyebrows furrowed as someone familiar had dove back in, swimming towards you.

why is he even bothering? go back to liz, you idiot!

his fingers found it way around your hips, however you pushed yourself up—swaying your hands upwards, causing the prince to follow suit.

"goddamnit, i can swim." instantly mumbling to yourself as soon as the air greeted your nose, rolling your eyes as you slapped the prince's arms, "i didn't take swimming lessons at the ripe age of seventeen for this shit. by the way, where's liz? why did you leave her!" you mumbled repeatedly as you pushed yourself out of the lake, groaning with your soaking heavy dress.

"milady! you were about to drown!"

"bitch—oh god, your highness be for real." you huffed, "i just said i can swim."

"how was i supposed to know, milady?"

all in all, you all ended up soaking in the scorching lake. what a perfect day for swimming, huh? anyways, why did he even leave the female lead? she can't swim for god's sake!

"lady (name)!" liz had seated herself on the grass, utterly drenched yet still you could differentiate it from the tears streaming down her face as she pushed herself up, sprinting towards you, crying over how worried she was for your life.

rubbing her back you did as you comforted her, telling her that all is fine. except it wasn't fine for you that your fucking plan failed because of your careless damn feet.

you flinched slightly when you caught his eyes never leaving your form and more even at how drenched he was, beads of water dripping down his chin, and his royal attire soaking wet along with his once fluffy lush hair dripping immensely.

the maids had given towels and another pair of dresses for now, but you're actually wondering about the prince as this manor surely didn't had an attire for a male, moreover a prince. since you've written the background history of this manor that the duke who had owned it had passed away before his daughter was born, and so since then, only females had lived in these quarters over the past 40 years.

you heard a few knocks on your door, the maid's head slipping in through the edge. "milady?"

"hm?" you didn't bother to pay a glance as you wiped off the excess soaking of your hair, still in your spiral of dilemma over what happened an hour ago. your stupid mistake of your damn foot conspiring to trip into the damn lake in a rare opportunity!

"his royal highness was asking for your presence, milady."

"and what is his royal highness trying to conspire right here, huh? i am not his personal assistant to dress him up." you snorted, "what is this, barbie and ken? barbie girl in a barbie world?"

it's fantastic? this is nothing close to fantastic at all! you were so damn close to having them crashing their lips against each other!

"goddamnit why is this song kept repeating in my mind!" you whined to yourself.

the maid who had been patiently waiting for you to finish your emo session, spoke once again. "but milady, his royal highness had been having troubles since an hour ago. he had only requested for you and no one else."

"oh god, fine!" you smashed your soaked towel on the table, huffing as you went on your way to the guest room. stomping your feet ever so loudly as you pause before the double door, "your highness, may i ask what in the world are going on for you to request for my presence?"

"come in, please."

you didn't think much as you pushed the door open, yet your lungs bursted into flames when his toned chest and down your eyes went to his bunny pack of buns greeting your lazy orbs which had by far rattled into chaos as of now.

he's freaking half naked?! your mind chanted it like an unlimited internet quota. shirtless he was with that pestering smirk on his face as if he did this on purpose. yeah, this bitch definitely did it on purpose.

"milady?" jungwon smirked, "why don't you welcome yourself in? after all, this is your manor."

"no need." you coughed with your fist.

"just come in, please?"

"stop it! this is basic decency, why would you— ah—!" you held the need to breath as he slammed both his hands on either side of your head.

his breath brushing over your cheeks like feathers, "i don't think such terms like 'decency' are needed between us. after all, milady.. you're my future wife."

"w-what are you doing?! liz is right here—"

jungwon frowned, "why is mentioning her important to us?"

"w-well then!" you horrendously blinked a couple of times as you reasoned with him, "t-the pact! this is a blatant violation!"

"i haven't even done anything yet, milady?" he leaned in closer, seductive tone enveloping his voice. "so worked up for nothing, but that's cute. it satisfies me that only i could have such a great effect for you to have this expression, milady."

you couldn't contain the suppressed hiccup inside your lungs anymore as it eventually emitted right through his face, which had you immediately covering your mouth in utter shock. yet relief consumed you somehow when the smirk on his lips dissipated, however concern adorned his feline orbs.

but just as embarrassment left your soul, another emotion surged through your throat when his hand found its way to your cheek, his thumb stroking your cheek in circular motion as his concerned orbs were wholly fixated on it. "milady, can't you just get rid of the lake behind the manor?"

"w-why do you ask?"

"are you serious, milady? the incident awhile ago would certainly grow worse once left unattended."

"you're overreacting, prince jungwon." finally gathering courage as you pushed him away with your palms against his bare chest, gasping like a dying fish with your hands on your chest when you finally got your needed oxygen.

"i'm certainly not overreacting, i don't know what could've happened if i wasn't around if ever something.. endangered your life, milady."

"your highness, i am not as weak as you think of me."

"perhaps i've look down on you a little, milady. my apologies." your breath hitched down your throat when he immediately took your hands to pressed a tender kiss on top of it. "forgive me, milady."

your ears heated up when your eyes fell on his bare torso, realising that he still doesn't have anything on. dripping hair, beads of water down his chest causes your head to combust. pulling your hands away you did as you exclaimed.

"there's no need to apologise!" stomping out of the room, "seriously wear something!"

🎵…DESTINY IS NOTHING

today was the third time you were in the palace, and the prince's second turn in this pact where he had been guiding you around, everywhere but his room since you blatantly ignored his request with a firm resolution after that embarrassing incident you put yourself in a week ago.

jungwon spoke about his interests and stuff which you obviously knew very well, not really bothering to say anything in order to let him know that you weren't interested at all. opting to let him down as many times as it needed for him to fall out of love with you.

yet he just won't fucking give up.

cuisine, art, languages, swordsmanship, you name it; you've made this prince to be almost perfect at all aspects that was needed for him to inherit the throne. not that you've never written about his brothers, or any other princes in the kingdom, but a prominent part of his history throughout his childhood was that he was an illegitimate child of the king, yet he was immensely capable in adapting quick and efficient.

he pushed all through the trials and obstacles with his wits and immense manipulation tactics, overthrowing his opponents and those who dare to target his head were immediately thrown towards the sharp edge of the guillotine as soon as he spotted them within his line of sight.

jungwon was deadly and far more cunning than you could ever think. mercy was never part of his dictionary as a large part of his childhood grew under a knight whose heart was ice cold like freezing winter, therefore he inherited such traits and honed it to his advantage.

yet that ice cold heart instantly melted when his eyes fell on the female lead, his one and only lover. the rest was merely a history, sweet sugary romance that had been utterly messed up due to your existence in this novel.

you truly did never expect such a nonsensical turn of events to happen.

this prince could try anything he can to win your heart with his tactics, but jokes on him—it was you who crafted this very characteristic of him. therefore you, the writer of this very novel—has the upper hand and advantage more than he does.

but this freaking prince just had to fall asleep in the comfort of his arms before you as you two were seated down at the table for another cup of tea, that is. his lush bangs hanging just above his eyelashes, the tip of his nose dusted with cherry hues as he had been rubbing it off awhile ago when you were both in the palace's garden, his lips pouting made him appear to be an innocent child.

scoffing as you rolled your eyes, is he seriously that comfortable with you? this guy with horrendous trust issues even with his own personal knights? frowning, you leaned in a bit closer, inspecting his features.

i get it that you're cute, i mean all props and kudos to me for creating this goddamn hot face of yours but seriously i had matters to settle, and that is resting in my own quarters with my legs sprawled! not in this damn puffy dress that had me sweating for the past few hours!

—and definitely not all while riding a damn horse!

yes fucking indeed, prince freaking jungwon had arranged a horse riding session in the evening after taking a freaking nap, how utterly horrendous this situation is as you found yourself before a pair of horses emitting their very friendly nose according to the prince which doesn't sound the very least friendly to you.

and you might wonder why this situation was nothing but a pure form of nightmare to you? you unfortunately didn't have any experience in horse riding, and that’s no problem at all, actually! considering your well known reputation as a manhwa avid reader on her own flower bed.

the thing is, your dumbass had written this character you were currently in to be a complete master in horse riding and had actually won multiple national championships since she was at the early age of 10 years old!

oh god, dear god, could you just let me flee into dust at this moment? why the heck didn’t you add fantasy powers in your novel? could’ve actually brought you an advantage by smacking the prince to the female lead’s arms instead of this nonsense.

this was a pure nightmare in the physical frame of the prince having a lovey dovey moment with his horse, you cringe at the thought of him offering you for a ride and your back pressed against his chest all while passing through the field—as if this was a sort of la la land of fairytale.

screw this. you definitely don’t wanna have a lovey dovey moment with him. if you could, you would’ve invited liz! there would be no damn problem! but the thing is, he had the upper hand this week!

this bitch is really using every single damn hour without a waste, huh? what should you do?! tell him you are sick or that you kind of have a weak body now? hell nah, you had just stupidly challenged him that day by punching him right in the face, showcasing your not so sick body, unfortunately.

and most important of all, why the heck did he choose horse riding as part of the weekly pact? how did he even think of this? to bond using the method of interests? bullshit. you voiced such a question to him with your eyebrows raising minus the cussing part, as you can't help your expression.

"milady appears to have a taste for adventure and a hint of rebellious judging how you ended up punching me that day.." jungwon tilted his head playfully. "so it naturally came to me to do horse riding, and it just so happens that i heard that you, milady, had an exquisite talent for it. it must be destiny, isn't?"

screw your so-called destiny!

"that doesn't appear to be a compliment, at all. your highness." you emphasised the addressment. “and for your information, i am currently not in the mood to ride a horse. so, your highness. could we just do something else?.”

"hm, but today i wish to show the meadow which was deep in the woods, milady." jungwon sighed as he pouted, “it wouldn’t be fair for the agreement we had, aren’t we? and if you wish not to ride, then you could always ride with me, you know?” a smirk formed within the corners of his lips as he turned his attention towards his horse.

huh.

i fucking knew it! this bitch of a prince is pulling a hidden agenda of initiating close contact with you through this, that thought alone had you fuming in utter rage, clenching your fist as you can’t refuse such an offer.

everywhere you look, there seems to be no escape from this bloody hell of a lovesick prince! inhaling a very deep breath into your nose as you lifted your eyes at the prince who was currently giving a nice goodie boy pat to his jet black horse, giving him a total deadpan look.

“your highness, i really am not in the mood especially when it’s not my own horse-” you gestured towards the other white horse in which it emitted a total annoyance of ‘neigh’ in response, “and i definitely do not want to risk my life again the way i and lady liz did back in the manor.”

“that’s why i was asking for you to get rid of the lake, milady.” jungwon said. “and i could request for your personal horse-”

“don’t you ever touch my lake!” you huffed in which he raises his hands up immediately, sighing in defeat. “and no, quit it. let my horse rest!”

“well then, milady. your wish is my command..” jungwon emitted a tsk all while pushing himself up on top of the horse with so much ease by placing his foot on the saddle, wrapping both his hands at the handle as he ushered the horse to move closer to you. he lets out a breath of satisfaction as he lowered his right hips and extended his right arm for you much to your deadpan look. “however today is my turn, come and have a ride with me, milady.”

right, you really had no choice!

biting your lip as there was no other way to escape this situation despite your best efforts, you’ll just slam the reality to his face then. “fine, don’t you dare regret it.”

“hm~” he hummed in utter delightment as he pulled you up easily, since you wore this annoying puffy dress; you didn’t face the front, rather your shoulders were pressed against the prince’s chest which apparently worsened the situation as you could see his dangerously close face in this way.

god forbid you punch this prince to death.

"riding a horse is utterly boring now, i might say." you mumbled.

if you actually had applied for horse riding lessons along with swimming lessons, you could’ve and definitely ride a horse all by your own, and even imagining to an extent of ushering all the way out from the palace.

yet all you did in your life was curl yourself in your comfy heavenly gaming chair—that you had to withstand this dangerously close proximity with his breath causing tingles behind your neck. you could sense his chest, his heart beating too loud for your sake, and his lush hair brushing against your ear.

"may i ask why so, milady?"

"it's the very fact that i couldn't ride a horse on my own after some little accident i had back then. you see, your highness."

"ah, so it was that?" his voice made you nervous for no reason, you flinched slightly when he leaned closer, whispering in an almost feathery atmospheric tone. "then it would be my pleasure to give you some personal riding lessons to polish your skills again, milady."

your cheeks heated up at the supposedly double meaning, yet is that even possible?! gulping down your throat, and coughing in attempts to calm yourself down. "never mind it, honestly."

"as you wish, milady." you swore you could sense his mischievous grin behind, you broke a cold sweat at the growing and brave advances this prince is making.

is there really no way to get rid of his so-called interest in you?

“oh, i see your highness and lady (name) are having a pretty little date?” your eyes ogled out at the familiar luminous puppy vibes approaching from the distance, blonde fluffy hair bouncing every couple of seconds as a ‘neigh’ emitted from the horses. “this sight appears to be lovely, i have to say.”

it's definitely not lovely at all, the fuck are you saying?!

you suppressed the greatest desire to roll your eyes at the blonde-haired prince along with the two knights accompanying him.

“prince jake, i wonder what could be the reason to the knights behind you?”

“ouch.” feigning shock by clutching his chest, jake pouted in return. “no hey, how are you’s, or at least how's life? brother?”

right, the history between these two brothers is not the brightest as it seems, as they were birthed from two different mothers; one being the queen, and the latter of nothing more than a worthless prostitute. that rooted history alone had the gap between them growing farther and larger, adding the fact that jungwon managed to soar to the pinnacle in such a short time had not only jake’s position in the kingdom in a thin ice, but also other princes.

the rest was history though, as right now jungwon obviously had the power over each and one of them. the highest in status amongst his half brothers and sisters—the crown prince.

so these seemingly playful words emitting from the other prince don't have the slightest traces of sincerity, rather that of mockery.

“lady (name)?”

you replied almost immediately, “yes, your highness?”

“do look after my precious younger brother, will you? i certainly couldn’t bear once he—”

blah, blah, blah—worthless lies one after another, only nodding your head with the sweetest smile you could afford on your lips in order to appease the prince. right, what’s the point of having such golden vibes if he had such a despicable tongue? it’s such a waste of good looks, to be honest.

well, it was you who wrote him that way though.

conversing with the golden prince lasted for quite awhile much to your inner groaning, and incredibly elated you were when he finally left with his knights—excusing himself for some military affairs, that is. but jokes on him, you knew what was he in for, yet that couldn’t be any of your priority as this prince who had his feline features contorted into bitterness will handle him later according to the original route of the story.

but of course, the original route is pretty nonexistent if he never falls in love with the female lead! ugh! and what’s up with this ugly bitter look on his face? i didn’t spend all of the hours that was meant for my sleep to craft your pretty damn face!

“milady, i’ll only repeat this once.” his feline eyes darkened as it looked into your soul, “do not ever stay even one inch closer to prince jake, he’s not what you think he is.”

gulping down your throat as you broke a cold sweat, this look he was giving you was the very expression you described on him when he felt that he was being challenged or worse, getting on his nerves.

“plus, i do not like it a single bit of how you, milady gave him a smile.”

well yeah, screw it. you gave him another deadpan look, punching his chest with your clenched fist, causing him to yelp in pain.

tap, tap, tap.

you were sure you look like a freaking duck right now as you squinted so hard at the shop before you as it was your turn in this week once again, you had been researching about this particular shop where you could try on dresses and go about the town without paying first. therefore proceeding with your plans as always, you had invited liz again much to jungwon's hidden inner groaning.

silently weeping to himself as to how he could get on with plans in winning your heart, too, if a third party is always presented and a girl, even. if it was a man, not even an ounce of hesitation will he claim you before their eyes. yet he had just to eat his own words by going along with your wishes as now he had a kitty ears on with a cape that was a tad bit colourful for him, only lowering his head down in attempts to conceal his face from the crowd as it was freaking broad daylight.

that’s right, you had chose to cosplay with the two in hopes for them to find each other adorable, at least. yet much to their deep knitted eyebrows over what that word means, you had to think of a petty lie to utter before them.

and that was brushing it off as a rare word you encountered in a goodie oldie book that they could never lay their hands on, (obviously your novel) proceeding to drag them around the town with so much ease without them protesting to match the kitty ears on you as well. you gestured all around like a child with your eyes twinkling immensely at every single object, and rushing into the crowd despite their protests.

and behold, this was your very plan! sneakily getting rid of yourself and leaving them two alone together in the crowd, dumbfounded over your existence, shape, or form-nowhere to be found, this was one in a millionth chance to have them together all by themselves!

rushing out of the crowd from the back, your eyes sparkles in luminous brightness as you observed their frantic form everywhere looking for you. with the widest grin ever on your face and a humongous sparkle on your eyes, you exclaimed within your mind:

enjoy your date, my precious!

watching them from the distance as you took a sip from your orange juice, you squealed so hard as they began to converse with each other and the sight of liz giggling as she covered her mouth, the prince must have been saying something towards her right?!

"w-what? w-what did you say?!"

"yes, milady.."

coughing immensely as you choked on your chocolate drink after your maid, juliet — broke out the news with a pout in her face and her back drooping that the prince wouldn't be able to come today as he had important matters to attend to, however she added that she overheard from the maids that the prince had visited lady liz's manor, and everyone was cooing and swooning over the perfect sugary image of them giggling together.

really? really?! did your plan work out? unbelievably joyous your soul was as it soar into peak euphoria, thanking the deities as you didn't have to go that far anymore! truly, the female lead's charms are irresistible even to the prince, himself! unbeatable indeed, that he could no longer ignore the one and truly one for him.

juliet added that another type of rumours had been escalating over the entire royal court, and it was crystal clear to you how it was causing everyone from peasants to nobles to bet on who was going to hit the jackpot; the status of the crown princess.

"was it any of the three ladies closest to the prince's circle?" was the question lingering like a super duper glue from everyone's tongue.

some wondered that it could be princess violet who had just arrived from the neighbouring kingdom. she had been prince jungwon's supposedly fiancée ever since he was crowned as the prince, the keyword here is 'supposedly' since she was initially thought to be engaged with the prince, yet till now it was never officialised nor an official banquet had been held along those years. however, her arrival after so many years causes rumours to arise that a royal marriage was probably around the corner soon.

while others say that it might not be princess violet, and it was actually noble lady liz from the house of felix; walls are akin to eyes, ears and mouth—and so it soon reaches everyone's peace of mind that she could be a rival to the princess.

yet others also had their mind fixated on another noble lady, you. some of them however, had no guts to say out loud to vote for you—since one, your brazen attitude in the ballroom that day causes a hazardous chaos to everyone's mind, and two—rumours say that even when the prince had initially visited your manor for a couple of weeks, his interest soon dissipates upon lady liz's arrival.

kicking your feet in the air as you stretched your arms with utter satisfaction, you were surely placing your entire bet not on the former, but on the latter. you had never heard of princess violet, sure you had written a princess in your novel but that character was only a minor role. so it kind of bugged you over who is this princess violet?

well yeah, screw it. what is there to worry about when the prince had been pouring his utmost attention to his one and only female lead?

supporting your head with your arms as you gaze upon the silent sunset above the horizon—somehow, someway, it kind of gives you a solemn mood? shouldn't you be happy right now?

weird.

the glowing blush of the moonlight had the clouds dissipating in a rush, showcasing it's rays towards the glasshouse from where you are right now, the scent of fresh lush garden and the sweetened blossoming flora had your mind in a total serenity, yet it doesn't last any longer as a particular someone had made his appearance today.

"hm? what are you hiding behind you?"

you raised your eyebrow as you tried to take a sneaky peek on his left, yet he dodges it efficiently. it has nearly been a week since the prince had last visited you, yet he just had to break the streak by appearing before you today. at night even! you were appalled at first, frightened even that he might do something yet an afterthought struck you that he must definitely end the pact today!

giddy you are, as you spun around with your arms interlaced behind your back. a paper it must be? a paper with an official agreement to end his pact with you!

his feline eyes looking down the ground as his cheeks profusely steamed in rosy hues, obvious to you that this prince surely is being shy for reasons you couldn't think of.

huh.

"if your highnesss think i would keep forcing you then scrap the idea." you hummed as you turned around. seriously the prince surely doesn't think that you would insist right? you've watched too many dramas for this shit, the result of it obviously falling on each other's arms.

"milady?"

with a low sigh, you turn your head towards his way. wondering what could he be saying again, yet something naturally pulls your disinterested orbs onto it.

in his hand, in the grip of his long fingers; a book appeared.

but not just any normal or average book—by the looks of it, even when your eyes fell on it for the first time—you immediately noticed that the book on his hands was a handmade one with a vintage hardcover. your lips hang slightly apart and for some reason, your heart actually mellowed before your brain could process the fact. "i made this for you."

this is dumb, seriously it can't be? this prince is certified dumb but you were even dumber as you took it in your hands, inspecting every corner of it with your tender orbs.

"y-you made this?.. for me?"

"yes, i know it's rather simple—"

"n-no," shaking your head slightly as you unconsciously let out a breathless awkward giggle. "but when did you make this?"

"the first time i was invited to your manor, milady. i didn't mean to peek into your room—"

"what?"

"b-but i swear! i didn't read the papers scattered on the floor of your room, i held myself."

relief engulfed your soul, yet why are you even relying on his words? he could be lying, that it's right? he could be lying. but why can't you rip your orbs away from this simple object?

"yet seeing how your interest was centred along papers, and the ink plate on the farthest side... i thought that you must've liked to write, milady. so, i thought that i could make a handmade book for you."

a couple beats of silence.

"don't you like it?.."

"you didn't have to go that far, seriously—" you reasoned with him, yet your eyes never leave the object on your palms. unable to process this very fact, you don't wanna admit that it does something to your heart.

"no, but i have to." he interrupted, "and this is simply what a lover would—" pausing he did after he recalled your initial distaste over that particular word, letting out the last words from his lips rather low in volume as if he was shy to let you hear it clearly. "what a man would do for the woman he loves."

your stomach grew butterflies at his words.

"you could write anything you wanted in it, pour out everything you felt, your troubles, anything.."

and if i'm lucky enough to be a part of the pages.. i surely would treasure it, milady. those words rang akin to windchimes in jungwon's head as he observed you with utmost intent.

your fingers traced over the engraved leafy patterns on the cover, you suppressed a giggle at the obvious amateur brown threads that woven the entire pages together—sure it appears to be messy at hell, yet you seem to adore this proof of wholly effort. no you absolutely adore it.

it reminded you of that time when you had poured out your inner feelings in a journal for the first time, because you weren't able to let yourself out completely for everyone. it was before you ever had the hobby of reading manhwas, and or even being a writer.

it was the only way you ever had that time.

raising your glued eyes on the book at the prince, "thank you," his shy feline eyes bubbled into bubbly bobas at your gesture, "your highness."

jungwon looks away, avoiding those eyes that he had grown smitten for. brushing his fingers on his lips in the process as he gulped down his throat. "ah, right. i still have another present for you."

"god, it ain't my birthday today though? what's with all this presents—"

jungwon smiled as he turned his head towards the entrance, "bring it in."

the knights stepped in through the entrance, yet the sight of the white tiny creature on their arms caught your interest, and the fact that this frame of the knight's buff form and the creature in his arms seems to be a rather comical, eccentric but comforting sight.

your mouth hangs apart slightly when you finally notice the familiarity of the white creature—it was the snow bunny from the royal ball that night.

jungwon took the bunny in his arms as he approached you, "i have to say it's quite an effort to catch this little bunny, yet milady is—" he pauses with a slight grin, opting not to finish his sentence. "here, from today onwards, this bunny is yours, milady."

"how did you.."

"i have quite a keen observation, milady."

"stalker." you playfully spat out despite knowing this ability of his, in which the prince giggled in return.

your orbs endlessly waver at the lively snow creature on your arms, it's round form making itself comfy and nice which had you giggling at how utterly adorable it was.

🎵...AQUARIUS

suddenly the bunny wiggles in your arms and decides to hop on your face which had your butt hitting the grass in a loud thud, you yelp in pain much to the prince's displeasure. but you brush it off with a smile on your face, opting to lay your head on the grass bed instead as you picked up the snow bunny, lifting it up with your pair of arms.

the dim blue-ish setting of this place blending with doses of lavender hues and the fleeting fragrance of the flowers enveloped your form as the night breeze grew its volume in serenity.

like an image of a violet evergarden.

the prince had seated himself on the bed of the grass as well, not too close to make you feel uncomfortable yet not too far to be able to observe the way your features contorted into silent euphoria, just at an appropriate distance.

jungwon places his chin on his palms, tilting his head sideways with his orbs fixated on yours, watching you in silence as you play with the bunny in your arms, and at the handmade book laid beside you.

you didn't notice this awhile ago but now you did, realising the prince who had seated himself on the bed of grass. "y-you're still here.. i didn't notice."

"of course, but isn't that nice?" a tiny crease emerged from the corners of his cheeks, showcasing his dimples, "that means milady is happy."

your cheeks along with your heart grew warm at his words, placing a chaste kiss on the bunny's forehead as a way to hide away your stuttering. "r-right, thank you for all of this."

a low tone giggle from him sent tingles towards your ears, threatening to push in the cupid's bow a few more centimetres deep into your heart.

in this heaven-like, dimly lit glass greenhouse with the glitters star glazed monochrome sky behind the glass panes on the ceiling serving as your cinematic view, with your silk hair spreading beneath the lush grass bed and your bare skin feeling the sensation of the tender blades, the blossoming violets surrounding you and the prince sitting at the distance had every cells inside you to mellow in comfort.

the moonlight rays shimmering against the glass panes formed a twinkling light, and an imaginary silk fabric of soft beige and black velvet flowed in utter grace above the round patterned ceiling.

you held your breath.

this utterly whimsical and fairytale mood like what you often imagined in your novels, you had never imagine to be able to experience such vivid details with the tips of your fingers, reminding you of that time when you thumbed through the dictionary, studying each root and meaning of a specific word, with a blazing desire to be able to convey your story in utmost descriptive senses to your readers.

ah, this is beyond what you can imagine.

it sort of felt like the lush muted grass bed beneath your bare skin had pulled its borders open, transporting you into another dimension, into another world where it defies gravity and the laws of physics as your soul wasn't held by anything concrete nor anything spiritual.

the snow bunny before you had fallen to its slumber as you laid it on your tummy, purring in a tender melody.

floating and floating amidst the pit patter of the star it was as the weight of the crashing reality from where you used to be, every thought dissipates as your desire to merge yourself within this enchanting dimension grew

you'd imagine the fleeting dust orbs floating above your line of vision were the embodiment of glowing fairies dusting their magical powders on you, that could be the reason for this enchanting serenity.

yet your eyes unconsciously took a glance towards the prince sitting from the distance, you were relieved when he had his eyes shut tight for a moment as if to feel the soft breeze against his face.

a thump. it was supposed to be brief yet with the way his lush hair resembles the swaying motion of the violets had your orbs lingering for a bit more. the hems of his long black coat spreaded out behind him, and his crimson shirt paired with the regency bowtie around his neck which was adorned with ruby rhinestones.

it was as if he was the garden itself.

a shooting star emerges upon the glazed starry night sky, falling across the reflection of your orbs, having you engulfed in amazement at the sight. "a shooting star."

"oh, a shooting star, the old saying goes was to make a wish before it and your wish shall be granted.." with his chin still on his palms, he tapped his cheeks playfully. "i wonder what would be milady's wish then?"

a wish?

no doubt, your wish was for the male lead to return to his original character and story, to the female lead—his lover. so that you won't have to be troubled with all this nonsense, and another wish you had is to definitely return to the real world. there's no doubt as well that you were beyond happy to be able to immerse yourself in the world you created, yet you wish to return home; home where your comfy bed was, kitchen that you often were excited for once you're done with work, your desk with countless papers of poetries you wrote and your glowing laptop with thousands of either unfinished works or complete ones residing in that one folder.

the joy of reading the long ass paragraphs your readers wrote for you once you posted the next chapter, some of them having you teared up due to how expressive and hilarious they were, all of it brought little yet significant bliss into your seemingly normal days.

but.. you had another tiny wish emerging from within, forming a rather solemn sound of windchimes to your heart.

"my wish?" raising your splayed fingers over your eyes, inspecting each unique star twinkling above the splattered paint of glitters. "i would like to be real to myself."

yes, to be real to yourself and to say nothing but truth to the tip of your tongue before everyone. to be a writer, they say, is to be a very sad child, that you have to pour all your sadness to your characters, crafting obstacles for them to fight against, and let them withstand it bit by bit till they grow to be a stronger person than they used to be.

yet to be a writer in your words would also mean to be both a liar and a truthful person, for all the words you convey to your readers were lies crafted in utter perfection and a thousand hours worth of learning—and were also truth stemming from inside you, your very own obstacles where you feel nothing but being fake.

doubting yourself of whatever you say was a daily chore to you in your original life, yet you couldn't stop it no matter how you wanted to. you felt enormous guilt before the people you called your friends, despite putting your best efforts in caring for them, you still felt like you were being fake.

yet in this novel, you poured everything with truth upon a thousand perfected lies. you cared for your characters, to think of them as humans rather than mere descriptions or profile, crafted dialogues you knew would be from them, and such.

therefore, it was in this world where you knew you weren't being fake. it was the world that was a part of you, a world you felt the most realest without punching your hands against your chest.

maybe that's why you also wished to stay a bit more in this fairytale-like world.

"what's yours, your highness?"

the dim lit glass panes glinted against jungwon's orbs as he raised his head to look upon the night sky, "my wish.. is to be a bit more sincere in the things i do."

a few beats of silence.

"—being a crown prince has its fair share of troubles too, lifting a veil of deception before everyone is utterly exhausting. to do everything for the sake of earning something is exhausting."

being manipulative is exhausting, jungwon thought to himself. he'd rather not add that one particular word for your ears to hear, as he definitely wishes not to ruin the mood.

"but aren't you doing all of these to earn my love?"

"that might be the case, milady." jungwon pauses yet again, "but what i'm doing right now is showing my love for you, to let you know that you had made me do something without asking anything in return. i do not yet know if i am completely being sincere right now, since.. the sight in front of me is pretty nice.. that i desire for it to be a little longer, you know?"

you knew what he meant by his wishes, and that was the very reason why he should have fallen in love with the female lead. they were the remedy to each other’s pain, they were the answer to each other’s prayers, they were made for each other just like you intended it to be. it should have been her at this moment, with him.

yet why is it that you can’t help the way your heart grows exponentially warm at his words? avoiding his steady eye contact and his tiny dimples by covering your eyes with your once splayed fingers. "hm.."

it's safe to say that your maids and the prince's knights standing outside the glasshouse immediately cupped their mouths really hard after overhearing the prince's words, some of them squealing and the other smacking each other in attempts to stay as silent as possible.

it had grown silent after that, yet it for sure left a lingering rosy hues on your face and his.

jungwon felt like everything in this space was oddly moving in a slow cinematic motion, with the sight of you laying there with the sleeping bunny on your tummy, your sparkling eyes against the night sky, your hair and your white dress sprawled over the grass bed like dripping honey petals.

his icy cold heart; he felt as if it skipped a thump with every single breath you took, every time your eyelashes fluttered with every blink, the way your toes wiggled as you counted every single star above the universe.

this magical border where it only had you and him, was akin to the drawn images of the fairytale book he read as a child. this scene, this image, this scenery; you stood out the most.

it was as if you were the flower in this garden.

little did you know, that the so called dates he had with liz was after all his request for personal embroidery lessons. liz, herself had been awfully fangirling over you two for the past few days, giving amateur yet adorable advice that he should be away for a couple of days, to give you an air of mysteriousness and wonder over his whereabouts.

"i had to express my thanks to you, lady liz — for helping me."

liz giggled, "all are well, your highness. it appears to me that your highness' present to the lady had been a success, i assume?"

jungwon blushes at the thought of your tomato face.

"lady (name), she's a bit odd sometimes, however she's a kind person! therefore, your highness shall treat her well."

"of course, lady liz." replied jungwon as he remembered the days when he squinted hard, poking the needle towards the handkerchief. yet he eventually gives up on it, opting for another present as he couldn't possibly give you such a horrendous looking present. cussing at himself that even by being the so-called perfect prince, he is unable to be good at some things.

cringing to himself, he pondered immensely. ah, he recalled that you had a particular interest over something his eyes had fallen upon a while ago.

papers, books, inks, poetry.

he deduced that you had the probably an interest on such a particular thing, proceeding with his secret plans in acquiring new books that you perhaps would have an interest in. yet he pauses with a distant thought that you might have read a thousand books more than he did (which you actually did), and discards the idea immediately, wondering how and what kind of present he should get in order to align with your particular interest.

it should be made with pure effort, yet it should also be deemed useful for it to be on your palms everyday it could. jungwon wishes to avoid extravagant presents such as jewellery or dresses as you had expressed dislike over them by the reason "it was too hot and itchy" — plus, you as a noble lady would surely have a wardrobe filled with dozens of such stuff.

therefore, after much thought, he settled with one thing; a handmade book.

jungwon couldn't suppressed his grin as he went back to the palace, or all over the way to his quarters without being seen by the maids doing their respective chores, nobles leisurely wandering about or conversing with their peers, and royal officials that had just passed by from their usual royal meeting.

they wondered what could be the reason for the prince's sweet grin? they would never know as they have never seen beneath the prince’s crafted facade. they would never know how that facade of his crumbled the day his feline orbs softened at your curled form in the midst of the hallway.

jungwon’s intention in approaching you that day was nothing more but to bring a couple more scent of fragrance to his name, as part of his meticulously crafted plans. even when you came to accidentally compliment him that day, it was only a slight waver to his ice cold heart. yet he finds you fascinating in how you carried yourself around him.

at second meeting, he knew you were hiding something to the point you were getting rid of him— yet didn’t bother to dig in as his instincts rendered you to be harmless, and that the thing you could be hiding would be to your own best personal interest. he ain’t no fool, growing up all by his own while encountering all sorts of people had sharpened his mind and polished his skills to the finest. yet he found it interesting to bubble up those panic expressions on your face.

during those days where he chose to wait for you to appear again had him quite of missing those expressions on your features that he decided to enter your residence which marks the third time you met each other. that day, when you made it clear that you do not have any interest in him, it's not that he felt like he was being challenged like he used to—it's just that there was something he couldn't fathom.

that's the very reason he made the thirty day pact, to see how far it will go till he loses this mere interest in you.

yet seeing you was yet another wish that kept burbling up in his heart one after another despite thinking to himself that this will be the last time, and at last he finally found himself wishing to see you one more time, every time he could, as long as he can.

you were definitely not the first lady that had shown lack of interest in him, neither you were the first one he had ever first fallen in love with, nor the first one to had him crumble into this way.

but you are definitely the last one he’ll ever pursue.

your eyes flutter open with the blossom of the sun kissing your hair strands and reflecting it's honey hues within your orbs. a wholly sensation of peace engulfed your heart as you seated yourself up, your eyes falling on the curled form of the white bunny, and at the handmade book beneath it.

"why didn't you woke me up?"

"his highness had spent the entire night watching over you, milady. he left by sunrise."

"oh.. he didn't say anything after that?"

"unfortunately no, milady."

you shrugged, scratching the back of your neck as you stood on your feet. pouting slightly as to how the prince didn't left any message for you before leaving, you sighed a bit.

but hold up? why are you sighing?

your previous thoughts dawned on you a couple of seconds later as you cupped your mouth with your hands, and your ogled eyes threatened to pop out. what is this nonsense?!

🎵…THEIR OWN WORLD

so much about the grinning stuff, here your face and lips were horrendously affected by this grin that never ceases to exist since that day.

seriously? it's just a simple book with empty pages and an obvious amateur embroidery that had threads sticking out front and back, yet as much as simple as you claimed it to be, your actions says otherwise as you had placed it amongst your personal bookshelf where your favourite books were, or the fact that your feet couldn't stop bringing yourself to where it was and for your hand to pull it out for the nth time.

to carefully inspect every little detail of this hand made carved cover, recalling the prince's words that he had poured his utmost effort in creating such a simple yet.. heartwarming gift. it kind of bugged you that accepting this gift probably meant accepting his advances towards you?

no way, that can't be it.

but the fact that you recalled how your heart mellowed in a swift speed when he placed the handmade book on your palms, and how you were sure that your smile that time was pure sincerity could have meant that.. you were falling for him?

nah uh! impossible as fuck! just give this back to him, yes indeed, that's the only plausible way to get rid of these ominous thoughts in your head. you can't be falling for the male lead, the very fictional character you created for your precious female lead.

yet your feet pause on its tracks almost as immediately it started, gripping the book in your fingers—-having a second thought of it.

tick tock, tick tock.

pure irritation engulfed your lungs in a pang as your eyes had been lingering on the entrance for a long, long time. to your utter surprise, the prince had not visited for a week, not even a single day as whole seven days without any sign of his presence. he had missed your turn in the pact, you had initially thought to spend this time with him without liz.

with the lingering desire to ask him something, but when you confront yourself before the mirror's reflection of yourself. what is there even to ask about?! to discuss the book with him? that could be it, right? not that you wanted him all to yourself, right?

right..?

was he busy? was he occupied with the royal affairs? or perhaps someone had caught his eyes now that he's spending his time with them? you are dead serious about giving this book back to him, so your heart would already be at ease, yet why?

you hated to admit it but, you were longing for his presence as you flipped through the empty pages of the book he made, for you. you haven't written anything on the first page as you desire for the words to be something of importance rather than mere doodles.

"—for you."

for you, huh? this prince is horribly romantic for his own good, isn't he?

"bunny." you poke the little creature's nose that had been scratching it's head on the table before you, "your prince, do you know where is he?"

of course, the bunny could only stare at you with it's boba eyes, obviously not capable of understanding your words. yet this bunny got to be the biggest culprit of them all as those boba eyes just had to remind you of him.

resting your chin on your palms as you let out a sigh for the nth time, having the attention of the maids doing their respective chores on you—pouting slightly as they, too—were waiting for the prince's presence.

"milady?"

"hm?"

"do you perhaps.. miss his highness?"

your chin slipped over your palms as it burst into beads of sweat real quick, eyes ogling at the girl before you. "juliet?! seriously? go make me a cup of chocolate!"

"y-yes milady!" the girl disappeared into atoms as soon as she could. you facepalmed yourself as why did you even name her 'juliet' if you couldn't add her romeo at the beginning of the character's introduction, oh god. now she's pestering you with words you'd rather not hear, this girl had been spilling a dozen more words that had stuck to your mind like a super glue.

"i wonder how the prince is doing, though—" smacking your mouth immediately as it sank in your mind over what you just asked, groaning as you went back to your quarter.

you'd rather die than to visit the palace, seeing all the double faced people residing there would only cost your peace of mind and you'd rather not punch another skeleton to ashes again. you'd rather indulge yourself in the comfort of your fluffy heavenly bed than trouble yourself over the prince, right?

right..?

"well screw myself!" standing before the entrance of the palace had you thinking just what is wrong with you, have you gone insane?

probably.

"lady (name)?" a familiar voice had you turning towards that someone, the widest big grin adorned the corner of your lips as you approached her and giddily interlaced your hands with hers.

"liz!"

great! now you will totally have a plausible excuse when you meet the prince, you’d rather die than have him knowing that you came all the way here from your manor just to see his damn freaking face, or that you actually kind of miss him.

"oh, i didn't expect to meet the lady (name) on such a day?" a seductive and mature voice causes your neck to tingle, and definitely not in a good way. "i wonder what could be the lady (name)'s purpose to visit the palace?"

no shit, the princess who you've been quite curious about has finally appeared before your eyes and somehow after looking at her up and down, it irks you that she gives another villain vibes to your keen eyes and you're definitely not in the mood for it. the fact that she knew your existence, your name, and the way she laid out the question had you confirming that she had heard the rumours, and that she didn't receive it very well, didn't she?

you curtsy before her, bowing your head slightly before fixing your posture again. "greetings, princess violet, i was just intending to bring my fellow companion to visit around the royal palace."

"greetings, princess violet." liz curtsied gracefully, that alone had you grinning immensely proud over how her sparkling charms had more of an effect than the not-so-good vibes this princess was emitting before you.

"very well then, i had brought my fellow companions as well, noble ladies that is." stroking her silk lacy gloves she did as she gestured over the ladies behind her, "we're having a tea party in the evening, perhaps would you like to come?"

sounds like an invitation, to be fair, but those who had sharp eyes could see through her malicious plans—rejecting the princess' invitation regardless of what, is deemed as tasteless and atrocious to the palace despite not intending to do so.

there was rumours flying around that one word slipping from her tongue is capable of snapping people's heads into separate dripping flesh, and that could be the reason to her infamous reputation.

huh, that's definitely the reason why the royal family wasn't giddy enough to arrange an official engagement despite all those years, only holding onto the rope as long as they can if by any chance they had no one to depend on.

royal affairs is just that complicated, huh? but oh well, a cup of tea might do wonders to your dampen mood—might as well indulge yourself in such an exquisite tea party all while seeing just how this noble princess would go far.

"it would be my honour, princess."

the tea party is to say the least quite civil for you despite your initial expectations that the princess could turn out to be a total bully, the ladies and liz converse together with numerous topics just like the nobles would, one of the topics being of the princes of this kingdom. one of them squealed over the red-haired prince with the name sunoo that had caught dozens of heart as he waved his hand against the ladies, or the other one that truly live up to his status; icy piercing eyes and a beauty mark on his nose, a total prince charming vibes with the name sunghoon.

"lady (name), so it was you..?"

you paused your inner monologues, "what.. do you actually mean, princess violet?"

"nothing, i had the desire to see what type of a lady the prince had taken an interest in."

or maybe not, you were truly right after all—now would you look at that? this rookie princess is finally getting on with her plans and apparently proceeding with one of the oldest techniques called "putting you down on your place" which had been scattered all over the dramas regardless of era, often effective as it struck hard right to a character's dignity.

"you see, that his highness might have just gone bored, that he had to find a new toy for a short period, that is."

you let the bitch ramble on and on, letting her satisfy her high ego and pride cause you've seen enough, watched enough, heard enough, even had written enough for you to be affected with such basic insults.

but oh dear god, you desired to smash her face on the table yet resisted as your precious female lead is here, you couldn't possibly let her witness such a horrible sight, right?

yet for some reason you can't help the way your eye twitches and the slight pang in your heart at her words despite knowing that she's just another minor character in this very world you created.

"his highness, i fear, would lose his mere affection for you in no time."

"princess violet! i dare say that is not very wise of you to say." liz frowned deeply, shaking her head as she did so.

"it's fine, liz." you rubbed her hands in which her features softened immediately. ah, your precious sweetheart. isn't she just that kind hearted?

you took a couple of sips from your teacup, indulging yourself in the delightment of it. you wondered who could be the talented one that had created such exquisite taste?

"lady (name)!"

"oh?"

"are you listening or what?" visible veins popping on the side of her neck, obviously irritated by your leisure manner.

your lips hang apart, giggling in a low tone as your eyes crinkled in mischievous crescents. "oh princess, i wasn't aware. perhaps you could repeat it again?"

yes bitch, exhaust your despicable tongue.

"oh dear heavens, i was kind enough to invited you to my tea party, and you have not at least basic manners before me?"

basic manners? oh look who's talking! you held the need to spew insults at the bitch for you seriously had more important matters to settle, "then would it be to your own likening if i excuse myself out, princess?"

she scoffed at you, rolling her eyes as she uttered another thing. "oh please, don't tell me you're wishing to meet the prince? do you think i'm an idiot for not realising your plans?"

"what would make you assume that, princess?"

"just saying, even if his highness truly likes you. sorry to say, you would be nothing but a mere mistress. and i—"

your ears literally shuts its ability to hear anything from her any further, sighing dejectedly before your disinterested lazy eyes caught sight of someone behind the entrance. your eyebrows raised along with your lips, a sense of slight bliss surged through your soul as you recognised who it was.

"y-your highness..?" you mentally wanna slap yourself for sounding too excited, "why don't you welcome yourself over here?"

"oh, my apologies." the sight of jungwon in his glowing princely attire approached from the distance had your heart skipping not one beat but two, which had you looking away instantly, your eyes fell on the ladies behind you had their jaws dropping behind the hand fans in their tight grasp.

"oh my, your highness!" they exclaimed, obviously elated by his sudden and unexpected arrival. your eyebrow twitched at their cringy and over the top whiny voice in attempts to get the prince’s heart.

pausing on his tracks, a few metres away from the table and you. he pulled the familiar smile that held innocence in it, quite double-faced if you ask me. these ladies had no idea just how the prince really is beneath that facade. you thought as you side eyed lady violet.

yeah..

recalling those sets of memories puffed with soft pink mist of his fluttering eyelashes looking down as he stretched out his palms with the book on top of it---the way his boba eyes of innocence blended with utter sincerity, and the way he was obviously nervous by how he lapped his tongue on his lower lip.

how you utterly miss those expression, for a reason you couldn't comprehend. it's not like you had grown closer with him, so why there's a sense of warmth enveloping the silent heart behind the cage of your ribs? and with it, a sense of irritation arose within.

it won't hurt.. to teach her a bit, right?

"princess violet." you called out.

"y-yes?" she raised her eyebrow suspiciously at you.

"you were wondering why i don't have basic manners, but have you ever asked yourself if you ever had one?" you took a few steps closer to the prince before you.

"lady (name), what are you trying to imply?"

"hm," you hummed playfully, raising your fingers up to the prince before wrapping your hand around his neck. "what i was trying to imply is, spewing such nonsense before a lady about her man is certainly lacking manners."

"huh?!"

"might as well show you since you couldn't understand." you turned your attention back to jungwon, whose feline eyes were also laced with utter confusion which quickly turned into a full bloom boba when you pulled his long bowtie closer to you—crashing your lips against his.

—inaudible words along with sudden gasps arose and the eyes of the noble ladies, the princess, including the female lead ogling out tremendously hard.

"l-lady (name)?!"

"a-ah~" you lapped your lips on your plump lips before the full blown orbs of the ladies, "now, now.. this prince right here you've been addressing as 'your highness'.. is my man. kindly practise a couple of basic manners, would you, ladies? unless you would be content being his majesty's side mistress?"

jungwon's cheeks flushed into a hot mess, akin to a profusely steaming bun. his boba eyes relentlessly blinked as he tried to process what had happened just now, feeling the previous sensation on his lips before looking back at you again.

"oh my, your highness?" feigning a playful shock, "perhaps you would like to have princess violet as your wife instead?" placing your index finger on your lower lip as you pouted before the prince.

jungwon's feline orbs twinkled, regaining his well composed manner as his fingers tapped your hips—pulling you closer to his chest much to another series of squealing from the female lead, and screw loosening in the princess' jaw.

"i wouldn't dare, milady. didn't i say i would be good for you?" the sun rays kissing his soft lush hair as his eyelashes fluttered, pressing a soft kiss on top of your hand. "if milady desires, i shall announce to the people that you're my woman just as i am your man."

now it was surely your turn to blushed profusely, looking away from his lovesick gaze. what's up with him with these romantic words?!

the female lead, had by far, turned into a full blown embarrassment as well. actually turning into a diehard fangirl at this point, "m-milady?"

oh shit— what the fuck?! what in the actual shit is this?!

how could you even forget that your precious baby is right here the entire time?! kissing the male lead in front of the female lead? you've truly gone insane!

"i-i! i'm going ahead, your highness. if you'd like to follow then please do so." your feet scattered through the paths as you motioned liz to follow suit.

jungwon nodded with visible rosy hues on his cheeks, but immediately paused on his tracks, turning his head over his shoulder. "ah, princess violet?"

"y-yes your highness?" the princess immediately stood up on her feet, gulping down her throat.

"you see.. if you weren't a lady, i wouldn't have let you earn the consequences of spewing nonsense to my wife."

the princess' orbs widened in utter horror, stuttering pathetically. "n-no! y-your highness! this isn't how it looks like p-please listen—"

"next time, if you dare as much as to provoke her one more time, i assure you being a lady or a princess would no longer be enough to keep your tongue intact." with icy eyes seething with blood, the prince then went on—leaving the princess to fall on her knees, eyes darting immensely.

"lady liz, could you let me have the lady to myself for a moment?"

his voice had you immediately pausing on your tracks with your mind still clouded over your actions awhile ago, heart beating rampantly as you turned to face the prince but you keep your head down as you didn't have the courage to look at him.

liz who was still greatly affected with the obvious tomato hues on her cheeks, looks towards you with eyes asking if it's okay, in which you nodded.

the girl hastily excused herself as she cupped her cheeks, and her feet threatened to stumble at the edge of the entrance much to your deadpanning look and sighing over how clumsy she was.

you finally gathered the courage to look into his eyes yet his face alone had you constantly recalling what you did with him. the heavy crushing weight of kissing him before the ladies, and calling him your man. how cute, huh?

an excruciating silence formed between you and him, your eyes darting all around the space but him, while your hands formed beads of sweat as you waited for him to speak first.

"so.. milady? how have you been?" jungwon locks eyes with yours, the way he looks to your soul felt as if he wanted to caress you with his arms at any moment, what is this? “and i have to say i’m surprised that you’ve came all the way to visit me, was.. it for me though, milady..?”

"oh, i’ve been doing absolutely well! h-how have you been too, your highness?" stuttering pathetically, you wish the gods would launch their gigantic mega hand against your face. and it struck you utterly late when you realised his question at the end. “and.. bold of you to assume that way, your highness.”

"right..” he hangs his head low. “however i’m very pleased to hear that you’re doing well, milady. but i'm not.. okay." he raises his feline eyes that was now engulfed with traces of sadness. "i have to apologize for messing up our pact."

"there's no need, your highness. the royal affairs are your duties as the crown prince. what am i, a simple lady has the right to earn any apology from his highness who simply did what he had to do?"

"what you said was true, but certainly do not call yourself as 'simple'. you're just any other lady, you're my future wife." jungwon took a few step closer, "(name)."

silence lingers in the long empty hallway with no one but you and him.

"i have to own it up to you, milady. it is my fault for missing one week of our pact." he looks down, clearly disappointed. “will you give me the chance, lady (name)?”

your lips hang apart, thinking twice as your eyes darted into any other direction other than the prince before you. “how is your highness going to own it up to me, though?”

jungwon’s features lit up like a glowing sunrise, “tomorrow, a fireworks festival will be held at the town. i’ve been planning to bring you—milady for a day out as a way to redeem myself.”

a day out, fireworks festival at the town. you can’t help but be excited for such simple words yet alike magic—it brought the scent of liveliness all the way to you—hugging your form in an oddly comforting way.

"and milady, can we not bring lady liz with us this time?"

"oh, your highness. i have neither agreed nor said anything yet?"

jungwon blushes awkwardly, uneasiness consumed his rampant heart as he didn’t want to screw this over and definitely didn’t want to risk you getting upset or anything, "lady (name), i truly desire to be alone with you for atleast a day."

that surely had you taken aback, clenching your fist in attempts to soothe your heart skipping a thousand beats. you look down, avoiding his ever so passionate gaze. "i- u-uhm, sure? i guess?"

giddily putting on a casual attire, apparently not the first time nor the first hour with the evidence of the scattered dresses on your bed serving as pure mockery to your face at how you’ve been putting too much effort for a simple fireworks festival.

a simple festival, that is.

yet your feet spinning around for you to sway your supposedly casual dark brown dress with a corset hugging your torso seems to not likely be the case.

leaves rustling from behind the window a tad bit loud for you, causes you to flinched as you snap your head with ogled eyes to the source of the noise. unsure if it was a paranormal phenomenon or whether it was the damn wind trying to shake you off.

being the scaredy cat you are, you just couldn't afford to add a horror element in your novel so what the fuck is this ominous bell playing in the background?!

you almost let out a scream after seeing a black silhouette landing right before your rattling orbs, your brain instantly activating fight and flight mode—opting to take your mountain of a dress and throw it at the intruder.

yet your rattled orbs dissipates as it fell on the familiar lush hair and his feline orbs. instantly fell on his attire—which greatly differs from his usual royal attires. you remembered that you drew this particular fit of him when he brought the female lead to the town for a picnic.

"why are you here?!"

"i thought we're going out for the festival, milady?"

"no— what i mean is why did your highness climb through the tree and not visit the manor in a normal, civil way through the entrance?!" you patted your chest in attempts to soothe your cold heart.

jungwon scratches the back of his neck as he avoided your blazing orbs, "since it would be our first time to go out together, i would like it to be only us. no one but us—"

your orbs softened immediately.

"yet the knights would then accompany us as for protection, which would be irritating so i left the palace secretly. and here i am, milady." jungwon said. "i apologise for scaring you, it wasn't my intention."

"u-uh," you horrendously couldn't think of a proper answer, "it's okay, your highness. i just didn't expect it."

jungwon finally pulled up his usual smile, his feline orbs then looks all the way down from your hair till your feet which had you engulfed in embarrassment. "you look gorgeous, milady. i assume you dress up for me?"

"bold of you to assume it." you scoffed in return in which he smirked, knowing very well it meant the opposite.

"then milady," he lifted himself up on the edge of the balcony, extending his arms and laying out his palms for you. you held your breath with the breathtaking sight of him; his fluffy hair flowing along the night sky breeze, twinkling kitten orbs with his lips forming a slight smirk. "let's go?"

you gaze at his extended palms before you, slipping your hands on it as he takes you closer to his chest, wrapping his strong arm around your waist for stronger protection—his touch alone had you looking down abashedly—guiding the both of you down the ground from the rustling tree. landing ever so effortlessly just like the so-called cat he was, you flinched instantly when his lips ghosted against your ears. goosebumps rising on the back of your neck when that happens.

"are you okay, milady?" his other hand is still wrapped around your hips, tight as it can and yet as gentle as it can be.

"uh- i, i'm okay." you pushed yourself away from him, standing a metre apart. "remember one metre apart."

"right."

"lead the way, then! the festival—"

the blasting noise of the town enveloped your ears the more you drew closer, and you looked down after taking a swift glance at the prince lit up smile, what’s up with him falling so much for you? was it really love at first sight? you’d rather that to not be the case, to be honest, you’ve always loathe that trope which serves as a proof in your entire writing career with you avoiding it through and through.

love at first sight; such sight only lasts for a while, its only purpose is to please our eyes and such. nothing more and nothing less. that's all beautiful things are for, isn’t? it gives you false hope, false dreams, false imagination of what things could have been like.

love at first sight; just like its name, alike the blooming florals in the night sky, falling in love can be deceptive, luring you in for such a short-lasting moment that will eventually leave you in this hollow void of velvet night sky for a long long time, with the consequences of it punching a humongous void in your soul, reaching your hand out for that bursting light one more time.

"your highness, could you stop calling me, milady, milady, for now, will you? just call me by my name." you sighed enormously after having your ears blasted with his never ending ‘milady’, it sort of felt to you that he was somehow enamoured in addressing you that way.

jungwon’s boba eyes wavers, dimples emerging from his puffy cheek. "as you wish, milady. however i wish for you to stop addressing me as ‘your highness’ then."

“a—alright, what would you like for me to call you then...?” you exclaimed a tad bit joyful than usual which had jungwon smiling ever so happily.

"jungwon." he shots a playful wink, causing your already hazardous heart to weaken even further. "(name), is it? pretty name for a pretty lady."

you looked away, "we're in public."

"wow, i didn't expect that you would be embarrassed after the spectacular scene you did during the ball back then, (name)?" purposely emphasising your last name, you glared at him.

"well, that was your fault! when a lady asks for you to let go, then you shall do it."

"but then, us right now—wouldn't happen at all, right?"

you didn't expect you would agree with him, but you obviously weren't going to show it. simply shrugging at his playfulness like a child.

"also that kiss was nice."

taken aback, "you—"

"young sir, would you like to buy a single violet for your lover?" your eyes fell upon an old lady in a weary persimmon cardigan and a beige dress reaching down below her knee, and at the baskets filled camellias dangling on her right arm.

taken aback by that chosen word, your cheeks flushed as you stuttered, unbelievably horrid after realising your own reaction. "h-he is not my—"

the old lady's eyes widened, "oh, my apologies!"

"of course," jungwon pulls not one but the entire camellias into one bouquet, smiling as took a few sniff. "i wonder how much a bouquet would be for my wife?"

"your wife?!” you exclaimed with your features contorted into disbelief after he had paid for the whole damn bouquet, “as far as i assume, the pact is still active?”

“hm,” the prince pulled a sly smirk as he caressed the camellias against his rosy cheeks, “you were the one who wished for me to stop calling you ‘milady’, what would be a better way then to call you my wife? (name)?”

"s-seriously? just where did you come up with all these words!" you cupped your cheeks as you turned your back against him. “this is ridiculous.”

jungwon's orbs widened, looking away immediately as he raised his slightly curled fingers up to his cheeks, hiding away his rosy blush. "have you forgotten the kiss? it might have activated this odd magic of well chosen words, my wife.”

“one more time and i’ll leave!”

“alright, alright! here,” jungwon sneakily sways before you, “a bouquet for a pretty lady.”

“you just had to buy the whole thing, seriously.”

“the old lady would surely go about the town, looking for people to sell her flowers. don’t you think it’s a good idea that we could help her quickly?”

upon his words, you shrugged despite wholeheartedly agreeing with him, sniffing the fragrance of the camellias instantly soothes your soul, yet you couldn’t suppress your grin when you recalled his words and his considerate thoughts for the old lady—opting to hide this blooming grin behind the bouquet while you two walked about the town, exploring every bit and bit.

"if i could be bold once more, could i ask you for something again?"

"hm?"

"i had something i wish to give you."

oh please god, no way, if it's the heirloom you've written on page 76 in your novel, you'd rather not as that object is hella important and the particular scene that includes the heirloom was when the prince gave it as a present to the female lead, his lover—on their wedding day.

and you definitely don't wanna be a queen, screw the crown—you'd rather sleep on your fluffy pillows and blankets.

"whatever you're thinking, do scrap the idea." you nonchalantly said, yet the way his eyes looked down in disappointment had you hissing in response all while rolling your eyes. you kind of loathe to see that expression on his face somehow.. "i'm already satisfied with the book you gave me, there's nothing more i wanted than that, do you understand?”

his feline eyes lighted up so quickly as the corners of his faint red lips pulling up in a satisfied smile. “i understand.”

“good.”

🎵... IMMORTAL BIRD

blasting drums and a roaring crowd suddenly engulfed the entire town, causing your voice along with jungwon's to drown alongside it. you caught sight of everyone in a pair regardless of gender or age hopping into a circular pattern in the centre of the street, holding hands together as they spun around, getting closer and then far. their faces adorned with the brightest smiles.

you caught sight of a mother dancing along happily with her two younger sons, a son pulling his father’s hands as they slowly dance in their own world, a pair of best friends from afar as they giddily created their own silly dance, and a sight of two ladies with their hands interlaced as they look into each other’s eyes with traces of tenderness and warmth, and many more you aren't able to mention.

it was a canvas that held love dripping in thousands of hues, and yet it was still in the form of love.

"it's a yearly ritual, milady. to dance together under the night sky as it blooms into fireworks."

"that's wonderful.." you were astounded, yet you somehow don't remember that you wrote this particular ritual. yes, you did wrote about the fireworks festival and that the main couple had their first kiss in that scene. but the dance ritual?.. was there any important memories that you haven’t somehow recalled yet?

"may i then, milady?"

"w-what?" astounded you were at the sight of him standing in front of you with his arms extended, and palms spread before you with sincerity brushing over his faint red lips.

"may i have the honour to have a dance with you, milady?" jungwon asked with hope evident in his eyes, "last time, it didn't end that well for us."

a couple moments of silence grew between you and him despite the gradually increasing volume of the luminous town behind; the dancing pairs, chatters of the elders, murmurs and gasps from the ladies as they go about their day, footsteps of children stomping all across the pathway as they play hide and seek, while some had kites and balloons tied around their wrist—giggling endlessly.

the low volume of musicians playing their respective instruments of accordion, harmonica, and guitar blended accordingly so that it flowed pleasingly to your ears.

a sentient mood of belonging, comfort, and home.

this sight, this atmosphere, the mood this town emitted, this young man before you turning into an innocent young boy whose feline eyes twinkled and blinked slowly for you.

a frame of everly purring garden.

"so.." jungwon raised his palms once again, "may i, milady?"

truly a breathtaking canvas of a man who falls in love.

tugging both sides of your skirts as you lower yourself slightly, curtsying before him. "of course, my prince." you slipped your hands onto his palms, it didn't go past your sight how his feline orbs widened and twinkled a couple of seconds later as the corners of his lips pulled up in a slight grin.

skin brushing against skin and the comforting heat from his chest as he pulled you closer to him, leaning closer he did with his lips brushing against your ear and his warmth voice sending chills down your skin.

"follow my lead, milady."

interlacing his warm fingers with yours, he guided you around the bursting fountain—swaying around in a circular motion just like every other pair did.

the accordion switches to a lively bursting melody, opting to move everyone's feet in a tapping frantic active mode, a goofy grin and giggles emerge from everyone's face as they spin around on and on.

dancing with him feels oddly calming despite everyone’s sudden burst of energy— the lights turning round and round in a circular motion as you danced with the prince had you feeling slight bliss, that is. you shouldn't be enjoying this too much, right?

this town spilling in golden hues like an overflowing sink, yet this prince drips even more in over-saturation with his own colour, splattering its shades across your bare skin.

it feels as if, as if in this very moment that you were the main character with him. as if you were one with him.

his hands lifted your arm as he let you spin around freely for the first time, both your hands and his immediately reattached and he guided your hands onto his shoulder.

two pairs of feet swaying and spinning beneath the ground with golden orbs particles following along as if it had life in it.

and as you spun a couple of times more when he let go of your hand, it didn't go past your vision on how his fingers twirled your hair locks in tender and utmost affection, and the sweetened sugar smile on his faint red lips never ceasing to exist.

as soon as you got back into his arms, jungwon caressed your cheeks in the process—lifting your arm as he turned you around, pulling your back against his chest as you faced the luminous golden town and everything before you. gasping for the nth time when his right arm wrapped around your clothed tummy, and his left hand; two fingers tapping across your bare arms till it reaches your left hand, interlacing your fingers with his as he lifted it up.

hushing in a lullaby-like motion.

shutting his eyes tight as he buried his chin in the side of your neck—he began to guide you to dance in this very intimate position, he whispered, "milady."

goosebumps arise on every cell in your body, as you two indulged in this dance.

the lively instrument along with overlapping voices gradually merging into one, sort of like as if they were a voluminous orchestra, soaring higher and higher with their vocal chords spiralling into utter euphoria with the blasting footsteps on the ground.

yet the man holding you close in his tender pacifying embrace, had you engulfed in solace; the spirited bustling soul of this town and the stark contrast of the serene soul enveloping yours blended in a perfect balance of home.

purring so lovable.

it had you speechless as his strong pair of arms held you up, bringing your feet up and beneath the ground in this hypnotising dance for a couple of times, spinning you gracefully one more time with the frame of your skirt swaying like a blooming flower in its glory— rendering your mind into utter malfunction.

floating and soaring up the air.

he then spun you around to face him, lifting you up with ease like a fairy floating up in the air, "y-your highness—jungwon!" your vision of the crowd all over the space grew hazy and dazed, with only you and him remaining crystal clear in the glowing frame. supporting yourself with your arms on his shoulder, you were about to protest and yet his eyes had such a breathtaking universe within it that it had you sealing your lips.

breathtaking indeed.

like a stone hopping on the ocean causing a butterfly effect of limitless blossoming ripples, it formed a hypnotising image that lured your soul closer to it’s deepest void, rendering you helpless in getting yourself out and yet you wish not to go, but to stay longer, to stay a bit more to see of what would come out of it. floating like a fairy amidst the dreamy ripple within his orbs, you stuttered from this prolonged magnetism gaze.

pit patter of the flowing fountain afar merged with a sudden burst of crackles.

flashes of voluminous sparks exploded within his orbs, your lips hung apart in awe as the dreamy ripples within it bursted into an ocean of light—that instead of a stone, it was like a single marble smashing into it’s void—forming thousands of scattered and shining golden beads of lights within those infatuated orbs, illuminating those engraved words of romances within it.

all solely for you.

you flinched at the exploding thunder-like shooting above the night sky that surpasses what your mind and ears could take, clenching your hand on his shoulder tighter in hopes to find solace, yet you caught sight of his lips mouthing two words that you took a while to process amidst the sound.

“beautiful indeed.. my firework.”

soaring and colourful, the whole city is immersed in the sound of this sea of bursting lights. crowd's roaring in awe surged through your ears, your cheeks met jungwon's chest as he lowered you down, protesting you did yet he hushed you to gaze upon the limitless neon flora blossoming on the starry glazed night sky; the blinding colourful lights illuminated the smile on everyone's face including yours and the prince.

shimmering gemstones rained upon the black velvet sky, forming a waterfall of lights in all sorts of colours and images; crimson petals of roses, aquamarine waves ushering to the seashore, white blanket of scattered snow powders, yellow fleeting dandelions, green blades of the field swaying with the breeze reluctantly slipping down the town, reflecting on the vast water lake.

it was as if the luminous sun had risen upon the town, and another one shooted above on your right side; blossoming its veil-like umbrella that had millions of garden petals on top of it to rain upon everyone. each and one of them had differing images of it representing itself, yet each and one of them was splendid, breathtaking and awe-inspiring.

it showers down the town like fleeting fairy dust.

"it's breathtaking, isn't it? it’s like a shooting star.."

"truly it is—” you flinched at his feline orbs gazing at you in awe, admiring you utterly as if you were the scenery of fireworks itself. you found yourself getting lost in those blossoming sparkles reflecting within his eyes once again.

"stop it."

"why would i?"

"just look at the damn fireworks, will you?" slightly biting your lips as you look away, breaking the prolonged eye contact.

"alright, milady." he shrugged in amusement. it remained in silence for a couple of minutes before he spoke again. "they say, couples who watched the fireworks together had their first kiss under it."

"u-uh?!"

"but milady, you had stolen a kiss from me." he leaned in playfully, flashes of colours illuminating his kittenish orbs and grin. "would you mind if i steal one, too?"

“i-i said stop teasing me!”

jungwon lets out a couple of lighthearted giggles at you attempting to punch him, sprinting and dodging you playfully, and as the both of you were immersed in your little game, the firework festival had wrapped up in one final splendid sight of bursting petals of garden.

glowing golden lanterns illuminating the sidewalk along the way, pit patters of pouring rain dropped on top of your extended palms out the window of the carriage, tender breeze of the night sky blows through your fallen hair locks as your eyes remained glued on the bouquet on your lap, along with his melody chords flowing through your ears like a lullaby.

it has reached past midnight when you two came back from the town, but on the way back home, jungwon had suggested for you to take a look at his quarters first, which you had initially denied due to obvious worrying reasons. yet today, as you delighted yourself in the bouquet of violets, and the sets of memories from the festival, you agreed with little to no hesitation. however along the hallway as you follow behind the prince, despite ignoring these blurbing thoughts—it dawns on you every passing second of what could happen once you step inside his room.

the sight of jungwon’s back facing you had your cheeks flushing immensely as you recalled his bare chest that day in your manor, mentally cussing yourself for even thinking of it. your brain had just got to be your greatest enemy in this moment after your heart, huh?

“y-you see.”

jungwon spun around to face you, yet still walking backwards with his hands interlaced behind his back. you stuttered at the euphoria evident on his cheeks and crinkled eyes, the moonlight from the vast window illuminated on the edges of his divinely sculptured face, and a faint shadow laying beneath his dimples.

“yes, milady?” this guy just really had to play it cool and nice as he sang the addressment in a playful manner.

“remember the pact, okay? i agreed to visit your quarters in order to just take a look, nothing more than that.” your eyes were on the long red carpet as you said that, yet you raise your head finally in order to see his reaction after an excruciating silence that occurs.

"i'd certainly would not dare, milady.. but if you insist." he shots a mischievous wink at your way, causing your already rampant heart to burst in a thousand volts.

shit.

seriously, you couldn't be bothered by this, aren't you? god knows how much filth you've written in the past few years of your life, you could even describe all of it without releasing a few screams or there, which shows how much of a pro you are.

after what seems like an eternity in the hallway, much to your groaning over your aching legs, you and the prince halted before the huge double door with engraved golden swirling patterns all over it.

you were beyond distraught when he pushed the door open to his room, revealing the entire outlook of the furniture, painting, couches, table, and lastly.. the king-sized bed.

bitch, get a hold on yourself. this isn't your first time.

your lips hang slightly apart to feign surprise as if this was your first time to be in his room, cause heck it wasn't obviously not the first time you've seen this place. you were the one who designed his room! this isn't your first time so why were you this nervous?!

“ugh—” you yelp in pain.

“does your feet hurt, milady?”

“no, no, it’s just aching, that is.” mentally cussing once again at how freaking long the hall in this palace was, you could’ve sworn it felt like you were going for the thousand stairs up to heaven. your head grew dazed when your vision slightly floated upwards from the floor, eyebrows deeply knitted together as to how are you up so high? your haze vision caught sight of your legs dangling up the air and slowly at the pair of strong arms carrying your legs, it finally dawned on you as you let out a yelp with the close proximity of the prince’s face against yours.

“wait- put me down! put me down!”

“hush, milady. you got to take some rest.”

“then in the couch! on the couch, right now!” you pleaded within the depths of your mind, oh my god. oh my god please god help me!

“the couch is not ideal for this situation.” he reasoned with you, not even budging nor pausing in his way to the king-sized bed.

🎵...STUCK IN LOVE

“what is not ideal?!” you whimpered as he placed you on the edge of the bed, taken aback at how he simply gets on the floor with one knee, rubbing your feet after pulling out your shoes. the prince poured his utmost concentration in massaging your aching feet, with his long fingers rubbing and stroking your sole in circular motion. to your surprise, he had been doing this for a whole good ten minutes without saying anything.

you didn’t expect this at all, were you that dirty-minded?! groaning within, you weep to the deities to cleanse your mind at least.

“milady is so worked up for nothing, i wonder what could she be thinking about?” you gave him a deadpan look at how he obviously was teasing you to death.

“stop teasing me.”

“hm? why not? teasing you has been my greatest hobby for awhile now, milady.”

“i said stop it, i dare you or else—”

“or else.. what?” your head blasted in utter chaos when he lets your feet down, leaning closer and closer.

“s-stop!”

“or else.. what, milady?” jungwon cooed, tucking your hair locks behind your ear. “i’m awfully curious.." he pushed you on top of the bed, hovering over you as he caged you within his arms on both sides of your head.

"milady."

your breath caught up on the back of your throat with the sight of him on top of you, akin to a predator about to feast on its prey, due to his feline orbs switching to an expression you very well knew what it means.

"that's certainly brave of you, don't you think? milady?" he keeps emphasising the last word as if he adores to call you that very much, adding such a seductive tone had your heart skipping a beat. "kissing me in front of other ladies, that's quite a fascinating trait."

a thousand hazardous beats, actually. you really can't do this. "i mean, i don't know.."

"milady." he whispered. "are you really shy?" giggles emerged causing tingles on your neck. "after kissing me?"

"c-can you just stop messing with me?!"

"as you wish, milady." he pressed a passionate kiss on your forehead, chanting the word a dozen more times as he continued on making you feel so loved.

his affectionate gestures were driving your bones into weakness and your knees to marshmallows as you indulge yourself in his love—the love he bestows only for you.

"milady, come." his lips brushed against your hair, and to your surprise, he grabbed your hand and pulled you on your feet. surprise and speechless you was as nothing had gone past the limits you placed for him, and the fact that he did nothing but simply tease you does wonders to your heart.

your mind floated into confusion as he urged you to take a seat in front of the big round mirror with a golden frame, letting you view yourself and the prince in the glassy reflection.

you sat there in silence; curious, confused, and a bit intrigued blended with tiny traces of fear of what he intended to do. your heart skips a beat when you observe him taking your hair locks on his palms as he feels it against his cheek, it was an eccentric lovesick sight of him. his long fingers wrapped around the handle of the hair brush on the side of the table, he brushes the piece of your hair locks in his palms gently with it.

"i adore it when you call me 'your prince'."

you felt uneasy, a whole new different meaning of uneasiness as his small gesture of brushing your hair had your heart burbling into forms you couldn't understand. what is this feeling? why was he so gentle and loving with you? for what?

after what felt like eternity, he lets your hair down. his fingers brushes against your bare shoulder which had you flinching slightly. he notices this, the corners of his lips pulling up as he caresses your bare skin with the back of his hand, excruciatingly slow and tiny, tremendously affectionate and enamoured.

he knelt down before you, taking both of your hands in his, engaging it—bringing it on his cheeks which causes you to feel the sensation of his skin. then his lips ghosted across your fingers as he pressed a long deep kiss on top of your hand.

the sensation of his lips has your face flushing in utter mess, you wanted to stay calm and yet these tiny gestures he claimed as a lover's vow, had you crumbling into his hands.

his other hand plucks out a single violet from the bouquet, tucking your hair behind your ear as he pushes the flora in. caressing your hair after in such an affectionate manner.

"milady," his feline eyes raised to gaze deep into your crumbling soul, "i wonder if i am worthy enough to be your lover?"

speechless as your tongue tied on its own, gulping immensely. "my lover?.. just why are you so damn infatuated with me? i don't understand, this must be a joke, isn't?"

"i am not joking, milady. just as you called me your man that day," jungwon spoke, as sincerity engulfed his voice, "i myself also desire to call you my woman.. and not just my woman.."

his hand reaches down to hold your hands in his again, grasping it with burning passion.

"..my lover, my wife, the queen of this nation, and if you would like to someday.. the mother of my future child."

after a couple seconds of silence of you being utterly speechless at his words, he then spoke again with his wavering boba orbs, tongue lapping his lower lip in obvious uneasiness. “all i need is your permission, and one word from you, milady.”

those strings of words holding traces, no, a heavy scent and weight of undying love—he basically just professed his love for you, and proposed to you this time in a more appropriate, intimate, and affectionate way.

to you, he was the garden that slowly held you in his lush bed of comfort. to him, you were the flower that made this garden blooming so evergreen. the violet to his eyes.

the choice is all yours, what is your answer, milady?

「 © talesofyuan on tumblr 2023 」 all rights reserved. do not copy or post without permission.

💌 TAGLIST: @rinirou @moonchus @seonushine @nourhan-8 @heeseungsim @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @ineedsomezzz @chaechae-23 @axartia @altgojo

[lila-lou]

✨Beyond saving - Pt. 3✨

Summary: I hate summaries, so this is part 3 of "Beyond saving".

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only!, Smut, mention of rape (well, detailed), Language, Angst, Hurt, soft dean (literally), it´s just a loooot

Word Count: 7600

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

As another week has passed, Sam entered the kitchen, noticing you sitting alone on the ground, your eyes fixed on the table where Dean had inflicted so much pain upon you. He approached you cautiously, sensing the weight of your emotions hanging heavy in the air.

"Hey", Sam said softly. "How are you holding up?".

You glanced up at him, your eyes weary and filled with sadness. "I'm… I'm trying", you replied hoarsely, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sam sat down beside you, offering a comforting presence as he reached out to gently squeeze your hand. "I know it's not easy", he said sympathetically.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you leaned into Sam's embrace, the weight of your pain almost too much to bear.

"I know it's hard to believe right now, but Dean still loves you", he said gently. "He's hurting too, maybe even more than you realize. He hates himself for what he's done to you, for what the demonic version of himself did. It wasn't the real Dean, you know that, right?".

You nodded slowly, tears brimming in your eyes as you struggle to come to terms with Sam's words. "I want to believe that. But it's so hard, Sam. Every time I look at him, all I can see is… is what he did to me".

"I know", he mumbled. "But you have to remember that Dean would do anything to take back what happened, to make things right between you two. He's fighting his own demons right now, just like you are. And I know that deep down, he's still the man you fell in love with".

"I know it's going to take time", he said gently. "But I truly believe that you and Dean can find your way back to each other. You've been through so much together, and I know that love doesn't just disappear overnight".

"Thank you, Sam", you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I don't know what I would do without you".

Sam smiled warmly, giving your hand another reassuring squeeze. "You don't have to thank me. We're family, and family looks out for each other. We'll get through this together, I promise".

As the days passed, you found yourself greeted each morning by the aroma of freshly prepared meals and the sight of a bouquet of flowers adorning your doorstep. With each delivery, your heart ached with a mixture of longing and hesitation, unsure of how to respond to Dean's gestures of remorse and affection.

Yet, despite your reservations, you couldn't deny the sincerity of his efforts. Each handwritten note contained memories of the happiest moments you had shared together, reminding you of the love and joy that had once filled your relationship.

With each meal and each note, Dean sought to bridge the gap between you, to remind you of the bond that had once bound you together. And though you remained guarded, the warmth of his gestures began to thaw the icy walls around your heart, slowly but surely.

As you sat alone in your room, reading through Dean's heartfelt words and savoring the meals he had prepared, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope stirring within you. Perhaps, just perhaps, there was a chance for forgiveness and reconciliation after all. And with that thought in mind, you found yourself daring to believe in the possibility of a brighter future, one where love and trust could prevail over pain and sorrow.

As the days passed, you found yourself slowly opening up to the idea of letting him back into your life, of giving him a chance to make amends for the pain he had caused.

With each meal he prepared and each note he left, Dean showed you that he was willing to do whatever it took to earn your forgiveness and rebuild the trust that had been shattered.

Two weeks later, as Sam ordered Pizza, Dean made his way towards sam and the delicious smell. As Dean reached for the pizza, a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks. Startled, he turned to see you sitting next to Sam, your gaze fixed on your hands clasped tightly in your lap. For a moment, he hesitated, unsure of what to do or say.

But then, a flicker of hope ignited within him as he realized what this moment meant. After weeks of isolation and silence, you had finally taken a step forward.

With cautious optimism, Dean approached you, his movements slow and deliberate. He sat down beside you, careful not to startle you, his heart pounding with uncertainty.

"Hey", he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's, uh, it's good to see you".

You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his briefly before flickering away. Dean's heart ached at the sight of your pain.

As the dinner progressed, a heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by the occasional clinking of utensils against plates. Dean tried to muster up the courage to speak, to break the tension that seemed to suffocate the room, but the words caught in his throat.

Your gaze fixed on your plate, unable to meet Dean's eyes or engage in conversation. Every fiber of your being screamed with discomfort, your stomach churning with anxiety from being in such close proximity to him.

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his heart heavy with guilt and regret. He longed to reach out to you, to apologize for everything he had put you through, but he knew that words alone would never be enough to mend the damage he had caused.

Finally, unable to bear the suffocating silence any longer, Sam cleared his throat, breaking the tension with a forced smile. "So, uh, how's the pizza?", he asked, attempting to steer the conversation away from the elephant in the room.

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to speak, your throat tight with emotion. Dean swallowed hard, his own discomfort palpable as he forced himself to take a bite of his pizza, the taste turning to ash in his mouth.

Despite his best efforts to push aside his guilt and make things right, Dean couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over him like a dark cloud. As the dinner dragged on, he couldn't help but wonder if he would ever be able to truly make amends for the pain he had caused you.

As the tension lingered, Sam attempted to lighten the mood with small talk, but his efforts fell flat against the weight of the unspoken turmoil between you and Dean. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, the heaviness in the air suffocating.

Dean's heart ached with every glance he stole in your direction, the sight of your pain etched into every line of your face piercing him like a knife. He wanted nothing more than to reach out to you, to beg for your forgiveness.

For you, the meal was a torturous ordeal, you struggled to suppress the torrent of emotions threatening to consume you.

After dinner, Sam tentatively suggested watching a movie together, hoping to provide a distraction from the heavy atmosphere that lingered between you and Dean. He could see the strain etched on both of your faces and desperately wanted to find a way to bring a sense of normalcy back to your lives.

You hesitated, the thought of spending more time in Dean's presence filling you with dread. But with a small nod from Sam, you reluctantly agreed.

As Sam set up the movie, you and Dean found yourselves sitting on opposite ends of the couch, a palpable distance separating you. The air was thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension, but for the moment, you both focused on the screen in front of you, allowing the movie to serve as a temporary escape from the turmoil that surrounded you.

Despite the heaviness that still hung in the air, there was a glimmer of hope in Sam's eyes as he watched the two of you attempt to coexist in the same space. He knew that healing would take time and effort, but he was determined to do whatever it took to bring his family back together, one small step at a time. And as the movie played on, he silently prayed that tonight would mark the beginning of a new chapter for all of you.

As the movie played on, Dean found it nearly impossible to tear his gaze away from you, his heart aching with every fleeting glance he stole in your direction.

A torrent of guilt and remorse washed over him, threatening to drown him in its depths.

In that moment, Dean would have given anything to ease your suffering, to take away the pain that he had inflicted upon you. If cutting out his own heart and offering it to you would mean healing your wounded soul, he would do it in a heartbeat.

But as he sat there, watching you, he felt utterly powerless, his own torment mirrored in your tear-stained eyes.

Another week passed, and tentatively, you began to open up to Dean once more. Your heart clenched with uncertainty as you heard his voice, but you knew that avoiding him forever would only prolong the pain for both of you. So, you found yourselves sitting across from each other at the large map-table.

Dean's question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. "Are you able to sleep again?", he asked, his voice laced with concern and regret.

You hesitated for a moment, the memories of sleepless nights and haunted dreams flooding back to you. But then, with a small nod, you found the strength to answer. "Yeah, I am", you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

It was a small victory, but it felt like a significant step forward.

"I'm so sorry", he whispered, his words heavy with regret. "I can't even begin to express how sorry I am for what I did to you".

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you met his gaze. "You hurt me, Dean", you said, your voice quivering with emotion. "You hurt me in ways I never thought possible".

Dean's expression crumpled, his heart breaking as he listened to your words. "I know", he murmured, his voice choked with tears. "I know and I hate myself for it".

"You… you raped me, Dean", you continued, the words catching in your throat. "You violated me in the worst possible way".

Tears fell down Dean's face as he listened to your confession, the weight of his actions bearing down on him like a crushing weight. "I'm so sorry", he repeated. "I'm so sorry for what I did to you".

You took a shaky breath, your heart heavy with pain. "I want you to understand", you said, your voice wavering with emotion. "I want you to understand what you did to me".

"You shoved me against the table, Dean. You didn't care that I was begging you to stop. You didn't care that I was in pain".

Dean´s voice choked with tears. "I know, I know. I was a monster. I should have never—". But you cut him off. "You broke my wrists, Dean. Do you even realize how much that hurt? Every time I moved, every time I tried to do anything, I was in agony".

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I never should have touched you".

By now, your voice was trembling with emotion. "And my ribs, Dean. You broke them too. Every breath felt like knives stabbing into my chest. I couldn't even breathe without feeling like I was going to pass out". Tears started streaming down your face.

"And then you… you fucked me until I bled, Dean. Do you understand what you did to me? Do you understand how much pain you caused?". You paused. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive you, Dean. But I want you to know… I want you to know what you did to me".

Dean sat there with teary eyes and wet cheeks, his heart breaking with each word that fell from your lips. He listened to the pain in your voice, the anguish in your eyes.

Every detail you recounted of the horrors he had inflicted upon you pierced his soul like a thousand knives. He couldn't bear to look away, couldn't bear to turn his gaze from your tear-streaked face.

In that moment, he felt the weight of his actions crush him with a force he had never known before. He wanted nothing more than to reach out, to hold you close. But he knew that he didn't deserve it, knew that he had caused you too much pain to ever be worthy of your love again.

All he could do was sit there, his heart heavy with regret, and pray that somehow, someday, he could find a way to make amends for the irreparable damage he had done.

"I lay there for hours", you confessed, the memories still vivid in your mind. "I couldn't move, couldn't even catch my breath. Every inch of my body was screaming in pain, and all I could do was lie there and pray for it to end".

You continue, your voice laced with bitterness and sorrow. "After that, I stopped looking for you", you admit, the words heavy on your tongue. "I stopped trying to save you, stopped caring".

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of your words sinking in.

Dean's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he listened to your words, his knuckles white from the tight grip he held on his emotions. "I wanted to kill myself", he confessed in a voice barely above a whisper. "That's how much I hated myself for what I did to you".

Your words cut through the heavy silence like a knife, each syllable dripping with the bitterness of your pain. "I'm already dead because of what you did to me", you said, your voice laced with a coldness that sent a shiver down Dean's spine.

His eyes closed in anguish, the weight of your words bearing down on him like a crushing burden. You were his everything, the love of his life, and the thought of spending his days without you was unbearable.

"I wanted to marry you, to build a future together", Dean whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I wanted to have children with you, to grow old with you by my side. But I… I broke you".

The pain and heartache radiating from him was palpable, and despite your own suffering, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of empathy for the man who had once held your heart in his hands.

"I know", you finally replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know you're hurting, Dean. But… but what you did to me, it's something I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive".

Dean's shoulders sagged with the weight of your words, his gaze dropping to the floor as he struggled to contain his emotions.

"I understand", he said softly, his voice tinged with regret. "I don't expect you to forgive me, not after what I've done".

During the following two weeks, Dean spared no effort to demonstrate that he was no longer the monster he had once been. He cooked for you, cleaned the bunker without being asked, and even went out of his way to avoid any situation that might make you uncomfortable. Every gesture was infused with a desperate longing for redemption, a silent plea for your forgiveness.

As you sat in the TV room, enveloped by the soft glow of the screen, a bowl of popcorn nestled in your lap, you felt a sense of tentative peace settle over you. It was the first evening Dean and you had been alone since Sam and Cas had left on their hunt, and for once, the weight of the past seemed to lift ever so slightly from your shoulders.

Lost in the movie playing before you, you barely noticed when Dean appeared in the doorway. His eyes lingered on you, filled with longing.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. But then, with a hesitant step forward, Dean cleared his throat, breaking the tense silence that had settled over the room.

"Mind if I join you?", he asked, his voice tentative as he gestured to the empty space beside you on the couch.

You hesitated, torn between the desire to push him away and the faint glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be different this time. After a moment's pause, you nodded silently, scooting over to make room for him on the couch.

As Dean settled in beside you, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his eyes softening with gratitude and relief.

Dean watched you, his gaze lingering on your profile as you became engrossed in the movie playing on the screen. A flicker of recognition crossed his features as he realized it was the same movie from your first night together in the bunker—the night when everything had felt so new and full of promise.

"You remember this?", he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he glanced at you, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips as memories of that night flooded back. "Yeah", you replied, your voice tinged with warmth. "It feels like a lifetime ago".

Dean's expression softened at your words, sadness clouding his features. "I miss those days", he admitted. "I miss us".

You turned to look at him. "I miss us too", you whispered.

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, lost in memories of happier times.

Dean hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hope or forgiveness. "Are you willing to give me another chance?", he asked quietly. "All I want is to make things right, to hold you in my arms and ease your pain. I want to heal what I destroyed, to show you that I'm not the same person I was back then".

You felt a tug at your heartstrings as you looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and regret reflected in their depths. Part of you wanted to believe him. But another part of you was still wary, still hesitant to open yourself up to the possibility of being hurt again.

"I don't know, Dean", you admitted. "I want to believe that you're capable of being the man I once loved. But… I'm scared. Scared of getting hurt again".

Dean's heart sank at your words. "I understand", he said softly, his voice tinged with sadness. "I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, to show you that I'm worthy of a second chance. Just… please don't give up on me".

As you sat there, grappling with the tumultuous emotions swirling inside you, memories of your past with Dean flooded your mind. You couldn't deny the depth of your love for him, even now, despite the pain and betrayal you had endured.

You remembered the way he used to make you laugh, the warmth of his embrace, and the way his touch could make your heart race with excitement. Despite everything that had happened, a part of you still longed for those moments of intimacy and connection that you had once shared with him.

But alongside the memories of love and happiness, there was also the lingering shadow of pain. You couldn't forget the agony of that fateful night, the way Dean had shattered your trust and left you broken and bruised.

Yet, as you looked into his eyes now, you saw the same love and longing reflected back at you.

Dean's voice trembled with emotion as he opened up to you, his words raw and filled with longing. "I've missed you so much", he mumbled. "I miss the way you used to sleep on my chest, your soft breathing. I miss the sound of your laughter, the way it could light up a room and make all the darkness disappear".

He reached out tentatively, as if afraid you might pull away, and gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. "Without you, I'm lost".

You felt a tug at your heartstrings as you listened to his words, seeing the pain and vulnerability in his eyes. Despite everything that had happened between you, you couldn't deny the depth of his love for you, or the longing in his voice as he spoke of wanting to make things right.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you locked eyes with Dean, his gaze searching yours with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. A whirlwind of emotions churned inside you—fear, longing, uncertainty—each vying for dominance as you grappled with the decision before you.

Part of you wanted to pull away, to retreat into the safety of your own walls and protect yourself from the possibility of being hurt again. But another part of you, a part that still held onto the memories of love and happiness you had shared with Dean, yearned for connection, for healing, for the chance to rebuild what had been broken between you.

And so, with trembling hands and a heart that threatened to burst from your chest, you leaned in slowly, ever so slowly, towards Dean. Each inch felt like an eternity, the weight of your decision heavy on your shoulders as you closed the distance between you.

As your lips met his in a tentative kiss, a surge of emotion washed over you, overwhelming in its intensity. It was a moment of vulnerability, of raw honesty, as you allowed yourself to let go of the pain and hurt that had consumed you for so long.

You cupped Dean's face in your hands, feeling the rough stubble beneath your fingertips as you leaned into the kiss, savoring the warmth of his lips against yours.

Dean hesitated for a moment, unsure where to place his hands, afraid of scaring you away with too much intimacy. His heart clenched at the touch of your lips, a familiar ache settling in his chest as he finally felt the softness of your kiss again after so long.

Despite the pain that lingered in your heart, there was a sense of comfort in Dean's embrace, a familiarity that whispered of happier times gone by. For a moment, the world fell away as you lost yourself in the sweetness of the moment, each kiss a silent promise of hope and redemption.

But beneath the surface, there was still a lingering sense of uncertainty, a fear of the unknown that threatened to overshadow the fragile connection you were trying to rebuild. And yet, as you pulled away from the kiss, a glimmer of hope flickered in your heart.

With a shaky, uncertain voice, you whispered the words that had been lingering on the tip of your tongue, the silent plea of your heart reaching out to him. "Hold me", you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the words trembling with the weight of your uncertainty.

Dean's heart skipped a beat at your request, his chest tightening with a mixture of hope and fear. Without a moment's hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close against his chest as though afraid you might slip away if he let go.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of his skin as tears welled in your eyes.

Dean's hands trembled as he gingerly brushed over your back, his touch tentative yet filled with a quiet tenderness. With each gentle stroke, he tried to convey the depth of his remorse, the ache in his heart mirrored in the way his fingers traced soothing patterns against your trembling form.

You clung to him tightly, your tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt as you let out the pain and anguish. Your body shook with the force of your sobs, the emotional turmoil threatening to consume you entirely.

With a tenderness born of regret and longing, Dean pulled you closer to him, his lips hovering over your forehead as he held you in his embrace. His touch was gentle, his fingers tracing soothing circles along your back as you continued to sob against his chest.

Tears welled in Dean's eyes as he looked down at you, his heart heavy with the weight of his past mistakes and the knowledge of the pain he had caused you.

"I love you", he whispered softly, his voice filled with emotion. "More than anything in this world. I'm so sorry for what I've done to you, for the pain I've caused. But please know that my love for you has never faltered, not for a single moment".

As you looked up at him, your tear-stained cheeks and trembling lips betraying the turmoil within you, Dean's thumb gently brushed away your tears with a tenderness that spoke volumes. His eyes searched yours, silently asking for permission, for reassurance that this fragile moment of connection wouldn't shatter beneath the weight of your shared past.

With a trembling breath, you leaned into his touch, your heart pounding in your chest as his lips met yours once more. The kiss was featherlight, tentative yet filled with an undeniable longing—a silent plea for forgiveness, for understanding, for a chance to start anew.

As the kiss deepened, the world around you faded into oblivion, leaving only the two of you entwined in a moment of raw emotion and longing. With a newfound sense of courage, you straddled Dean's legs, your hands finding their way to his cheeks as you deepened the kiss, your lips moving with a desperate urgency born of years of pent-up emotion and longing.

Dean's hands remained at his sides, a silent testament to his fear of causing you further pain or discomfort. He was surprised by your boldness, by the intensity of your kiss, but he dared not move, afraid that any sudden gesture might startle you and send you fleeing from his arms once more.

Instead, he surrendered to the moment, allowing himself to be consumed by the warmth of your lips, the softness of your touch.

As the kiss intensified, your tongue seeking entrance to his mouth, you felt a surge of desire coursing through your veins. Your hands roamed over Dean's broad shoulders, urging him to reciprocate, to touch you in return. Yet, he remained still, his hands trembling slightly at his sides as if unsure of what to do.

But then, as you pressed closer, seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace, you felt it—a hardness pressing against you, eliciting a gasp of surprise from your lips. Dean's erection, unmistakable beneath the thin fabric of your pajamas, sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your body, freezing you in place.

For a moment, you were paralyzed, unsure of how to proceed. The realization of what was happening between you, of the undeniable attraction and desire that pulsed between your bodies, sent your mind reeling. Could this be happening? Could Dean still desire you, after everything that had transpired between you?

But before you could gather your thoughts, Dean's voice broke through.

"I… I'm sorry", Dean murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to find the right words. "I didn't mean to… I just…".

His voice trailed off, his gaze dropping to the floor as if unable to meet your eyes. You could see the conflict etched on his face, the turmoil raging within him as he grappled with his own desires and fears.

"It's okay", you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you reached out to cup his cheek, gently guiding his gaze back to yours.

But even as you spoke the words, uncertainty gnawed at the edges of your mind. Could you truly forgive Dean for what he had done? Could you trust him again, after the pain and betrayal he had inflicted upon you?

As you took Dean's hands in yours, feeling the tremble of your own shaking fingers, you guided them slowly and cautiously to your hips. The simple act of touch sent a jolt of electricity through both of you, causing Dean's heart to race and his body to react with a twitch of arousal.

But despite the undeniable chemistry between you, Dean remained hesitant, his eyes searching yours for any sign of uncertainty or discomfort. He wanted to be sure, absolutely sure, that you were okay with this, that you were ready to take this step together.

For a moment, the air between you crackled with tension, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the space between your bodies. But then, as you met his gaze with unwavering determination, Dean felt a surge of courage welling up inside him.

With a shaky breath, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative kiss. It was soft, gentle, a silent promise of all the things left unsaid between you.

Dean's voice trembled as he spoke, his words laced with both desire and restraint. "Do you… Do you want to go to our bedroom?", he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation or reluctance.

You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you at his words, a mixture of longing and apprehension swirling in your chest. The idea of being alone with Dean in the intimacy of your shared bedroom filled you with both excitement and trepidation, a reminder of the love and passion that had once defined your relationship.

But as you looked into Dean's eyes, seeing the vulnerability, you knew that this was a chance for healing, for closure, for the two of you to finally confront the demons of your past and forge a path forward together.

With a nod, you reached out to take his hand in yours, squeezing it gently as you rose to your feet. "Yes", you whispered.

Dean walked slowly, his footsteps deliberate and measured, as if he were afraid to rush or startle you. His hand, warm and comforting, brushed against yours in a gentle caress, a silent reassurance of his presence by your side.

As you followed behind him, the hallway stretched out before you like an endless expanse, each step echoing the rhythm of your racing heart. And as Dean finally reached the door to your bedroom, he turned to look at you, his eyes soft with emotion. Without a word, he reached out and gently pushed the door open, inviting you into the sanctuary of your shared space.

With a shaky breath, you stepped across the threshold, the weight of the past hanging heavy in the air around you. But as Dean closed the door behind you, shutting out the outside world, you felt a sense of peace settle over you.

Dean hesitated for a moment. "Is it okay if I… if I pick you up?", he asked softly.

You nodded slowly, your own voice barely above a whisper as you replied, "Yes, that's okay".

With a gentle smile, Dean reached out and scooped you up in his arms, his touch surprisingly tender as he cradled you against his chest. Despite the years that had passed, the memory of his strength and warmth flooded back to you, comforting and familiar.

As he carried you across the room, his movements slow and deliberate, you felt a sense of trust and safety wash over you, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that still existed between you.

And as he carefully lowered you onto the bed, his touch was feather-light against your skin.

As Dean hovered halfway over you, he hesitated, his voice trembling with nerves as he asked, "Would… would it be better if you were on top?".

You noticed the veins on his throat and arms standing out, evidence of the effort he was exerting to hold back for you. "It's alright", he mumbled. "If you want to be on top, it's fine".

His eyes searched yours for a moment, before you nodded slowly and before Dean lowered himself down beside you, his body trembling with anticipation and desire.

Dean´s fingers trembling slightly as he began to undo the buttons of your pajama shirt.

With a gentle touch, he lowered his mouth to your neck, trailing soft kisses along your skin as his hand slipped beneath the fabric of your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Are you okay?", he asked softly, his voice laced with concern as he brushed the shirt off your shoulders, revealing your naked breasts to him.

You met his gaze with a mixture of emotions swirling in your eyes—vulnerability, longing, and a hint of fear. But despite the tumultuous storm raging within you, you nodded slowly, offering him a small, reassuring smile. "I'm okay", you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper as you reached out to cup his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

With a gentle touch, Dean leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss, his hands trailing down your body as he continued to undress you, his touch both reverent and filled with longing.

As you straddled his la, got rid of his shirt and pulled Dean closer, your body pressed against his, you feel the warmth of his skin against yours, sending shivers down your spine. Your nipples graze against his now naked chest, eliciting a soft moan from both of you. Dean's arousal, evident and undeniable, presses eagerly against you.

Dean's hand ventured beneath your pajama pants, his touch sending tingles of anticipation through your body. As his fingers brushed against your skin, he realized you weren't wearing underwear, and a soft gasp escaped his lips. His hand hovered tantalizingly close to your pussy, his breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts.

"Can I touch you there?", he asked quietly.

Dean's heart skipped a beat as he watched you nod slowly, your breath heavy and your heart racing in sync with his own. The anticipation hung thick in the air, a palpable tension that seemed to crackle with electricity. With a nervous bite of your lip, you gave him the permission he sought, sending a surge of desire coursing through his veins.

His hand trembled slightly as it moved lower, tracing the contours of your soft folds. You let out a soft moan of pleasure, your body arching instinctively towards his touch.

Dean's touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. With each gentle stroke, he teased and tantalized, his fingers dancing over your most intimate parts with a skill that left you breathless. Your head spun with desire as he explored every inch of you, driving you to the brink of ecstasy with each passing moment.

As the heat between you grew, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you locked in a passionate embrace. In that moment, there was nothing else that mattered—no past, no future, only the raw, primal desire that burned between you.

As Dean felt the warmth and wetness between your thighs, he knew you were ready. With slow, deliberate movements, he began to ease down your pajama pants, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched for any sign of discomfort or hesitation.

"You okay?", he murmured softly, his voice laced with concern as he continued to undress you.

You nodded eagerly, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts as you struggled to contain your desire. "Yes, Dean", you whispered. "I want this".

With a final tug, your pants were discarded, leaving you completely exposed before him. And as Dean rid himself of his own sweatpants and boxers, you couldn't help but marvel at the sight of him—powerful and virile, his desire evident in every line and curve of his body.

Your breath hitched as you caught sight of Dean's erection, fear and uncertainty flashing in your eyes as he hovered above you. Sensing your hesitation, Dean froze, his own desire momentarily forgotten as he looked down at you with concern.

"Are you okay?", he asked softly, his voice filled with tenderness as he searched your eyes for any sign of discomfort or unease.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to find your voice. "I'm just… I'm scared", you admitted.

Dean's expression softened, a look of understanding and compassion flickering in his eyes. "I won't hurt you, I promise", he whispered. "I'll go as slow as you need me to".

Feeling reassured by his words, you let out a shaky breath, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Thank you", you murmured, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

As Dean continued to kiss you, his lips soft and gentle against yours, you couldn't help but feel a sense of tension and apprehension creeping into your body. Despite his best efforts to reassure you, you remained nervous and tense, unable to fully let go of the fear that still lingered within you.

Sensing your unease, Dean pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours again. When he saw the hurt reflected in your gaze, his heart clenched.

"What can I do to help you relax?", he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine concern. "I want to make this special for you, to show you how much I care. Just tell me what you need, and I'll do it".

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to express the turmoil raging within you. But then, with a shaky breath, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need… I need you to be patient with me", you admitted, your words tinged with vulnerability. "I need you to understand that I'm still scared. And I need you to hold me, to reassure me that everything will be okay".

Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest in a tight embrace. And as you melted into his arms, you felt a sense of comfort and safety wash over you, the tension slowly beginning to ebb away in the warmth of his embrace.

"I'll be gentle, I promise", he murmured, his voice soothing and tender. "We'll go slow, at your pace. Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?".

You nodded, a sense of trust and gratitude washing over you as you buried your face in his chest. "Okay", you whispered.

With a gentle sigh, Dean leaned down and captured your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. His touch was soft and tentative, his lips moving against yours with a tender reverence that made your heart flutter.

As the kiss deepened, you felt his erection pressing against your wet folds, the sensation sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. Despite your lingering apprehension, you couldn't deny the undeniable chemistry between you, the desire that burned hot and fierce between your bodies.

With a soft moan, you pressed yourself against him, your hips rocking instinctively against his, seeking the delicious friction that would ease the ache deep within you.

Dean’s breath was heavy with anticipation as he looked down at you, his eyes burning with desire and longing. “Can I…?”, he began, nodding towards his between the two of you. His hand moved to his shaft, as if to emphasize his need.

Your heart raced at the thought of finally feeling him inside you again, of surrendering yourself to the passion and intensity of your shared desire. But a flicker of uncertainty danced in your eyes, a lingering reminder of the pain and heartache that had once torn you apart.

“I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with”, he assured you. “I just want to make you feel good, to show you how much I love you”.

With a shaky nod, you reached out and took his hand in yours, guiding him towards you. As his lips met yours in a passionate kiss, you felt the heat and urgency of his desire washing over you, igniting a fire deep within your core.

As Dean pressed slowly inside you, his movements careful and measured as he sought to ease your discomfort. But as he felt you wince beneath him, he immediately stopped, concern flashing in his eyes.

“Are you okay?”, he asked softly, his voice filled with worry. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you”.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you met Dean’s gaze. “It’s okay”, you assured him, your voice trembling slightly with emotion. “I just… I need a moment”.

Dean nodded understandingly, his heart aching at the sight of your discomfort. “I’ll stop”, he whispered, his voice filled with regret. “I should have been more patient with you, especially after… after everything”.

You reached out and placed a hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm. “You’ve always been patient with me”, you murmured, your voice filled with gratitude and love. “Even before that awful night”.

Dean’s eyes softened at your words. “I just want to make things right”, he whispered.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the wave of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. "I want you to go on", you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want to replace those memories of that terrible night with something beautiful, something loving".

Dean's eyes widened in surprise, his heart swelling. "Are you sure?".

You nodded, your gaze never wavering as you met his eyes with unwavering determination. "I'm sure", you whispered. "I want this, Dean. I want us".

As Dean slowly pushed himself inside you, the sensation of being filled with him once again sent shivers down your spine. You moaned softly and breathlessly, your body instinctively responding to his touch. But just as Dean buried himself completely within you, the memories of that terrible night crashed over him like a tidal wave.

His movements faltered, his breath catching in his throat as he felt the weight of his past mistakes bearing down on him. Closing his eyes tightly, he tried to push the memories aside, to focus on the here and now, on the love and desire that flowed between you. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape the haunting images that lingered in the depths of his mind.

Feeling himself going soft again inside you, Dean’s heart clenched with frustration and self-loathing. He wanted nothing more than to give you pleasure, to show you how much he loved you, but the ghosts of his past refused to release their grip on him.

With a heavy sigh, Dean pulled away from you. “I’m sorry”, he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I just… I can’t do this right now”. His gaze full of shame, as he got up from the bed and started to get dressed.

As you pulled up the blanket, your heart sank at the sight of Dean's retreating figure. Anxiety gnawed at your insides as you watched him hastily get dressed, his movements tense and hurried. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, each one more tumultuous than the last.

Was it something you did? Something you said? Was your hesitation the reason he couldn't stay hard? The weight of your own self-doubt threatened to suffocate you as you struggled to make sense of the situation.

Dean couldn't even look at you right now, so consumed was he by his own guilt and remorse.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you watched him hastily getting dressed, his actions leaving you feeling confused and hurt. The weight of your own self-doubt pressed down on you like a heavy burden as you struggled to make sense of what had just happened.

“Did I do something wrong?”, you asked, your voice trembling with emotion as you fought to keep the tears at bay. “Was it because of me?”.

Dean paused, his hand hovering over his belt as he turned to face you. For a moment, it looked like he wanted to say something, to reassure you that it wasn’t your fault. But before he could utter a word, the door swung open, and Sam burst into the room, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight before him.

Misinterpreting the situation, Sam’s eyes darted between you and Dean, confusion evident on his face. “What’s going on?”, he asked, his voice tinged with concern as he took in the scene before him.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

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Part 4

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Taglist: @mayafatimakhan

[josphitia]

Josie's Cow HRT Journey Part 5 - Groceries and Friendship

*BeepBeep* *BeepBeep* *BeepBeep*

“Alright alright, I'm up…” *Yawn* “Ugh, my hair’s a mess…” I said groggily, reaching for the cheap comb I kept in the drawer by my mirror. “How is my hair so tangled and what is with this headache…” As I began to sift my hair, suddenly-

*Snap* was the sound as the teeth of the comb broke off, spiraling to the ground. They struck something hard, something unexpected, something that were-

“H-horns? *My* horns?” I muttered as I investigated the source of where the comb struggled and lost. I started to tear up as I parted my hair with my fingers. There they were, two small buds that had emerged from my skull. The first official start of my transition into the boviness I really was. Crying was the beginning of my morning that day, but it was a release of pure joy. I just kept staring at the two small glints of keratin that were stubbornly pushing their way through my scalp.

From there the changes came quickly one after the other over the coming days. I could see, I could feel, my body gratefully and ecstatically accepting the new hormones coursing through my body. Every day I found new developments to investigate: My ears began to taper into a point. My nails were taking on a dark, cloudy tint; as well as hardening themselves into stronger material. My canines were slowly becoming duller. There was a small nub at the bottom of my spine, a tail waiting for the right encouragement to spring forth. I felt a constant warmness radiating from inside me, with a growing hunger rising each day reminding me of the fuel I needed for my advancements.

Small, rounded, lattice-work hairs started to sprout over the whole of my body. It was like a thousand small needle pricks. A subtle stinging that I felt constantly over every inch of my skin, but focused primarily on my arms, legs, and face at these early stages. The Endo theorized that I can expect my fur to be the same color as the hair on my head, if a few degrees lighter in shade. My fur is going to be a beautiful shade of creamy brown, she said.

But the most prominent mutation was with my face itself. The pain was a numbing fire as I could feel my face elongating, my muzzle slowly growing to a flattened point. As if to fill any empty space created from my changes, my tongue was also growing suit. If my canines were still sharp I would be worried about the relentless stabbings they would inflict. Instead my body was in harmony, each change benefitting the way my body was transforming.

It is an odd sensation to feel euphoria from the growing of fur in places you had previously endured painful hair removal procedures on. It’s hard not to feel pangs of loss at the years I spent moving my body towards a direction that ultimately wasn’t for me. Pangs of jealousy at the people who have started their journeys before me. Pangs of resentment towards myself at not realizing what I needed to do, *what I could have done,* sooner. But I am on this journey now and more and more the only feeling filling my heart was *pride.* I look in the mirror and I'm finally starting to see *me.*

----------------------------------------------------

I had been spending the first transformative week in my own home, journaling my changes like some amateur documentarian. But, I was beginning to run low on the essentials. Fresh greens and produce had begun to be the only things I could reliably eat, and unfortunately, those are products you must purchase with regularity. With horror, I knew what I had to do: Make a trip to the grocery.

While I felt happiness and pride at my current state, one thought clouded the back of my mind: You're not there *yet.* You don't *pass.* That concept can be toxic, and it has led to many persons to focus on their own appearances to an unhealthy degree. But it is predicated on one simple notion: It's not safe for me to simply *exist.* This society is one built upon conformity in all aspects. To be different is a threat. It signals to the establishment that they have not done enough to control you. To your fellow citizens, it raises feelings of contempt. *They* were following the expectations laid before them, why can't you? It is sadly easier for many to lambast and degrade another rather than to focus their energies inward to self-discovery.

And so I donned an outfit similar to the ones I wore early in my first transition. A baggy hoodie, a pair of loose jeans, and old shoes. All articles of clothing chosen for one primary purpose; to conceal as much of my body as possible. However, these clothes did not obfuscate my appearance as well as they did in the past. For starters, my tail had finally emerged from its dormancy. I had hoped I could simply squirrel it away inside my pants' leg, but that proved too uncomfortable. I simply had to let my new limb be free, even if it was a signal to those behind me that I was of a different sort than them. But, the biggest identifier of my otherness was the wide muzzle that my face had been contoured into. No matter how I wore my hood, my flat nose poked through. I relented, the rumbling in my stomach rising with every minute I fuddled with my appearance. This was simply the best I could do, the beginnings of a cow wearing clothes too big for her, with a small tail above her jeans and a pink snout leaning out from her hood.

The mUver driver gave me many side glances, before simply asking me “Is there one o' dem furry conventions in town?” I lied, to protect myself, and said “Yeah. A small one.” The answer proved enough to satiate his curiosity and the rest of the ride we both partook in an alliance of silence. He dropped me off in front of the store. 5 stars, I instinctively input, not wanting to somehow offend the man who provided me passage. I held my empty bags close and walked through the store.

“Most people are just trying to live their own lives. They won't notice you” I chanted to myself, a mantra to get me through this obstacle called shopping. I made a straight line for the produce and began to stockpile, doing the math in my head between how much I *could* buy, how much I *could* eat, and how much *would* spoil were my math wrong. While comparing between two particularly small heads of cabbage, I heard the first comments regarding my appearance.

“Mommy, what's wrong with her face?”

It alarmed me, as anyone talking about you but not to you would, but it didn't frighten me. This little girl was simply curious about the world around her. There *was* something different about my face, something she had never witnessed before. There *was* something wrong with my face, it hadn't grown to its full splendor yet. But the next thing I heard killed any confidence I had been building during this excursion.

“Don't look at him, sweety” the mother sniped as she yanked her child in the opposite direction of myself.

Him. *Him.* The pronoun I had been able to avoid being labeled was back. The anxiety built within me. Was it simply that the mother did not give herself a proper look at me, using the first pronoun that came to her? Did the clothes I wear obscure my appearance so much that I presented male? But the thought that pushed all others out, rising to the forefront of my consciousness was one I had never considered: Was being bovine a trait seen as inherently male to the greater public? It was a notion so at odds with my own perception of reality. Being a cow was the greatest expression of my femininity. How could that be seen as masculine, of all things?

I deduced I had picked up enough food for at least a few days. I headed to the registers, I needed to leave. But, of course, the bored cashiers were now replaced with ones frantic as their lines were packed with irritable customers. I searched but to no avail for the self-checkout lanes. I always avoided interaction as a standard practice, but at this moment such an exercise felt paramount to my own safety. And thus I relented, slipping myself to the back of a line.

I put my face into my phone, trying my best to ignore my material reality. To my shock I had a notification I had never seen before: “You have 1 new follower.” I had begun to post about my transition online like so many others had done, but I never imagined someone would actually be interested in *mine.* I didn't know what to do except look at the profile of this person who had taken an interest in my own. She was a stunning tiger my own age who was following all sorts of other Therians. But before I knew it, my self-induced bubble was popped by the reality around me.

“Ew what the fuck is wrong with their face?”

The first of many whispers to come. At least this time they gendered me somewhat correctly. But I wasn't prepared for the insults to come.

“Ugh, another ugly bitch thinking she's a dragon”

W-what? Why did that hurt so much? I was gendered correctly, albeit rudely… But why did not being recognized as a cow hurt so bad? Dragons are cool, so many people I look up to are dragons… Shouldn't I be honored to be considered one?

“Dude what are you talking about?” said another voice.

“That girl over there. Look at her face and she's obviously hiding horns underneath her hoodie. It's all the rage nowadays amongst people like *them.* Thinking that being a dragon will fix all their problems.”

“Whaaa?? Dude that's just crazy”

More talking behind my back that felt like daggers into my shoulders.

“Wait, she's a dragon??”

“I don't think people like that should be allowed in public”

“Yeah what happens if she just up and snaps? I've seen videos about it”

I try to ignore them. They're gendering me correctly. They don't know. But now I can feel everyone's eyes on me. I feel like I'm on a stage. Try as I might their words penetrate any barriers I try to erect. One word keeps permeating the air:

“Dragon”

“Dragon”

“Dragon”

Everything goes white. My ears are ringing. The blood rushes to my face. I can't contain it anymore. I close my eyes and shout “I'M NOT A DRAGON! I'M A COW!”

Silence except for hushed whispers and laughing. I feel a sudden drop in every aspect of myself as my adrenaline plummets. I approach a cashier who does their best to showcase their contempt for me, but I have no strength to defend against their attitude. I pay for my goods and wait outside for my mUver. One thought permeates my mind through the ride: I need to find people like me to talk to.

------------------------------------------

I reached out to the tigress who had followed me earlier. We began talking and I was just happy to have someone who understood my trials. Someone I was finding camaraderie with. After a few days of talking, she presented me with an opportunity: “Hey, so there's a Therian meetup happening in a few days. If you're able to, would you like to attend?”

How could I not?

---------------------------------

I arrived at the place. It was an average looking community center. I walked through to the lobby and with one glance the receptionist gestured me to the hallway to my left. I guess I looked the part. I had decided to forgo my previous attire of baggy clothes and wore something more true to me: A tank top emblazoned with a skull & flowers and some jean shorts.

I walked trepidatiously down the hall. I knew I would be meeting people (animals?) that were traveling the same road of self discovery and expression that I was. I would be meeting the nice tigress whom I had already talked to and formed a rapport. So why was I anxious? I guess it was because, if I alienated even these people, it meant I would truly be alone on this journey.

I found a door with the simple words “Therian Meetup” taped haphazardly to the door. If it wasn't evident by the sign, the noises inside would be a telltale indicator. I opened the door to a cacophony of sights and sounds, yet somehow all pleasing. Animals of all sorts were each having a myriad of conversations amongst themselves and others in makeshift groups.

A lamia was at the far side of the room in a wheelchair. Her scales were a shade of deep blue and shined like sapphires in the light. Her eyes were slit yellow pupils with almost pitch black sclera. “People, pleasssse sssstay on topic” she said in a distressed tone, clearly caught off guard by her own newfound speech pattern. But soon enough she was smiling, joining in with her own insights and interests with one of the ongoing discussions.

To her right was a king cobra looking man, with green hair and brilliant black scales. He was in deep conversation with a horned goat girl. She had white and black fur across the whole of her body and she already had her hooves. Her horns were like mine, visible but clearly still growing in.

On the opposite side of the room was a kind looking man with primarily dark hair, red and blond highlights, black/red striped armbands that ran up to his elbows, and many rose tattoos scattered throughout. He was holding hands with a *very* buff werewolf girl with sharp teeth and hairy forearms. She was enraptured, hanging onto his every word with vigorous nodding and smiling. They were both speaking to a towering snake woman using a walker. She had black scales and green hands, green eyes with gray sclera and rows of sharp teeth. She had a long tongue that lent her to the same speech pattern I heard previously of elongatting her S’s.

Closer to me was a slime girl and an androgynous snake, wearing glasses and using a wheelchair, engaging in banter and laughing fits. The girl had an orange amber tone to both the patches of skin still remaining on her and to her slime. She had bones floating about in her, vestiges of her previous form. She was holding her phone and, her slime unconducive to a touch screen, used a stylus to navigate. She showed the snake something else that caused them to laugh with a hissing sound. Their chuckling was punctuated with the same speech pattern of multiple S’s that I quickly learned was a telltale quirk of the snakes and lamias among the group. Their clawed hands were completely covered in shimmering purple scales that extended, in a patchwork pattern, the length of their arms.

Everyone was having a fun time. Did I really belong with such a group of eclectic happiness? But before I could give such notions a chance to take root, a white furred tigress with faded purple hair started waving to me. It was the same woman who had invited me to this group in the first place. She beckoned me to an open seat between her and… another cow?? And it was the same girl I saw eating a bowl of grass way back when! She had come along so well in her transition. She was a different kind of cow than I was, highland to my jersey. Her hair, a shade of brown with streaks of red, had grown thick over her eyes and her horns were growing magnificently.

I sat between them and the three of us just… simply talked. About memes. About life. About anything. Eventually we all drifted to other conversations to mingle in. I talked to all sorts of animals that day. It was one of the most relaxing yet exciting experiences of my life. I felt comfortable. I felt wanted. I felt like, for the first time in my life, I had found my people.

I had found friends.

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Josie's Cow HRT Journey

First|Previous|Next

This was the longest one yet! I never thought that this AnimalHRT thing would connect me with so many wonderful people! Thank you to everyone who has become a part of my life's journey, both in this story and irl.

In no particular order, the people appearing in this story are:

@ariathelamia

@home-sweet-hive

@queenofwerewolves

@starwaycereal

@kontonord

@tigergirltail

@pennymations

@robins-warudo

@sandyca5tle

@thecrystalmountainsystem

[glassessence]

(ΦωΦ) PGR requests! PGR requests! Can I please have some cute dating headcanons with Lee? Or even like, just a cute and soft oneshot with Lee?

It's completely 100% up to you what scenario they're in if you go with the oneshot~. (*´∀｀*)

Hello! I'm alive (and back). Life has been insane and no, it's not under control but I'm back nonetheless (to fulfil ancient fic requests that people have probably forgotten about and no longer care for but no matter; we persevere.)

I'm an angst writer through and through, but I tried my best to do cute and soft. I'm sorry if it's not what you were looking for, but I hope you can derive some enjoyment from it regardless.

Also, I really am sorry that it's literally a hundred years too late. I just suck LOL

a moment of peace   |   lee 

"One day the war will end. I want people to remember that there was more."

In the wake of a catastrophic injury, Lee helps the Commandant remember what they're fighting for: a life, a dream. A hope for the future that once was.

You grunted with effort, levering yourself awkwardly from the comforts of your bed. It had been six weeks since the accident. Lucia and Liv continued to refer to it as ‘The Incident’ and adamantly dodged questions from other teams. Anyone talking to them would think you’d died. In fact, you were pretty sure Kamui thought you had.

Three weeks ago, it’d been amusing. You’d even encouraged it. But now, as the second month of your handicap loomed on the horizon, all you felt was angry. You were sick of being sick, tired of being tired. Those who had seen the planet, who’d borne witness to the ruinous beauty of a broken earth, could never be contented to stay. And while you were idling away in the sterile comforts of Babylonia, the Punishing advanced below. 

Frustrated, you shifted in the wheelchair, punching the cushion behind you into submission. The contraption was uncomfortable, no matter how many curses or how much violence you inflicted upon it. Liv liked to say that it was as stubborn as you, but even her gentility couldn’t ease your latest black mood. It was hard to sit still while your comrades fought and bled; hard to watch progress find Constructs in leaps and bounds while it found you in stumbling steps. There was no doubt that you were recovering, but it was slow. Every day a step farther. Every night a little easier. Now, more than ever, you were reminded of your mortal fragility. A brave heart did not equate to a strong mind. And a strong mind did not mean a strong body. 

It’s bad, Asimov had said. A wheelchair for now and well, maybe forever. You’ll have some time. Use it to come to terms.

Somehow, perhaps through sheer stubbornness, you’d managed to avoid that dire fate. You would walk again and one day return to the maws of the Punishing. To be crunched up and spat out again? Such dark thoughts permeated your mind often. You couldn’t help it. You were as much a soldier as anyone, but these last weeks had reminded you of just how hard it was. The hurt and aches, the tears and fractures that had never been given the chance to heal. And in the dead of night, away from prying eyes, the terrible, consuming pain. It was hard to forget the wreck of your body in the aftermath: the limp dangle of your legs in Lee’s arms, the blood that poured out of you like a swollen river, bones and flesh unmade into fragments of dust and meat.

But harder still was watching your Ravens grounded and flightless, as trapped on Babylonia as you. Harder still was noting the prolonged absence of Strike Hawk and the rising tensions between Vera and Lee. Every sympathetic eye in the hallways made you sick. 

That was what had driven you to explore Babylonia. For all that it wasn’t earth, it was something. A home for some, even if it would never be for you. Sighing, you swiped away the holographic puzzle you’d been working on. These wheels aren’t going to turn themselves…

“Maybe I can threaten Asimov again,” you muttered under your breath, hands already reaching for the spokes of your wheels. “Maybe if I commit to being a nuisance…”

“If that’s your plan, you’ll have to do better than pouting over puzzles.”

Lee stepped around the corner, pristine in his palette of black and blue. Your breath caught. He was vivid against the stark corridors, a bold stroke in the emptiness, so painfully beautiful that it hurt not to stare. Every line of him was sharp and calculated, placed just so by an artist’s loving hand. But there was no talent in the world that could capture the pale fire of his eyes. Those haunting, expressive eyes that bared his soul when words could not. 

A blond brow arched. “Is there something on my face?”

“No,” you muttered grumpily, feeling your mood lift despite yourself. “Go away. I’m contemplating going legless.”

“Then you’d better get to it. Once Asimov hears, you’ll lose more than just your legs.”

You shot him an unholy glare. “Are you here for a reason?”

“Yes,” Lee said, apparently content to leave it at that. He studied your furrowed brow and the purple shadows beneath your eyes. “Have you been sleeping?”

“No. I do nothing but sit around all day. It’s terribly restful.”

“I think that’s the point.”

“No need to rub it in.”

He sighed, “Only you would miss going to war. No wonder Vera likes you.”

“She likes me the way a cat likes a rat,” you countered. “I’m only interesting until she gets hungry. Or bored.” Lee was silent, but you could hear his reproach all the same. “What? Cynicism is healthy, you know.”

“And when did you become a pessimist, Commandant?”

“Since I started throwing a tantrum,” you said primly, meeting his unflinching gaze with solemnity. As you’d hoped, Lee’s lips quirked. It was only the slightest twitch, hardly more than a trick of the light, but your heart fluttered all the same. He was perfect as a Construct, the very pinnacle of human beauty, but when he smiled — when his cheeks dimpled on the left — you could see beyond that inhuman magnificence to the soul beneath: Morian. The boy you’d never truly known, but somehow always had. 

Buoyed by your success, you added, “Though I prefer the term venting.”

Lee was unconvinced. “You mean being unreasonable?”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

A soft exhale stirred the air above your head. You imagined the phantom brush of it against your skin. “You’re impossible,” Lee said, moving behind you to grab the handles of your wheelchair. “Watch your hands.” 

Without another word, he slid you forward, gliding through halls of recreational rooms. You craned your neck to peer into one. Swaths of blue light danced on the walls, pierced irregularly by spears of gold and white. Somewhere in the distance, close enough to be a dream, rumbled the soft, lonely call of whale song. 

Aching, you looked away. Babylonia may pretend at heaven, but there was some things that could never be captured. The thunder of waves breaking against your feet. The tug of wind against the anchors of your being. And the clouds, tender and bruised in a sky that stretched forever.

Still, you’d seen more in the past month than you had in all your years of service. Human kindnesses and human virtues; small hopes and big dreams. Love, that singular bastion of hope at the end of the world, gathered so strongly in a single place that you could feel it in the air. Against all odds, humanity had taken this empty husk and given it a soul, one filled with the very best of man. Was it the body or the soul that made a home? Every day you spent here had watered the seeds of doubt: that life could go on, and neither humans nor the Earth truly needed each other. So then what were you fighting for?

Perhaps, you thought as Lee wheeled you around an unfamiliar corner, it’s time to let go.

A frosted glass door appeared before you. Beyond lay a blurry landscape of greens and browns, like those abstract paintings Ayla had once shown you. Babylonia had gardens of course, but they were mostly fake — structures of steel and plastic that imitated life. Waging war left little time for tending plants. It was sensible, economical even, but part of you had always mourned the loss. 

But now... Your breaths were short as Lee swiped his access card.

The red eye blinked blue.

Bright notes of birdsong greeted you, carried on the wings of a warm summer wind. Jasmine and lavender perfumed the air. Above you was the percussive rustle of leaves, thin branches dancing in their places; beneath, vibrant and alive, was a verdant green sea, stretching as far as the eye could see. Pathways meandered into the sunscape like great snakes, arching gracefully through copses of bushes laden with berries like glistening jewels. Trees towered overhead. You recognised the statuesque trunks of oaks and redwood, but also the elegant silhouettes of aspens and birch, and far in the distance, the bowed boughs of weeping willow. “This is…”

Lee wheeled you forward. The door clicked shut, locking you in, away from the aseptic and cold, away from the hungry maw of space into a remembered world. He was quiet as gravel crunched underfoot. For a while, there was only the sound of wonder. Your silent breaths and roaming eyes. The thundering beat of your heart and the awakening song in your soul. Then came the comfort of companionship. His staccato steps and your legato tread. The murmur of young leaves. Birds, singing unseen in notes that dipped and weaved.

You basked in the sensations. Never had you experienced anything like this. Not even on Earth — a tranquility so complete it seemed a dream. Gravel gave way to the hush of soil. Somewhere in the distance, you heard the gurgle of water, falling and falling, splashing into a pool that would not dry. Sunlight kissed your skin and you were surprised at the sting. Ultraviolet light, you realised with a jolt. How much energy does that cost?

“What is this?” you asked quietly, tilting your head to find Lee looking at you. There was an unreadable expression in his eyes. “Is this… is this real?”

For a moment, he said nothing, his lambent gaze full of feelings you couldn’t follow. You watched him as you always did. You had always been able to parse him, to lean on a connection you shared not even with Liv or Lucia, but he had retreated from you. What was it about this garden that pained him so?

“Lee?”

You reached out, fingers soft against his mechanical palm. Though he didn’t look at you, his fingers found their way into the gaps between your own. Hands braided, threaded together as if it was always meant to be. He had never touched you so intimately before, but it didn’t feel strange.

“It’s real,” he said at last, blue eyes fixed on the spread of green before you. “All of this is real. In a few months, it’ll finally be ready.”

You gave his hand a squeeze. “Ready for what?”

His eyes cleared like the sky after rain. In them, you recognised what you’d always known: love. So much love carried by those tired blue eyes. Wherever he had gone, Lee had come back, and he’d come bearing a hidden part of his soul, ready to be shared with you at last. “For humans,” he said. “For the children who have never known this.” He gestured around, encompassing the world with a wave of his hand. “This will remind them. Connect them with their history. They should feel things, while they still can.”

His hands closed around yours. The tips of his fingers dug into your skin, but you didn’t move. His pain was your own; you would bear it with pride.

“How long has this been happening?” you asked. “How long... I mean, how did you even grow these trees?”

“I brought seeds from Earth. Whenever we were sent on a mission, I’d retrieve some. It took years, and it was started way before me, but Hassan wanted—”

“Yeah,” you said gently, turning from him to face the garden once more. “Something for us to leave behind.”

Lee said nothing, but you could feel his conviction in the press of his palm against yours. “I believe in us. In you. One day the war will end. When that time comes, a decade or a thousand years from now, I want people to remember that there was more. That living once meant tranquility and beauty, not just blood. Not just violence.”

You nodded. His words struck a chord within you, his ideas a skeletal echo of your own secret thoughts. Alone in the dark, you had wondered of your legacy. When the fight was won and fabled peace found at last, what would the people think? Would you be a hero who reclaimed the Earth or a villain who had destroyed the very thing it sought to possess? 

“Not just violence,” you echoed. Sometimes it feels like that’s all we are.

Lee knelt by your side. His eyes met your own. “Commandant, I—” 

Something wet plinked against your forehead. You glanced up. The light receded with alarming speed, leaving a trail of pregnant clouds in its wake. Wind whipped through the branches, threatening to rip the very leaves from their homes. Birds scattered to unseen havens. Within moments, the garden was a roiling landscape of adverse weather. Rain poured down in an endless torrent, stirred by vicious gales to tempestuous rage. 

“What’s happening?” You had to yell to be heard above the howling storm. Lee had risen and was moving for the handles of your wheelchair.

“It’s the weather program!” he explained. “It’s supposed to emulate real-world meteorological conditions. Probably needs a little work!” 

You laughed, a full-bellied thing—the first in a long, long time. “You think?”

“I told them to keep it on spring. This… isn’t quite what I had in mind.” Your wheels churned in the soil that had become mud. Lee grunted behind you, but the chair stubbornly refused to move. With a huff of frustration, he gave up and circled around to face you. “Let’s get out of here.”

Leaning in, he dipped one arm beneath your legs and wrapped the other around your back. Your cheeks warmed despite the lashing wind. “Wait, what—”

“Hold on, Commandant.” His breath was warm, his lips so close that they brushed against the shell of your ear. Lee lifted you from the chair like a treasure. You could feel the steady beat of his heart as he cradled you against his chest. Somehow, your arms had found their way around his neck. Water plastered his hair to his forehead and dripped into his eyes, but he didn’t let go. His eyes, when they met yours, were as clear as a summer sky. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

“I will be,” he said grumpily. “Once we get out of this tempest.”

You chuckled; something about his aggrieved tone was just so Lee that you couldn’t help it. “I like this!” you said above the storm. The rising wind and rain, the biting cold against the warm press of Lee, the hint of him in every blade of grass and velvet petal—you loved all of it. This place was a wild heart in the carefully planned rhythm of Babylonia. A sliver of the Earth captured in a truer way than you had ever known possible. “I love this!”

You whooped like a child, laughing as you opened your mouth to the taste of fresh water on your tongue. Your joy was infectious and soon Lee was laughing too, his soft giggles calling to more of your own. With water sluicing down your faces, with wind-chilled skin and soft-centred hearts, Lee carried you across the mud and slick, his steps confident and sure. You held on as tightly as you could, your fingers making divots into the smooth skin of his neck, his arms. There was a feeling between you with no name. An understanding so deep that it needed no voice. 

You gazed out at the wonder before you. It truly was a miracle. Real trees and real grass. Real flowers that would wither and die and live again. Life and hope, you thought as the doors hissed open. A moment of peace.

They slid shut, sealing the wild beauty of the garden from you once more. You could still feel the rain slicking your skin, running down your face to pool like crystals on the pristine ground.  You looked up at Lee with liquid eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked breathlessly. “Why did you labour alone?”

“Because,” he said. “It’s a gift.”

A gift. But you knew Lee, knew him like you knew your own soul, and you heard all the things he did not say. It was a gift, but it was also a dream. A promise, and a hope. It was all the things that existed in the quiet spaces between heartbeats, unseen and unheard, but known all the same.

And shared, sometimes, in the tender feelings between two soldiers wondering, and silently wishing for more.

“Come on,” Lee said after a moment. “You’ll catch a cold. I’ll come back for the chair later.”

You smiled as his footsteps rang out in the empty corridor. Swaying in his arms with the smell of petrichor still in your veins, you felt something ignite in your chest. It was small and fragile, easily buried amid the chaos of war, but you knew where to find it again. Tucked away behind a frosted glass door, there was a piece of Lee that would always be ready to remind you of what you were fighting for.

Not just violence.

For life. And for hope.

—

“Thanks for that. I owe you one.”

Murray watched happily as Morian cradled his Commandant close. He’d asked the technician to cut the audio, but there was no mistaking the depth of feeling between them. His brother was far too awkward for any declarations of love, but he hoped he’d at least given him a chance, an opportunity to express those feelings he so obviously harboured for his leader. Knowing Morian though, he’d probably squandered it, but well, a man could dream. 

The tech shot Murray a disgruntled glare. “Anything else? I have better things to do than meddle in Construct affairs.”

He sighed in mock sympathy. “More’s the pity. I love meddling in people’s lives.”

“This is why nobody likes you, Murray. Lee’s going to scold me enough as it is.” 

“I had enough of that as a kid. I’ve done my time.” With a casual wave of his hand, he left the scowling technician to his muttered insults and his bribe. Murray walked down the corridors feeling lighter than he had in weeks. Morian—Lee now—had sacrificed his life for Murray. Though he couldn’t quite do the same, he wasn’t helpless. He wasn’t the weak, younger brother that needed protecting anymore. 

It’s my turn now, brother. I may not be able to return your heart, but I hope I can give it back to you all the same.

[karlachismylife]

People Are Strange

Yup, a surprise drop from me instead of any of the things I promised. Honestly, I just fell into a weird state today and very much was missing the state and things I'm describing here, so I just wrote some extremely self-indulgent blatant self-insert thing I doubt anyone will enjoy. Yup, everything here, except the surprise guest part, is how I sometimes spend time, and the paintings are actually my real paintings too. Welcome to the mind of Juju, I guess, lol.

So yeah, sorry, I'm hoping this will shake me out of today's stupor and let me do the things I actually should. And maybe someone will like it, I dunno.

CW: afab!reader, smoking (a lot of it), alcohol mentioned, clearly unhealthy behavior and habits, altered state of mind, unsafe behavior (please don't let strangers into your home at night). Reader is a painting hippie-adjacent weirdo (hello). Basically no plot. Probably OOC Ghost. Or not. He's also a weirdo, you know.

(Title from a song by The Doors, but it's this track by Ren I've been listening to this whole time, recommended to listen while reading)

There was a certain irony in the fact that it was the evening you spent blasting The Doors in your lonely apartment that your door got knocked on.

You weren't expecting anyone, self-inflicted isolation has already spiraled to the point where everyone knew to leave you be until another episode passes. All the friends that tried to get ahold of you, were left with unread messages, unanswered calls and your neighbours' reassurance that you were still live and going out to buy groceries - stacks of cigarette packs, the same brand of beer and random assortment of both proper food and unhealthy snacks.

You were fine. You just needed a pause, a break to get recharged in that suspended state outside normal world. Forget about the clocks and proper routine, submerge yourself into nowhere and nowhen, take time to allow yourself some doubt whether or not you even existed.

And paint. You also wanted to paint.

Waking up late past noon, spending time just laying on the parquet board of your floor, eating leftovers and chasing yourself into that limbo by the time darkness fell over the city, you disappeared from here and now every night for already two weeks. World stopped being real, cigarette smoke filled the room in an infinite chain of drags, coiling in a prophetic dance under your slightly yellowish lamps, music warped your sense of space, until you finally dissosiated with that excited tingling in the tips of your fingers holding a brush in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Sounds and objects turned unrecognizable, carrying you through the ever-new and exciting inside-out of the universe.

So it took you some time to finally gather that it was knocking on your door that you heard - you were so far away from Earth, mix of reds, oranges and pinks gliding over your wet canvas, that you forgot even to get scared by someone knocking, quite insistently, into your apartment at one past midnight.

Not that you even remotely knew what time it was.

Still delayed in your reactions, you finally put the butt of your snuffed out cigarette into the overflowing ashtray - the mountain of ash with butts sticking out of it reminded you of that little chemistry trick with ammonium dichromate, and then got up. Once you opened the door of your bedroom, you almost sobered up from your hazed state, much cooler and clearer air of the rest of the apartment hitting your cheeks and exposed shoulders - you didn't even realize how much your train smoking fogged the room and dimmed the light there. The lack sounds in lifeless, yet still lit with all the lamps, rooms, also made you feel like the world got muffled. Must've been all the music you've been listening to for hours.

Or maybe you were still somewhere partially outside your body, far, far away from that two-bedroom apartment with windows looking outside at their yellowish twins littering unevenly neighborly buildings.

Someone knocked again, finally startling you, and you padded barefoot to the door, unlocking it without peeking outside - you forgot.

You didn't know that large man standing outside your apartment, dressed in all black, matching up to the surgical mask on his face. You moved here a few months ago and were going out at normal hours before you had your little episode, and you have never seen him before. What could he even want?

A realisation dawned on you as he looked you over with a visible disappointment in his piercing eyes - was it your sirwal pants, your paint-stained skin exposed by a Ganesha tanktop, all the bracelets or the paint brush you wer still clutching in your hand, you weren't sure, but he looked like the kind of man to grunt "damn hippies" into your back with all the disdain he could find in himself. So the logical conclusion came quickly, despite your brain being slow and foggy, still stuck at the canvas you were engrossed in to the point of using your fingers to paint too.

"Music, yeah?"

He blinked at you, clearly cut off in the middle of his sentence - fuck, you didn't even register his voice, must've been on the wavelength you've already got numb to. But you still tried.

"Sorry, I didn't... my music's too loud? I can turn it down, sorry, I didn't realize-"

"No. I knocked not because of the music." You blinked now, too, the stinging in your eyes hinting that you haven't done that for some time. "I'm from the apartment across... you're new here?"

"Couple... three months, I think. Sorry, I've never seen you, is that Billy's apartment?" Maybe it wasn't. You were pretty sure it was, though, you met Billy once or twice, busy lad, but a nice one. His hoodie was the colour of beans and he looked much friendlier than the guy towering over you in front of your door.

"Aye, bloke's my landlord. Listen, love, I only knocked 'cause ya're the only one not asleep on the floor yet. Can I come in? Got locked out, just came back from work and bloody lock got jammed. Can't call anyone this late." He sighed again and you blinked very forcefully this time, raising your eyebrows to clear your vision and get another, real good look at the man.

He looked tired.

Somehow the more you looked at him, the softer his feautures got - all the hostility now revealing itself to be just plain human irritability and grumpiness from exhaustion. Deep shadows under his eyes - although there was just pure black smidged under his left one, so maybe he actually wasn't as sleep-deprived as he seemed. His posture was off, slouched shoulder that did nothing to make him look less hulking, weight shifted onto one foot to support a duffelbag on one shoulder. Nice boots, though, and keys with the familiar key to common door - so he actually did live here.

"You wanna sleep over?" Your disorganised self tried to do several things at once - ask a question like a normal person would and open the door to invite in a stranger like no normal person would - and almost got stuck in the middle, so you slurred your words and stopped before your door was open enough to let the broad guest inside.

To his credit, he only leaned forward, as if for a step, and then paused, blond eyebrows furrowing with suspicion.

"Ya drunk? High?" Watching him take a step back, you tried to think about his question. Were you? Probably not.

"No, jus' tired." That was easier to explain than the fact that you felt your head fill with fuzzy black dots and little spiky wheels running over the inside surface of your skull. "Come in. I have a spare bedroom."

He came in. Judging by the sound it hit your floor with, his bag was loaded - if you could spare a minute to think properly, you would realize it shouldn't be a surprise if he left for more than three months to avoid meeting you. Wiping your suddenly sweaty and greasy forehead, you tried remembering what is usually done when you have guest's over.

"So... you can leave shoes here... toilet's down this hall, the furthest door, bathroom's close-"

"Name's Simon."

For whatever reason, it was his name, thrown out there right when your playlist paused between Crystal Ship and Spanish Caravan, that made you finally snap back into your body. You felt the itch in your fingers where your brush handle dug into the skin, smelled the smokey aftertaste in the air left by you opening the door and letting that one and a half packs worth of smoke into the apartment, and felt cold in your bare arms. Even felt the hairs on your forearms rise protectively.

"Right. Nice to meet you, Simon. Sorry, I'm a little bit... distracted." Scratching your eyebrow, you named yourself and repeated the instructions about the shoes and hands washing - surprisingly, Simon did just as you said. Seeing him in the bathroom with half of the tiles decorated by those special markers was funny.

Too much glitter and unicorns for such brute of a man.

"So, uh, I wasn't actually going to sleep yet... I can turn off the music so you can rest... want some tea?"

Simon didn't answer straight away, hesitating between two towels, until you finally rushed to help him and shoved the one with Pinky Pie in his wet hands.

"Wouldn't mind a cuppa, love. And don't worry 'bout the music. 'M not gonna sleep either, jus' need a place to stay until I can call 'bout the damn lock. Jus' a few hours and I'm gone."

A few hours was exactly how much you had left in you, before you would sleepily fry your ritualistic veggies for a 6 am supper and collapse on the bed next to a new painting. Somewhat relieved that you didn't have to interrupt your hypnotizing background noise - even though the man himself was quite an interruption - you hummed and padded to the kitchen, finally placing the brush down on the sink edge to keep paint from staining your counter and putting the kettle on.

As you turned, another cigarette between your fingers by inertia, you finally got actually scared - dropped your lighter and everything, big hand reaching out to catch it inches above the floor with inhumane reflex.

"Oh fuck! Shit, sorry, you scared me, you- you're so quiet... thanks." With a trembling hand, you put your cigarette back into your mouth and let Simon light it for you. If your eyes weren't so full of pink from the painting you were doing, you would say his ears reddened a bit.

"Sorry. Jus' a habit," he offered with an awkward nape rub and checked the steadiness of your kitchen table before leaning his hip against it. Behind your back kettle finally started gurgling and bubbling. "Not gonna open a window?"

"Oh, you don't like the smoke? Sorry, I, uhm... well, shit, I kinda got whole apartment fumed..." His eyes smiled - and he chuckled. It was the friendliest sound he made so far, and you liked it. "What? I didn't expect anyone! I just don't wanna get distracted from what I'm doing every time I need a smoke."

"And I take it, you need it a lot, huh?" He chuckled again, and you rolled your eyes at him, turning away for a moment to shake the ash off into the sink. You weren't expecting him to say much more, but he suddenly asked: "Can I 'ave one, too? I mean, I've got mine. Jus' asking if you mind."

Having someone else be okay with smoking inside was nice. Granted, he was probably just using an opportunity since it wasn't his apartment, but your mind flashed with the times you had friend gatherings like that - gutar strings plucked for everyone sitting in a circle, bottles scattered conviniently and that same overflowing ashtray somewhere in the middle, dangerously close to the giant bowl of freshly fried chips.

"Yeah, sure, mate, just... let's go to my room first, I have my ashtray there. Lemme make the tea and I'll show you..."

"Not too hard of a guess which way to go, lass, but sure." Simon was a tease, you finally connected. Taking the piss, a joker. Sarcastic, just like someone you knew.

You missed them less and more now that he was here, disrupting your isolation. Got you completely sobered up by the time you sipped the tea to make sure it won't spill over the rim of the mug, but the thing was, you didn't mind. You passed Simon his mug, the one with "seven days without a pun makes one weak" - suited him well, you thought, and he clearly loved it judging by his chuckle - and grabbed your brush, clutching your cig in your teeth to make way to the bedroom.

Simon blinked as if all the colour and clutter hurt his eyes, when he entered, and then, after a quick scan of the room, locked in on your canvas.

"A real artist, huh?" His tone was surprisingly not mocking - not that you expected to be taken seriously by him. You weren't taken seriously even by yourself.

"No, not really. Just get in the mood sometimes." You showed him the ashtray buried under the hours of trash and took a fresh drag, desperately trying to get back into said mood.

Simon made it hard, though.

"Right. Quite the gallery for "not really" an artist," he circled the room, generally pointing out all the other canvases. Or maybe all the colourful junk in general. "Making a series or somthin'?"

You glanced at the wall he nodded at. Two more pieces with hands imagery. He was right.

"A triptych. Didn't take you for an art person." He cuckled again, as if you made a funny joke, and shook his buzzed head, tapping his cigarette over the mountain Ash.

"'M not. But ya ain't making it hard to guess." While he wandered around your cluttered room, you sat back down at the easel and looked at the rough silouettes of holding hands in the top third of the canvas, trying to rememeber what feeling was strangling your mind to the point of pleasant asphyxia while you were painting them. "And this one?"

Unhappy girl started playing and you caught the irony. A lot of irony tonight, too much for normal world - that's why you felt so safe: you were still not in the real human world where bad things happened to reckless people.

"That's a self-portrait." You grinned as Simon made a point out of looking between you and th big canvas.

"Sorry if that's offensive, but that don't look like ya, love."

"That's cuz it's a self-portrait of how I'm often feeling. Maybe I am a lil' bit of an artist, see, metaphors and shit."

He laughed. You liked that a lot, too. Something started coating your brain in a muffling blanket, and you left your tea mug and cig, picking up the brush again.

"Hands a metaphor too, then?" He finally sat down, on your bed, right where he could watch you paint. You've never been watched, especially while painting, baring your incompetence, chaotic thought flow and emotions.

Your self-portrait was frozen in a constant agony of screaming, overflowing with all feelings at once. If you didn't dissosiate while painting, you would scream in the process too.

"Yeah, hands are a metaphor too," your voice didn't sound right. For some reason, you imagined what you looked like from Simon's point of view from behind.

Like that Johannes Gumpp's painting of himself painting himself from a mirror reflection.

"Of what? World peace?" Simon grunted somewhere behind you, shifting and rustling with something on your bed. Cleared some space for himself among the herd of your stuffed animals? Propped himself on your pillow, still in his street clothes and with a cigarette clutched in a big ungloved hand?

A diturbing feeling of a French stop motion short film enveloped you starting from your forehead, artistic unease of standing on the border of something normal people can't even comprehend. You watched your hand move across the canvas, adding colour intuitively, making judgements on light and shadow intuitively, no training and theory behind your hypnotized movements.

"No... it's a story about coming out of a dark place. I called the triptych "Exit"," you paused, words slurring again as your thoughts slowly choked in the grip of the process and the thrill of having someone witness the birth of your last piece.

Someone who just shifted you back into the right headspace despite being the last person you could imagine doing it.

"It's three steps I'm taking to get out of a bad place in my head. The first piece is To Be." Simon grunted, leaning slightly to the side to glance at the darkest of the paintings. "Cuz that's enough for a start, you know? Just being."

Dipping your brush in bright yellow, you left a stain on the dry skin of one of the hands you were painting. Simon didn't say a word, but you felt that he listened.

"The second one's To Create. Because creating is the opposite of destruction."

There was another pause in the playlist and you lowered your brush, not noticing that the yellow somehow found its way onto your own hand - and now pants too.

Silence lasted probably a million years back at the Earth while you just sat there with your guest. Then the bed creaked, a lighter clicked and a blow of smoke flew over your shoulder, looming form casting a shadow over your bright colours - not a single black spot on this last, third piece.

"And this one?" Simon's voice rumbled right above your ear. You took the cigarette from his hand, slowly, underwater movements and phantom brush of dry lips with an ugly scar on your throbbing in an airless bedroom temple.

"And this one is..." you blinked, a clear thought that he knows hitting the roof of your skull like a suddenly thrown tennis ball. "This one is To Love."

You were still only on your second step, deep into creation. But maybe Simon knocked on your door tonigt to remind you you'll have to move onto the third one soon.

[yanderes-galore]

If it's okay can I request Transformers Prime Megatron with your prompts 2, 11, and 44 with a human reader?

Of course! @okchijt and I came up with the plot for this one so hopefully it came out great after I fleshed things out :) This takes place a little after you're first abducted by Megatron.

Yandere! TFP! Megatron Prompts 2, 11, 44

"It's an honor for someone such as me to take you in and love you!"

"I'd crush their heart in front of you if it meant you'd only love me!"

"Your tongue is so sharp... wouldn't it be a shame if I had to silence it?"

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Cybertronian/Human pairing, Obsession, Torture mentioned, Threats, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Slight OOC Megatron, Forced relationship.

The fact humans were capable of such resolve both intrigued yet infuriated Megatron. How long had it been for you? Weeks? Months? It didn't really matter to him.

All he knows is for such a small thing you're resilient. Starscream has been sent to your cell on The Nemesis for a long time now. Despite the pain inflicted on your fleshy body, you refuse to talk or give up any info on the Autobots.

Starscream yet again kept disappointing Megatron. To think he's unable to make such a human talk is inconceivable. You're human, you should be cracking by now.

It's almost impressive really, even if it's pointless. Compared to most humans you never know when to quit. It's a trait that shows loyalty... to the wrong cause.

Despite your annoying stubborn behavior, Megatron found himself intrigued by you. Your traits frustrate him yet draw him in. He wants to know what makes you tick.

He oversees your interrogations, watching as you're either shocked or yelled at. Even through extreme psychological stress and threats you refuse to betray Prime. Megatron is almost jealous at such loyalty.

If only some of the Decepticons besides Soundwave and Shockwave show such loyalty.

Such intrigue prompts the Decepticon to remove Starscream from the job of interrogation. No, this was now between you and him. Your resistance is a trait Megatron wants to utilize... perhaps he can make a deal with you.

Megatron notices the confusion in your gaze when he steps in. A grin is on his face as you show slight weakness for just a moment. You quickly swap to a more defiant gaze right as Megatron locks the cell behind him.

"So you're the human that's been giving Starscream hell? I should thank you for that, actually. However, you aren't getting away with that when it comes to me." Megatron begins, observing your reactions carefully through his optics.

"We'll see about that..." You grumble just enough for the Decepticon to hear.

"Yes, we'll see..." Megatron begins. "We'll see what happens to your friends and family when you don't give up the Autobots. Even if you don't give the answer now... we'll find them. I don't mind extinguishing their spark in front of you."

Megatron sees fear flicker in your eyes at the threat but you still don't relent. Starscream, as much as he hates to see it, was right. In a sense....

"Think about this instead, for being a human you could make a great Decepticon."

He sees your face contort into disgust.

"I'm not telling you anything! Just as I have multiple times before! Let me go... kill me... it doesn't matter just as you said. I'll never tell you about the Autobots. They're my family, they care for me and they'll find me!"

Megatron felt his Energon heat at the fact you're defending the Autobots. The Autobots are scum... the fact you still stick by them on his turf sets him off. He was even starting to consider sparing you as a Decepticon if you've survived months of torment!

You needed to crack... now.

"I'd crush their heart in front of you if it meant you'd only love me!" The Decepticon roars, revealing a key factor of his intentions.

After the outburst there's silence. You stare wide-eyed at Megatron as he glares down at you. Megatron does realize what he said and takes a moment to ponder. It's a bit degrading to himself to stoop down to liking a human this much but... you're an exception. Perhaps while watching you and growing annoyed he was just in denial about such a fact.

Either way it appears he can use this as leverage.

You still appear to be processing the accidental confession. It's a surprise to him too. The silence is deafening as you try to process the disturbing confession given by your captor.

"Love me...?" You say in nearly a whisper. "How could a monster such as you love me? Didn't you say you hated humans?"

Megatron tries to search for an answer, momentarily distracted by his own confession and your questions. You're pushing him in a corner. It's surprising how fast you swap the power in your favor even if it's for a moment.

You really are something special.

"Go on, answer!" You growl. "If you said you hate my kind, what makes you think a confession such as that will make me love you?"

Megatron is silent, watching you bark at him like an angry dog. You are quite brave yet stupid to fight someone like him. It's what he likes about you... yet it stings slightly.

His silence prompts you to continue.

"The likelihood of me loving you, if that is truly what you want, is about as likely as you beating the Autobots!"

Megatron takes note of the grin on your face. You're enjoying the power trip. You haven't been on control of your situation for a long time now. You're reveling in the momentary power.

He'll put an end to that, you've asked enough questions already.

"It's an honor for someone such as me to take you in and love you!" Megatron counters. "Mocking me is a poor decision. You are not the one in power here."

He hates that you somehow have such an effect on him. He could squish you with his claws but he doesn't. No... he "cares" too much, huh?

You take notice due to being such a perceptive human.

"You have one last chance to cooperate. Things will only get worse from here if you continue." Megatron warns. He's already being too merciful with you as his. You only smile sweetly.

"You couldn't hurt me... you LOVE me, don't you-"

*SLAM*

The noise of Megatron's fist puncturing the wall rings in your ears. You have a look of fearful surprise on your face when you catch a look of Megatron's blazing red optics on you. Only now to you shut up, realizing playing with your captor really won't at all be like Starscream.

Megatron's deathly silent as he lowers himself to snatch you up in his hand. You now begin to shake, losing the confidence you once had. So much for the tough act....

It seems only now you understand the power imbalance between you two.

"Your tongue is so sharp... wouldn't it be a shame if I had to silence it?" Megatron mocks, grinning when he sees you tremble in his hand. "You need to learn your place. You're still a human after all."

For once, you're shocked into silence. You can tell by the gaze in Megatron's eyes that you've sealed your fate. He isn't going to kill you, at least you think....

He's going to put you through hell and back for trying to mess around with him. You wish you held your tongue. What were you thinking, mocking Megatron as a human?

You can only guess it'll be much worse than when you misbehaved around Starscream.

Even if he did say he "loved" you.

[thecreaturecodex]

Skelm, Soul

Image © Paizo Publishing, accessed at Archives of Nethys here

[Hey! A new monster! I am feeling a bit more rested and rejuvenated after my long hiatus. I'm still only planning on releasing one or two new monsters a week, but I feel much more motivated to write now, and think I've worked out why my block has been what it is.

The soul skelm is the last and most powerful of the skelms in PF2e's Bestiary 3, and I like that it has a similar ability to the weakest, the street skelm. I wonder if all four of them had a "X Strike" ability at some point in development. I added some more spell-like abilities to play into their "bullying the dead" flavor text.]

Skelm, Soul CR 10 LE Outsider (native) This humanoid male has translucent gray skin and a rack of antlers. His face is contorted into an expression of mock agony and terror.

Soul skelms are among the most powerful of skelm-kind, and are some sort of occult parallel to night hags. Unlike the more metaphysical connection between night hags and mortal hags, soul skelms are a further transformation, and can form from any kind of skelm. A soul skelm is one that has completely abandoned its original personality and mortality for pure hatred and ambition. Soul skelms are especially feared because their cruelty does not stop when their victims die. A soul skelm continues to bully the souls of their victims, calling them from the grave to interrogate them as to the weaknesses of their friends and loved ones, and using them to invigorate their withered flesh. Soul skelms do not have a natural lifespan; they only die through violence or misfortune, and many of their souls immediately go on to reincarnate as rakshasas, asuras or oni.

Soul skelms enjoy using the undead as tools, and often collect a region’s undead under their banner, using bribes, threats and magic if the first two fail. Soul skelms are even more isolationist and paranoid of their fellow skelms as other varieties are, and rarely associate with them except as part of a plan to get their lesser killed. Soul skelms delight in breaking apart group unity and cohesive tactics, using illusions to separate each of their victims into a solipsistic reverie before picking them off one by one. They prefer spiked chains, whips, or other ostentatious, showy weapons.

Soul Skelm CR 10 XP 9,600 LE Medium outsider (native) Init +3; Senses darkvision 60 ft., Perception +17

Defense AC 24, touch 14, flat-footed 20 (+3 Dex, +1 dodge, +10 natural) hp 126 (12d10+60) Fort +9, Ref +11, Will +13; -2 vs. emotion effects DR 10/cold iron; Immune death effects, possession

Offense Speed 30 ft. Melee +1 spiked chain +19/+14/+9 (2d4+10/19-20), gore +13 (2d6+3 plus trip) or slam +18 (1d4+6), gore +13 (2d6+6 plus trip) Special Attacks bully the departed (7/day), isolating strike Spell Like Abilities CL 10th, concentration +17 (+21 casting defensively) At will—dimension door, ghost whip, invisibility, silence (DC 19) 3/day—call spirit (DC 22), command undead (DC 19), inflict critical wounds (DC 21) 1/day—entrap spirit (DC 22), greater oeneiric horror (DC 21), mind probe (DC 21), plane shift (self only, Material and Astral Planes only)

Statistics Str 23, Dex 17, Con 20, Int 16, Wis 20, Cha 25 Base Atk +12; CMB +18 (+20 disarm, trip); CMD 32 (34 vs. disarm, trip) Feats Alertness, Combat Casting, Combat Expertise, Dodge, Exotic Weapon Proficiency (spiked chain) (B), Improved Critical (spiked chain) (B), Improved Disarm, Improved Trip Skills Bluff +17, Climb +16, Disguise +17, Intimidate +21, Knowledge (arcana, local, nobility, religion) +10, Perception +17, Sense Motive +17, Spellcraft +13, Stealth +13 SQ change shape (Medium male humanoid, alter self), conspicuous combatant, ghostly grasp, skelm traits

Ecology Environment any land or urban Organization solitary Treasure standard (+1 spiked chain, other treasure)

Special Abilities Bully the Departed (Su) As a move action, a soul skelm can call upon the souls of his victims to invigorate himself. Until the end of his next turn, he gains regeneration 15 (force, good), and deals an extra 1d6 points of damage with all his melee attacks. During this time, his melee attacks count as evil for the purposes of overcoming damage reduction and regeneration. A soul skelm can use this ability a number of times a day equal to his Charisma modifier. Conspicuous Combatant (Ex) A soul skelm gains Exotic Weapon Proficiency and Improved Critical for one exotic weapon of his choice. Ghostly Grasp (Su) A soul skelm’s natural weapons, and any manufactured weapons he wields, are treated as being ghost touch weapons for the purposes of interacting with incorporeal creatures. Isolating Strike (Su) As a standard action, a soul skelm can exert himself to make a single powerful attack. When he does, he adds an additional damage die of the same type to the attack, and the creature struck must succeed a DC 23 Will save. If they fail, they are invisible, inaudible and otherwise completely imperceptible to their allies for the next 4 rounds, and their allies are likewise invisible, inaudible and completely imperceptible to them. Regardless of whether it succeeds or fails, that creature is immune to that soul skelm’s isolating strike for the next 24 hours. The save DC is Charisma based, and this is an illusion effect. After making this attack, the street skelm is treated as being flat footed until the beginning of its next turn. Skelm Traits (Ex) All skelms gain a +4 racial bonus to Intimidate checks, but a -2 penalty to all saving throws against emotion effects.

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

hi! I'm new to the beatles lore and I've been trying to catch up on an insane level of information for weeks. it's been fun but also heartbreaking 💔💔 anyways, I wanted to ask a couple of questions if that's ok? for example, I keep seeing this narrative that john was using yoko as some sort of weapon against paul... what was john trying to achieve by that I mean where does this idea even come from? according to this, john was hurting paul on purpose while he was singing him love songs in the studio asking him to be partners again (as in songwriting creative partners) WHAT WOULD JOHN ACHIEVE DOING THAT? also it sounds very one sided like paul is the most innocent in the break up eventho he was the one who came up with a secret album and a lawsuit. I don't know what to think. before knowing them I used to think lennon was in love and on drugs so he got so annoying to the point that he broke up the band but now...

Hi there! Welcome to the fandom! don't worry about feeling overwhelmed at first there is a LOT to take in.

I want to say, I do get the feeling you are somewhat mixing things up here, though I don't particularly blame you for being confused. (if not then sorry! just want to clarify as much as I can)

Tedious as it sounds, I find keeping a timeline in my mind (ideally, accurate to the month) helpful to provide some clarity regarding the breakup era specifically, so the period of 1968-1971. John's studio taunting you're referring to would have happened between mid '68 and mid '69, but Paul worked on his solo album (what I presume you meant by "his secret album", though it wasn't all that secret – John had already released solo music of his own by that point*) in late '69 and early '70. He filed a lawsuit against the others in late '70.

*I think you're conflating the album itself with the fact that, along with the release of McCartney (said album), Paul "surprise revealed" he had quit the band to the public, which the other band members, especially John, were not impressed with.

That being said, the events of the breakup are still convoluted at best, even to "seasoned" fans, I'd say. One of my main pieces of advice I can provide as someone who's been doing this for more than 3 years is get comfortable with not knowing things and with some of the actors involved doing something fundamentally irrational sometimes. They're humans, they don't always make sense and they won't always be forthcoming about why they behaved the way they did.

Which brings me to the narratives you mention: I say this as nicely as possible, but sometimes people want to tell themselves the best story rather than the most truthful one. It's more important to some that John is taunting Paul out of some twisted form of love than why specifically.

To answer your question regarding where this particular idea comes from, I would say: Paul has indicated that he felt John replaced him with Yoko (in whatever way he meant by that – some think it's sexual, some it's about creative partnership, or simply as a best friend); John's behaviour clearly and drastically shifted for the worse in mid '68, which is around the time he got together with Yoko, left his family, and started doing heroin; footage from Get Back shows John both all over Yoko and trying to reach out to Paul periodically.

There's probably more, but I don't know if there's much point in getting into the weeds of it right now. My point is: it's not the only valid theory, IMO, and probably not the whole truth if it is true, but it's not unfounded.

I think it may be a misstep to dismiss a theory because "what would John achieve by that?" Again, people are not always acting in a way that strictly makes sense, especially not people with the issues John struggled with. Some people might say John was testing Paul, trying to make him fight for him. Some might say John had an outright sadistic streak. Others that he was too out of it to notice the pain he was inflicting on others. I think it could very easily be a mix of all three. When dealing with human emotions, I personally think it's a mistake to assume things are simple and straightforward, which is why a lot of tinhattery turns me off. It very often feels like a blanket-statement self-confirming axiom, rather than a truly thoughtful and multifaceted argument.

My most condensed version of events would be: John became incredibly difficult to work with in multiple ways (including but not limited to bringing Yoko to the studio) by mid '68; Paul, for the most part, tried to accomodate him, to diminishing returns, while having his own longterm relationship fall apart and being completely in over his head running a brandnew business; Paul deals with distress by burying himself in work, the other three do not – this leads to further conflict, along with issues over creative control; the band decide they need a new manager type to help them out with their new business and provide the guidance they haven't had since Brian died; cue John wanting Klein and only Klein and massively distrusting Paul's "nepo" choice of Eastman + apparently not trusting Paul's belief that Klein was bad news; extreme resentment over money issues which are incredibly underrated by the fandom because at their core they are boring, emotionally, ensue; John decides he's "over" the band and tells the others he's out; Paul is destroyed over this (and everything that led up to it), spends months spiraling and recording his album; wanting to get this all out of the way, Paul finally breaks down and admits he's leaving the Beatles to the world and to the band itself, even though he had asked John to stay quiet about his own quitting the band months earlier; John (understandably, IMO, though I don't blame Paul exactly – this is what I mean by not everything makes perfect sense) assumes Paul is using the band breakup for PR and gets a hell of a lot angrier than he already is about the money stuff; John undergoes primal therapy which opens up about 43273289635298 wounds; John does an interview in which he spills his guts and tears down almost everyone in his life except Yoko; meanwhile more financial issues. I cannot overstate that those matter too, tumblr is just not a place where finance peeps hang out; Paul is getting more and more fed up with all of this and he, as a last resort, files a lawsuit to no longer be legally tied to the others.

I for the most part left out George and Ringo here* and I'm writing off memory here without re-checking sources, so take what I say with a massive grain of salt. My main point is that this shit is complicated and don't let people tell you it isn't.

*I'm of the opinion that John and Paul are at the center of the breakup, but they also aren't the be-all, end-all of it. But because in the end George and Ringo fell "in line" with John and you didn't ask about them, I decided to mostly leave them out.

[hauntedwizardmoment]

okay. this is. potentially such a weird specific ask but as i am over here getting ready to tpk my party who said that. what do you think would happen if for w/e reason jace's college party like. brought jace AND porter along for a mission. no idea WHY this would happen but i'm. literally just picturing the weirdest pissing contest between peregrine and porter during fights and jace is fighting for his life because the tanks are trying to one up each other so he can't even clock that he's kind of being fought over actually.

OH MY GODDDD YEAH. god. i have so many thoughts on this bc like

peregrine and porter are both like. so insecure about their masculinity in ways that i think would clash TERRIBLY. like, if this is adjacent to blood and turpentine canon. maybe their new offensive caster (drow wizard, name currently undecided but he's ysvelde's cousin) bites it and aurora's not able to resurrect him. so they need a backup.

and invidia is like "guys we're close to elmville. i know none of you like him but we could get jace" and dagbert and ysvelde are like "it's not that we dont LIKE him its that he's just. a lot of drama. with aurora and peregrine and everything." but then invidia asks peregrine who's kind of like the unofficial party leader and he's like (convinced he and jace could have an affair bc he's unhappy in his marriage and in his mind jace has always been available to him as a backup option) "well, we need all the help we can get and he's our best option" and i think the only reason aurora would agree to this is bc she thinks whatever mission theyre on might actually kill him

anyways. jace shows up with porter, to everyone's shock, and is like "you guys remember porter? he said he was free too and i figured we could use extra muscle" and IMMEDIATELY peregrine is like "why'd you think that? dagbert and i are--" and then dagbert (only professional on the team) is like making nice with porter and theyre like bonding and peregrine is like [grits teeth] okay. okay. it's fine. it's just a week in the red wastes like old times.

and porter KNOWS about jace and peregrine so he's like playing up the fact that theyre together. like jace gets hurt by something and aurora like rolls her eyes and moves to heal him and porter's like nah don't worry i got him, and kisses jace's hand for a Lay on Hands. and peregrine is fully like [actively seething] calm down calm down calm down calm down

ofc this leads to peregrine taking stupid risks in a major battle bc he thinks he'll win jace over by showing him how he can protect him. and he gets hurt as a result. and so does porter bc now he's taking damage that was meant for peregrine. and jace has to be the one to burn his 9th level spell slot and kill whatever monster theyre fighting. and he's like "guys youre both better adventurers than this?? what the fuck was that?" and neither of them want to admit that theyre kind of in a contest for who can show off in front of him so theyre like "it's nothing, won't happen again"

but ofc it DOES happen again. and again. and aurora who has made it her mission to not interact w jace at all lest she "accidentally" let off a 7th level inflict wounds and reduce him to a pile of black ichor when they still need him is like "you need to tell your little dalliance to knock it off because if you two get my husband killed i can't be held responsible for what i do. youre not even dressed like a whore this time around, i dont know what kind of hex you cast on him but fucking stop it"

and jace would ignore this because to him thats classic aurora, pissed off at him for no reason & blaming him for shit he didn't do, until invidia is like "did you bring porter to fuck with perry on purpose because that's SO you and SO petty i love it" and jace is like "no of course not, i genuinely thought we could use another tank" and ysvelde is like "okay but like, you wanted to fuck with him a little bit, right? make him jealous?"

and jace (low int) finally gets it and is like oh my god. martial classes are all fucking IDIOTS. is that why theyve been absolutely fucking useless in every fight? i shouldve gone through with marrying you ysvelde my life would be so much easier if i'd done that. and THIS is when invidia and ysvelde spill all the drama to him about peregrine and aurora's crumbling marriage and jace comes clean about peregrine coming onto him at his own wedding. and they laugh and laugh and it's like old times for a brief moment.

and then peregrine and porter get into a physical fight bc peregrine doesnt like that porter's been very touchy-feely with jace lately and porter was like "what's it matter to you? he's mine now, not that he was ever yours" or some other creepy possessive bullshit like that. and jace has to separate them and talk both of them down (well he yells at porter and is very soft-spoken and simpering with peregrine) because they wont listen to anyone else.

[sjsmith56]

Confirmation - A Private Man, Chapter 17

Summary: After consulting with Shuri, Bucky and Tracey share some news with their family on the way to the airport. They arrive at a private resort in the Bahamas to begin their honeymoon.

Length: 4.4 K

Characters: Bucky, Tracey, Shuri, Sam, Rebecca, Janice.

Warnings: None.

Author notes: Their adventure begins.

<<Chapter 16

Bucky slept poorly that night, waking up several times certain that Tracey had left him for inflicting such rough sex on her.  Prior to that moment everything physical between them had been tender and mutually nurturing.  That she had done so much to comfort him the night before was proof that she really was much too good for him.  He idly wondered if Shuri could answer some questions.  Gently, he pulled his arm out from under Tracey's shoulders; her murmur made him hesitate for a moment before he successfully slid out from under the covers.  Reaching into his bag he put his hand in an inside pocket, pulling out the kimoyo bead bracelet he still kept, even though he hadn't worn it since leaving Wakanda.  Slipping it on his wrist he pulled on his briefs and went into the bathroom, closing the door before turning on the light.  Sitting on the toilet seat he activated the communication bead and requested a session with Shuri.  Her puzzled face appeared, looked at him, at what he presumed was a clock, then back at him.

"Sergeant Barnes?  Is everything alright?  It is 4:38 in the morning after your wedding.  You should be in bed."

He grimaced.  She should be in bed and he realized he had just awakened the Queen of Wakanda from her sleep.

"I'm sorry, please forgive me," he stammered.  "Never mind.  I'll let you go."

"No, I'm awake now and you obviously are troubled.  What has happened, Bucky?"

Her use of his nickname was meant to assure him that her usual formality with him was being put aside.  Running his free hand through his hair he looked at Shuri, trying to word what happened in a way that didn't seem lewd.

"I lost control during our ... celebration of our marriage," he said reluctantly.  "We both did, and Tracey wondered if my pheromones were strong enough to affect her given the emotional state we were in."

One of Shuri's enigmatic smiles briefly crossed her face then she looked at him.  "By loss of control, do you mean that intercourse between you became a bit energetic?"  She appeared to think for a moment.  "It's possible.  I assume this hasn't happened between you already."  He shook his head, feeling embarrassed at having to have this talk with her.  "Is there anything else that happened between you?  Your wife is a nurse, isn't she?  Her speculation about the pheromones intrigues me."

"Her IUD isn't where it's supposed to be and she thinks she may be pregnant," admitted Bucky.  "Do pregnant women give off different pheromones?"

"Absolutely," agreed Shuri.  "She was out of control as well?  To be sure I would need to take blood from both of you and check the hormone levels."  She gazed levelly at him.  "Which may not be possible since I understand you leave for your honeymoon today.  Have you confirmed the pregnancy?"

"I was going to buy one of those sensitive pregnancy kits before we left.  See if it would confirm it.  Tracey thinks she's only a few weeks along if she is and apparently an increased sex drive is possible in a newly pregnant woman due to a change in her hormones."

"I like your wife even more," smiled the young queen.  "She sees things scientifically.  Is she angry at you for what happened?"

"No, she was quite the opposite, very comforting, and trying to understand what may have happened.  She was as out of control as I was."  He looked away for a moment.  "We bit each other.  Her bites on me are almost faded.  The ones I gave to her ... I hurt her, Shuri.  I hurt my wife, the woman I love."

"It sounds like she loves you very much as well," said Shuri, gently.  "I doubt very much she sees you in a different light.  If she is pregnant, it is possible her pheromones and yours created a moment of dimorphous expression."  Bucky looked at her with skepticism. "It is feeling a strong emotion but reacting with an opposite action.  Biting is an aggressive expression of emotion in animals towards their mates, and humans are still animals.  The feelings generated in that moment were so strong your bodies didn't know what to do, so they reacted in a primal fashion.  Tell me, in the moment, did they feel painful or pleasurable?"

"I can't speak for her but mine didn't hurt, so I guess they were pleasurable," replied Bucky.  "I just can't hurt her like that again." 

They were both quiet for a moment then Bucky heard a brief knock on the door before it opened, revealing Tracey, wearing a hotel robe.  She saw who he was talking to and kneeled beside him, placing her hand on his thigh, understanding immediately what he was doing.

"I'm sorry, I had to talk to someone about it," he said to his wife.  "Shuri has an explanation."

Tracey looked to the image of the young queen who repeated her theory.  Bucky felt such love and pride for Tracey as he watched her listen carefully, then asking her own questions in a straightforward way.  The two women conversed as equals, both of them women of science.  Not once did Tracey's hand stray from its position on his thigh, nor did she get emotional. 

"So it's probable that my pregnancy hormones might have triggered Bucky's arousal hormones and we both just lost ourselves in the moment," she restated, using less scientific terms for his sake.  "I suppose we should get the pregnancy test done as soon as possible so that you can do some research of your own."

"If you wouldn't mind," replied Shuri.  "Much of what was done to Sergeant Barnes affected him genetically as well.  It's possible your child may inherit many, if not all, of his abilities.  I would hesitate to make it known outside of your close circle of friends and associates that you are pregnant.  There are those who might covet such a child for its physical potential alone."

The couple looked intently at each other then Tracey got a determined look on her face.  "They would have to fight me to get to him or her.  I think my body might be changing as well.  The bites are fading, Bucky." 

She faced him and opened her robe so he could see for himself, that the spots where his bite had broken the skin showed healing in progress.  He looked in disbelief from Tracey to Shuri.

"Is that possible?  Can being pregnant with my child give her some of my abilities?"

Shuri was definitely interested now.  "Anything is possible, Sergeant Barnes.  Whether it is a permanent condition or temporary to help her carry this baby to term is something I would need my lab to confirm.  Tell me, Mrs. Barnes, once you return from your honeymoon would you consent to coming to Wakanda so we could do a full examination of you?  You are unique, although I suppose John Walker's wife might experience the same thing if she becomes pregnant."

"Well, we do want answers and Bucky trusts you, so I trust you as well," replied Tracey.  "There has to be a 24-hour pharmacy or convenience store near here that has what we need.  Do you want a sample of my urine?  I can give you that at least if you want to start studying me."

"You are a true scientist, Mrs. Barnes," said Shuri, enthusiastically.  She looked to the side as if acknowledging the arrival of someone.  "If you can get that test done and put the rest of your urine in a container I can send someone to get it.  You're right about beginning this study as soon as possible.  I'll try to arrange for a blood draw as well.  We can do it before you leave."  She looked at the couple with assurance.  "Do not judge yourselves for what happened.  It was a moment of intense emotional stimulation, nothing more.  You are aware of it now and I believe you will be in control of yourselves in the future.  Thank you, Sergeant Barnes, for trusting me with this."

"I trust you as much as I trust Tracey," he said, looking at his wife with softness.  "I'll try to get that pregnancy test.  Sam is picking us up at noon, so if you want to come earlier just contact me on the bracelet."

The image disappeared and Bucky stood up, pulling Tracey into his embrace.  They went out to the bedroom area of the bridal suite and Tracey looked up nearby stores on her phone, while Bucky got dressed, finding one that was open 24 hours.  She looked up the brands of pregnancy tests, writing it down on paper for him, reminding him to buy a small container with a screw top that she could transfer her urine into for Shuri.  Before he left Tracey hugged him then gazed up at him.

"Whatever happens, I am certain that marrying you was the best decision I have ever made," she said.  "You're it for me, James Buchanan Barnes.  Don't you ever forget that.  I'm yours forever."

He looked down on his wife's upturned face, feeling the truth in what she just said by how she was looking at him.  She really was too good for him, and he would do all he could to live up to that.  They kissed fiercely, then he checked to make sure he had his room card and left her there. 

While he was gone Tracey went into the bathroom again and opened her robe, checking the bite marks again.  As a nurse she knew this wasn't normal healing for a normal human.  The implications of the changes this healing ability was part of weren't frightening but it was unsettling.  Was she turning into a super soldier?  The thought of a super soldier child was much more believable.  She had always assumed and accepted that what was done to Bucky affected him genetically.  It only stood to reason that a child could inherit those abilities.  Leaving the bathroom, she turned out its light and sat on an armchair, waiting patiently for Bucky's return.  They would learn the answers together, as the partners in life they now were.

The sound of the key card opening the door lock alerted her to her husband's arrival and she stood up when Bucky entered.  He handed her the package from the store and stayed in the bedroom as she went into the bathroom, coming out a few minutes later.

"Three minutes," she said, turning the timer of her phone on.

He sat on the armchair, then patted his lap and Tracey sat on him, curling her legs up so he could cuddle her.  With her head on his shoulder, they sat like that, with an occasional kiss as they waited.  When the timer went off, they both got up and Tracey took him by the hand to the bathroom where she had left the stick.  Picking it up she held it so they could both read the result.

"Pregnant, 2-3 weeks," she said softly.  "Bucky, we're going to have a baby."

Enclosing her in his arms so that her head was pressed against his chest Bucky struggled to keep his emotions in check.  This was life changing news for him, in more ways than one.  As she looked up at him he ran his hands through her hair then kissed her, putting all of his love into it.

"There was a concern that I couldn't father children," he said quietly.  "The levels of different chemicals in my body when I first got to Wakanda were troubling to them.  The longer I was there the more the levels dropped but there was always a fear that the damage was permanent.  I guess my body healed that part of me, making it possible but I've never been with anyone long enough to find out for sure, not until you."

"You'll be a good dad, Bucky," replied Tracey, tears forming in her eyes.  "I know it for a fact.  We better let Shuri know.  Are we going to tell the others?"

"Just Rebecca, Sam, and your mom for now," he replied.  "Don't want word to get out.  We should take the garbage from the kit with us so the hotel staff don't see it."  His eyes were now developing tears.  "I love you so much and I know you'll be an incredible mother because you're an incredible woman."

He sent Shuri a text message about the positive test, with a response from her that a medical team from the Wakandan embassy were going to pick up the urine sample and take blood from both of them.  She promised they would begin to look for answers immediately in the embassy medical centre, then she herself would become involved upon her return to Wakanda the following week.  An hour later the team from Wakanda arrived and took the blood samples. 

Although the couple were full of nervous energy about what they had learned Tracey knew they needed to eat and she ordered from room service.  Surprisingly, by the time the food arrived she found she was ravenous and ate not just from her plate but from Bucky's, further proof that whatever was happening to her was increasing her appetite.  By the time they were finished Sam texted that they were on the way to take them to the airport.  Packing everything up, including the pregnancy test wrapper the couple left the room and headed down to the front desk where Bucky checked out and they sat in the lobby waiting.  They shared a sofa, holding hands while they waited.  Several people stopped upon recognizing Bucky, and he was polite to all of them.  A couple of people shook hands with him, telling him how much they sympathized with his experiences of being a PoW. 

When Sam finally arrived he helped them out by carrying Tracey's bag.  Instead of Tracey's car picking them up it was a limousine, courtesy of Pepper Stark.  Once they were inside Bucky was relieved to see that it was just Janice and Rebecca inside.  Once they got on their way he leaned to the driver.

"I need to have a confidential conversation with my family," said Bucky.  "Is there any way you can put the privacy panel up for a time?"

"No problem, Mr. Barnes," replied the driver and he pressed a button which raised the panel.

Sam looked at Bucky with a puzzled expression.  "What's up?"

"Just some news that we wanted to share," replied Bucky.  "You can't tell anyone."  He looked at Tracey who nodded her encouragement.  "Something happened last night.  We don't want to get into the details, but I called Shuri about it and went out earlier for a pregnancy test.  Tracey is pregnant, 2-3 weeks along." 

The others reacted with joy, and hugs were shared then Sam scrutinized Bucky's face, knowing something more was happening. 

"Shuri sent a medical team to take blood from us and the urine I used for the test, as she suspects something unique is happening to me," said Tracey.  "I may be developing super soldier abilities, but she doesn't know if it's permanent or a temporary side effect of the pregnancy."

"You're alright, though," said Janice, a bit of worry crossing her face.

"I feel good," replied Tracey.  "I ate more breakfast than I usually do, and my healing abilities seem to have increased.  It's just my body is changing and we're not sure how or what is going to show up next."

"You can't tell anyone," cautioned Bucky.  "For obvious reasons.  When we get back we're probably going to Wakanda for a bit for some more investigation.  You should come, Rebecca.  I'm sure we can arrange a portal with the sorcerers so you don't have to deal with the stress of a long flight.  I know that you would love it there."

The older woman looked at her brother and sister-in-law with obvious affection.  "I'm so happy for you," she said softly.  "This is wonderful news for you and I know you'll be the best parents.  Of course, I'll go there with you.  To see the place that helped you when you needed it the most would be something else."

For the rest of the ride to the airport the other three shared how the reception went after Bucky and Tracey left.  Apparently, the reception was crashed by the Guardians of the Galaxy and Peter Quill danced up a storm to the set that had 70s and 80s party music.

"They were invited but I didn't know where to send the invitation," said Bucky.  "I'm sorry I missed them."  He looked at Tracey.  "Peter is half human but the rest of his crew are from various planets.  That includes a real cyborg woman, named Nebula ..." he glared at Sam who often joked about Bucky being cyborg "... a tree creature who only says "I am Groot" which apparently means a lot of different things including his name, and a sentient raccoon who has a thing for my cybernetic arm.  He keeps offering to buy it from me.  Did Gamora come?"

Sam shook his head.  "They're on the outs again.  Drax and Mantis weren't with them either, apparently doing some Christmas shopping."  He saw Bucky's surprised look.  "Yeah, they're going to celebrate Christmas at their hideout but it's all a hush hush surprise for Peter.  Rocket took a shine to Rebecca."

Bucky looked at his sister who grinned.  "He was very sweet with me.  Told me of some of his adventures.  Offered me money to steal your arm."  She laughed.  "He wasn't serious.  Said he still owes you for helping him during the battle of Wakanda."

"I'm sorry we missed them," said Bucky.  "They do know how to party."

Rebecca glanced at Sam then at Janice, who cleared her throat.  "There was one more party crasher," she said, looking sadly at her daughter.  "Your dad showed up.  Demanded to know why he wasn't invited to the wedding.  Said it was his right to walk you down the aisle and to have the father-daughter dance with you.  He was pretty drunk."

"Did he hurt you?" asked Tracey.

Janice shook her head.  "No, we called the police on him for violating the protection order.  Rhodey and several others held him until the police got there.  We still don't know how he found out where the reception was.  I think Matt and Rhodey were going to talk to him today at the remand facility."

"Anyway, you're all caught up," said Sam.  "You'll have a great time on your private island.  Only Pepper and I know where you are so you won't be bothered.  I gotta say I'm a little envious."

"Well, I do like my privacy," said Bucky.  "We'll be back in a week and things can get back to normal."

The limousine arrived at the airport and dropped them off, indicating he would wait for Sam, Rebecca, and Janice in another area.  All they had to do was text him when they were ready to leave and he would come to the door.  With Rebecca receiving Sam's arm they went inside with the others and waited as Bucky and Tracey checked in for their flight to Nassau, Bahamas.  Slowly, at Rebecca's pace they walked to the security check-in.

"You have your special permit for your arm?" asked Sam.  "Your passports as well?"

"Yes, Dad," replied Bucky, grinning at his friend.  "I've got it all here.  You remember the code if there's any trouble?"

"Brooklyn," answered Sam.  "It will be fine.  Rebecca, Janice and I will hit up a bunch of blues and jazz clubs and see what kind of trouble we can get into."

"Right," smiled Bucky, then his face grew serious.  "Thanks for everything.  You're a good friend."

"You're welcome," he said, hugging Bucky.  "You just have a great time with your wife."  He turned to Tracey and hugged her.  "I knew you two had something special the first time I met you.  Don't take any shit from him."

"He doesn't even try," she replied, then she turned to Rebecca.  "It's official, we're sisters.  You be good for my mom."

"I'm always good," said Rebecca.  "You and Bucky have a good honeymoon.  Tell him you love him as many times as you can."

They hugged affectionately then Janice, who had hugged Bucky first, turned to hug her daughter and wish them both the best.  Bucky stood before his sister, gazing down at her with a soft smile.

"Don't you give these people a hard time," he said.  "Listen to your body.  When you're tired, have a nap or go to bed.  You're entitled to relax."  He leaned over to hug her and whispered in her ear.  "I love you, little sister.  You better be here at the airport when I get back."

She placed her hand on his cheek and smiled.  "I'll be here."  Bucky turned to go, and she called to him.  "Bucky, I've always looked up to you.  You're my big brother and my hero."

He stepped quickly to her and hugged her again, kissing her on top of her head.  Then he took Tracey's hand and they got into the special lineup at security, the one that his permit allowed him to go through without a problem.  Just before they entered the enclosed area they turned and waved at the three people who were their family then stepped inside.  After Tracey went through the metal detector, Bucky went through beside it and submitted to the hand wand that confirmed his arm was metal.  They picked up their hand luggage and went to the gate, sitting down to wait for their flight.  An hour later, they were in their first class seats and champagne was offered to them.  Tracey turned it down, so Bucky did also, wanting to support her.  Fresh squeezed orange juice was brought, and they sipped it as the aircraft filled up.  When the jet was backed out of its gate Bucky held Tracey's hand right through the takeoff. 

Three hours later they landed in Nassau where a limousine awaited them to transport them to the sea plane terminal in town.  Pepper Stark had booked them a private sea plane to Kamalame Cay Resort, on Andros Island.  A very private resort, they would have a beach villa to themselves, far enough away from everything to have total and complete privacy.  As they boarded the seaplane the pilot recognized Bucky and asked if he wished to have a go at the controls.

"Thank you but I'll leave the flying to you," said Bucky.  "I'm not rated to fly a single engine seaplane."

"No worries, Mr. Barnes," joked the pilot, Edwin.  "I'm not rated for a quinjet either.  I wouldn't know what the controls meant."  He looked at Tracey.  "Your honeymoon?"

Bucky nodded.  "Yes, this is my wife, Tracey."

"Well, welcome to the Bahamas," replied the friendly pilot.  "I hope you enjoy your stay at the resort.  It's very private; perfect for honeymooning couples."

Half an hour later they landed in the ocean off of a small island and the aircraft taxied up to a dock where two men helped anchor it in place.  The door was opened, and Bucky stepped out first to help Tracey.  One of the two men told them to walk to the waiting golf cart while they took care of their luggage.  A driver drove them to their villa, showing them where everything was located. 

"I understand you wish to take all your meals here in the villa," he said.  "What time would you like dinner served today?"

Bucky and Tracey looked at each other.  "Is 7:30 alright?"

"Yes sir, if you could just look at the menu and make your choices, I'll make sure the kitchen gets that right away," he said.  "The breakfast menu will be brought with that meal, and you can choose your foods and time you wish to be served then."  He waited politely while they made their choices.  "If you're indisposed when we arrive the meal will be left on the dining room table.  Your luggage will be here in 5 minutes.  I hope you enjoy your stay in Kamalame Cay."

When he left Tracey turned to Bucky then looked outside.  "I've never seen water that colour.  It's beautiful here."

He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her passionately.  "It's beautiful because you're here," he whispered.  "Let's go have a look from the deck."

They stepped out onto the deck that overlooked the water, noting the sun was very low in the west.  It was quiet except for the lapping of the gentle waves just feet away from the bottom of the steps down to the beach.  Tracey slipped her shoes off and rolled up her pant legs.  Bucky followed suit and they made their way down to the beach where they stood ankle deep in the warm waters, their arms around each other.  Putting his arms around Tracey, Bucky kissed her tenderly.

"I love you, Mrs. Barnes," he whispered.

"I love you, Mr. Barnes," she whispered back.

After several more minutes of kissing, they noticed their luggage was being delivered and stepped to the beach, retrieved their shoes, then walked up the stairs to their villa.  A small tap at the side of the deck allowed them to rinse their feet and they were pleased that one of the men who brought their luggage brought them a towel to dry off their feet.  Unpacking their luggage took time because of a major interruption which indisposed them but also brought their dinner while they were still in the bedroom.  Once again, Tracey ate everything off of her plate and some of Bucky's food.   Eventually everything was unpacked, and they were able to sit on the chairs at the end of their bed, taking in the night sounds of the gentle ocean.  Then Bucky closed the doors, pulled the curtains closed and together the newlywed couple showed each other the extent of their love, ending in the best sleep either of them could remember having.

Chapter 18>>

Series Masterlist

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[thelordofgifs]

20 questions for fic writers

Thank you @sallysavestheday and @grey-gazania! I was eyeing this one and hoping for a tag, some great questions here.

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 51, although one's a podfic.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 250,683. More than half of which is from last year alone!

3. What fandoms do you write for? Currently exclusively the Silmarillion, with the occasional little LoTR ficlet.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? the fairest stars, Inflection, an ancient song, all those that follow, Ilimbë. I'm always surprised by an ancient song's popularity – it was a pretty low-effort ficlet – but a solid list nonetheless!

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes, always! (Glances nervously at the pile I've accumulated in the last couple of weeks of travelling). I love replying to comments, though. It's so nice to be able to engage with all my lovely thoughtful readers and their excellent thoughts!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? ever an anguish that pursued is pretty bleak. before the black gale is also a tragedy of sorts, though I'm not sure that makes it qualify as angsty as such.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Ilimbë ends quite joyfully, although while writing the final scene I did have the shadow of their unhappy future in mind! I think the cleaving's ending is also quite happy, or at the very least cathartic.

8. Do you get hate on fics? No, thankfully! All my readers have been very kind and appreciative <3

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Three fics so far! All of which were gifts for friends, and made me push my boundaries a little. I'm proud of all of them, though! Smut is less scary than I used to think :)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? No, never! If I did, it would probably be more of a retelling/AU than straight-up having characters from different fandoms meet.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not to my knowledge!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No – I fear I am rather too much of a control freak for this, and would rather not inflict myself and my pedantry on an unsuspecting co-writer.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Russingon... it's the forbidden romance and the doomed nature of it all and the fact that love wasn't enough to save them :( also the murders, of course.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? boats against the current, the "Maedhros doesn't swear the Oath" AU I blithely started back in 2022, is simply not going anywhere at any sort of speed. Perhaps this is the year! Let's see.

16. What are your writing strengths? Dialogue and characterisation! I'm good at emotional beats, I think.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Description... I tend to write VERY minimally and then have to go back on edits and add in some descriptive language so that the entire story isn't just two talking heads in an empty room. Always very pleased when people compliment my descriptions for that reason – they take conscious effort!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Fine if it's footnoted, I think. I tend to avoid it on the basis that all the dialogue I write has been "translated" from one of Tolkien's languages anyway; and I don't know any real languages well enough to write fic in them.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Harry Potter, although I've soured on the fandom now for obvious reasons :/ For a while I used to think that I could still enjoy the books I loved so much growing up while separating them from the author, but she's so continually hateful and bigoted that I just... can't gain any enjoyment from the franchise anymore. Which is painful, but I'm glad I have the silm fandom to absorb all my creative energy now!

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? the fairest stars! My weird gremlin baby, I love it so. I never expected to care about this fic as much as I did, but I've poured so much thought and heart into it that it was perhaps inevitable. And it's taught me so much about writing cliffhangers :)

No-pressure tags for @eilinelsghost, @searchingforserendipity25, @welcomingdisaster, @that-angry-noldo, @swanmaids, @echo-bleu, @jouissants, @tanoraqui and anyone else who, like me, was eyeing this one hoping to be tagged – @ me and say I tagged you!

[saturnine-saturneight]

Writerly Questionnaire

@davycoquette posted this up and it looks fun :)

About You

When did you start writing?

I started writing poetry somewhere in my early teens, then expanded to short snippets when my school had a creative writing workshop as part of a week long retreat. I did some minor roleplaying on the [Country redacted] version of Facebook, then started roleplaying on a fandom specific forum at 17... Started running with a group on Discord and Tumblr and learned how to write well with a dictionary always open in another tab. It's how I learned the majority of both my conversational and my writing English!

Are the genres/themes you enjoy reading different from the ones you write?

There are themes I really don't like to watch or read, but love to write, for example medical horror and body horror. I get squicked out when I'm not in control of those. I also adore detective fiction, especially Poirot, but don't have an interest in putting together a murder mystery myself.

Is there an author (or just a fellow writer!) you want to emulate, or one to whom you’re often compared?

I think the way I write is very conversational and very stream of consciousness. I'm a child of the internet, and you could make an easy comparison to other people writing indie online, but I'm not sure the comparison is as easy when you're looking at bigger, traditionally published authors. I think about the way I write in comparison to the Realism art movement sometimes. I want to emulate how people really talk, and I want to get deep into the nitty gritty of a psyche.

Can you tell me a little about your writing space(s)? (Room, coffee shop, desk, etc.)

Laying down ✌️

What’s your most effective way to muster up some muse?

Daydreaming! Dozing, napping, taking a walk, doing the dishes; anything that lets my mind wander.

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and places you write about?

Not really. See above, child of the internet, but I'm also not sure I can capture what my country is really like. I never feel all that informed or all that "with it" here.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing, and if so, do they surprise you at all?

Come back with a warrant, lmfao.

Your Characters

Would you please tell me about your current favorite character? (Current WIP, past WIP, never used, etc.)

This is hard for me to decide because I really do love most of my characters equally when I just spend enough time with them. Of course it's Ron right now, I'm writing his story and he's living in a bigger corner of my brain than usual. I never really figured out what he had to say until pretty recently, he's always been a very taciturn narrator and loathe to talk about his feelings in dialogue. Throwing him into a fully moving plot and inflicting The Horrors on him really makes him react, and it's endearing him to me a lot.

Which of your characters do you think you’d be friends with in real life?

Matcha! She's goofy and sweet and she has a lot of things to talk about. We'd just need to set boundaries early because I'm not a fan of being flirted with. I also think I could get along with most of the rest, at least on friendly terms.

Which of your characters would you dislike the most if you met them?

Nat is an amalgamation of the worst traits and tendencies that I see in other people and myself. They're also a bully, which is something that personally makes me see red. They can go be a sympathetic villain somewhere else.

Tell me about the process of coming up with of one, all, or any of your characters.

So the very first one of the bunch was Teo. He was originally a pirate, and I made him to be weird and angsty and complex, but also kind of a liar who'd just boast about things unfounded. I thought this was easy to figure out, but I started noticing people taking him at his word, so I made Haru to call him out on his shit. These two were good foils, but didn't talk that much, so I made Rabbit who can never shut up to deliver some exposition.

When I make a character, they fill a niche in a dynamic, and/or have behaviors and beliefs that I want to write about. The rest is vibes.

Do you notice any recurring themes/traits among your characters?

I try to make them pretty diverse from each other, but there's always a general sense of overcoming and survival that I think is fascinating and write a lot about.

How do you picture them? (As real people you imagined, as models/actors who exist in real life, as imaginary artwork, as artwork you made or commissioned, anime style, etc.)

I don't have 20/20 vision in my imagination, things are pretty fuzzy. Real people, but stylized, I think.

Your Writing

What’s your reason for writing?

To create a space where I can really dig into the things I like and the things that are on my mind. I'm also pretty competitive towards myself. I always want to be better at something than I have been so far.

Is there a specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating coming from your readers?

I love comments that really pinpoint which moments or beats a reader enjoyed...

How do you want to be thought of by those who read your work? (For example: as a literary genius, or as a writer who “gets” the human condition; as a talented worldbuilder, as a role model, etc.)

Just some guy, please.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Character depth and dialogue.

What have you been frequently told your greatest writing strength is by others?

Dialogue also, and a certain sense of... chaos? Urgency? My longer form stuff has been described as 'one long rollercoaster'.

How do you feel about your own writing? (Answer in whatever way you interpret this question.)

Eh. I'm happy when it turns out well.

If you were the last person on earth and knew your writing would never be read by another human, would you still write?

Oh that's a mean question. I do have a little bit of a "what's going to be my legacy" thing going on. Yeah, I think I would still write, though. I really do it for the fun of it as well. It's just a lot less fun when I can't bounce it off other people and see what it turns into where it meets their lives and their experiences.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely what you enjoy? If it’s a mix of the two, which holds the most influence

On a line by line basis, I have an issue of trying to write to a worst faith reader that I'm trying to work through, but the larger picture is completely just what I enjoy and not written to a specific genre, reader, or market.

I am tagging @marlowethelibrarian @fortunatetragedy @paeliae-occasionally @lychhiker-writes @rotting-moon-writes and YOU 🫵