#x« — ❞ drama. the world will burn in my fall from grace.

[angelsfat3]

ⓘㅤ 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐌 ⠀⠀( 你将是我的！)

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 “ ✉. Being an exotic dancer can have its perks, making the bar owner obsessed with you is one of them.

⠀،،⠀Genre. ’ Suggestive, fanfiction, drama, Mafia! Heeseung x Stripper!malereader.

( 𝒄/𝒘. )───Alcohol, drugs, half-baked sex, blood (mild).

The club was at its peak, lights flickering across the space as bodies swayed to the rhythm of the music. Among them, one figure stood out—[...]—whose lean frame and hypnotic movements drew every gaze. He wasn't just another dancer; he was a living work of art, though he always kept an emotional distance. His job was to dance, nothing more. He wasn’t the type who sold himself for a few hours or minutes. If they wanted his company, they’d have to settle for watching, because his body was his own, and it wasn’t for sale.

Even so, he couldn’t shake the weight of Heeseung’s gaze from the VIP section—a stare that seemed to burn from across the room. It was impossible to ignore. Heeseung had a presence that consumed everything around him, like a predator surveying his territory. His striking face, chiseled jaw, and dark eyes made him stand out even more. But what truly made him intimidating was the effortless control he had over everything around him. As he smoked his cigarette, shirt slightly unbuttoned with a silver chain glinting under the dim light, he seemed to command not just the room, but the situation itself.

[...]—flirty but always mindful of his professionalism—continued his routine, his movements perfectly calculated to captivate but never invite anything more. It was a delicate game, one he knew how to play. Every spin, every glide of his body along the pole was a statement: "You can look, but you can't touch." But when his eyes met Heeseung’s, something shifted. That man had a silver tongue, one that had likely brought down people much tougher than [...] was used to. And worst of all, Heeseung knew it. He knew [...] noticed him and relished the power it gave him.

When the show ended, [...] stepped off the stage with the same grace he had climbed onto it, his eyes locked onto Heeseung's. He knew this moment was inevitable. He had watched Heeseung for weeks, aware that this man wasn’t like the other patrons who frequented the club. Heeseung was dangerous—not just for what he could do, but for what he represented. A man like him didn’t just have money and power; he had the ability to destroy lives with a smile.

Heeseung rose from his seat in the VIP section and approached with the same calm demeanor that defined him. Every step was measured, as though the world revolved around him. When he finally reached [...], he wasted no time.

“How much for the night?” he asked, his voice smooth but firm, as if he already knew the answer. His gaze never left [...]’s, not for a second.

[...] met his eyes, knowing that anyone else would have crumbled under his game, but not him. He couldn’t afford to fall so easily. Even though Heeseung tempted him with that silver tongue and overwhelming presence, [...] wasn’t the type to sell his body. Not for anyone, and certainly not for money.

“I don’t charge for my time—just for my dance,” [...] replied, his tone playful but firm, making it clear he wasn’t for sale. His smile was a double-edged sword, teasing but with enough distance to let Heeseung know he wouldn’t be easy to get.

Heeseung smirked slightly, as if he had expected that answer. His eyes narrowed as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, and the air between them grew heavier. “I’m not interested in what you charge, [...]. I’m interested in you,” he said, his deep voice cutting through the noise of the club. “And trust me, it’s not about the money.”

[...] kept his composure, though he felt the pressure of that gaze. He knew Heeseung wasn’t the type to take no for an answer easily, but he also knew how to handle these situations. His body was his business, and no one was going to claim it.

“Heeseung, you’re the kind of man who always gets what he wants, aren’t you?” [...] said, his tone teasing but measured. “But there’s something you need to understand. I’m not part of that ‘everything’ you can snap your fingers and get.”

Heeseung’s smile widened just a fraction, as if he was enjoying the challenge. He took a step closer, invading [...]’s personal space without hesitation. “I don’t bend for anyone, [...],” he said, his voice carrying a dangerous edge. “But I’ll give you a chance to reconsider. I’m not a man who waits around too long.”

The tension between them was palpable. [...] may have been flirting with the idea, but he knew Heeseung wasn’t like the other men he’d dealt with. This man was determined, serious, and behind those dark eyes, there was a world of danger that [...] couldn’t even begin to imagine. And yet, there was something about Heeseung that pulled him in—something that made him want to know more.

[...] smirked, tilting his head slightly. “Two hours. That’s all you’re getting. If that works for you, great. If not, I’m sure there are others who’d be happy to dance for you.”

Heeseung held his gaze, never breaking eye contact. “Two hours will do for now,” he said, his tone low and controlled. “But trust me, it won’t be enough for either of us. There’s more between us, and you know it.”

As Heeseung stubbed out his cigarette and stepped back, [...] couldn’t help but feel like he had just entered a game far bigger than he had anticipated. A game where Heeseung always seemed to have the final word. But one thing was certain: [...] wasn’t about to give in so easily, no matter how tempting this man was—the man who, with a smile, could burn the world for the right person.

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension when [...] finally walked in, making Heeseung wait over thirty minutes. It was deliberate—every second of delay was part of the game, a way to stretch Heeseung’s patience even further.

Dressed in something bold and borderline obscene, yet undeniably elegant, [...] sauntered toward him with slow, calculated steps.

The room—an exclusive, high-end suite known as the Crystal Room—was built for moments like this: low lights, velvet couches, and an unavoidable air of intimacy. It wasn’t like the other club rooms, this was reserved for the high rollers, the VIPs who craved a more personal experience. But tonight, [...]’ focus was locked onto his sole audience: Heeseung.

Heeseung lounged on the couch, watching him, his presence as commanding as ever. In one hand, a crystal glass of whiskey, and between his fingers, a cigarette that he lazily brought to his lips every now and then. His white shirt was undone just enough to reveal his chiseled chest, a silver chain dangling over his skin.

His piercing gaze had never once left [...] from the second he’d entered the room.

“Made me wait, didn’t you,” Heeseung’s voice was low and gravelly as he tilted his head slightly, taking a sip of whiskey. His eyes glinted with desire, but there was an edge of frustration too.

[...] smiled, knowing full well the effect he had on him.

"I just wanted to make sure you were ready for what's about to happen," he teased, his voice dripping with seduction as he moved with fluid grace through the room.

Slowly, [...] began his routine, spinning around the pole in the center of the room with movements that left little to the imagination. But it wasn’t just the dance that captivated Heeseung—it was the way [...] shed his clothes, piece by piece, each move a promise of passion.

First, he undid his leather jacket, letting it slide gracefully to the floor. Then, in one smooth motion, he pulled off his tight shirt, revealing his sculpted torso.

Heeseung’s gaze darkened, and he shifted in his seat, spreading his legs wider as his fingers played with the rim of his glass and the buttons of his shirt.

[...] could feel the shift in the air, the way the tension built with each step. His hips swayed slowly, his body arching, drawing closer to Heeseung only to pull away again. The game was clear—the seduction, the tease, the unspoken promise between two bodies that craved each other.

Heeseung, for his part, couldn’t stop readjusting in his seat. With a slow gesture, he began loosening his cool, his eyes never leaving [...]’ form. "You're killing me, you know that?" he muttered, undoing more buttons, exposing his entire chest.

[...] smirked as he spun around, letting Heeseung take in every angle. "Killing you? I thought you liked a little foreplay," he teased, though his eyes remained sharp, focused.

Heeseung let out a dry chuckle, his fingers undoing the last of his shirt buttons, fully revealing his toned chest, that silver chain catching the dim light.

“You know damn well what you’re doing,” his deep voice dripped with desire. "But come here... I don't want you dancing so far away."

Before [...] could respond, he felt Heeseung’s strong hands grip his waist, pulling him onto his lap. The contact was electric, their skin brushing as Heeseung’s breath became heavier. “Dance here,” Heeseung commanded in a tone that left no room for argument.

The contact was immediate, and the heat between them grew almost tangible. [...] slowed his movements as he settled on Heeseung’s lap, feeling the tension in the mobster’s body as he let out a soft groan.

“That’s better,” Heeseung whispered, his hands roaming over [...]’ hips, tracing his body with a mixture of possession and admiration. "Right where I want you."

As [...] moved slowly on him, Heeseung closed his eyes for a brief moment, savoring the feeling of having him so close, his usual control slipping away bit by bit. His hands traveled up [...]’ waist, over his back, until they reached his shoulders.

[...] met his gaze with a seductive smile, grinding slowly against him, creating a friction that only made the tension between them grow. "You like that, huh?" he teased, enjoying the rare vulnerability he saw flicker across his client’s face.

Heeseung’s eyes opened, locking onto [...]’, and for a moment, everything else faded. The room was silent, save for the soft music playing in the background, heavy with unspoken promises.

“It’s not about liking it,” Heeseung whispered, his voice a mere breath as his hands cupped [...]’ face, giving his cheeks a firm squeeze. “It’s about the fact that you’ve got me wrapped around your finger. Completely.”

The heat between them was building with every motion. [...] continued grinding on him, his hips moving slowly on the dominant’s lap, each brush a reminder of the rising desire.

But despite the closeness, there was an ongoing power struggle—a silent game where, no matter how much Heeseung tried to dominate, he couldn’t hide his vulnerability in front of the man who had him hooked.

Heeseung let one hand slide down [...]’ back, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone with his reputation.

“Quit playing games with me,” he whispered with a dangerous smile, his eyes a mix of frustration and hunger. “You know how badly I want you…” His breath was hot against [...]’ ear, causing the dancer’s skin to tingle.

Feeling the intensity of the moment and the growing ache between his legs, [...] leaned forward, his chest brushing against Heeseung’s, his breath hovering just over his neck. “Then why don’t you take me, boss? If you want me that bad…” The challenge in his voice was clear, but so was the invitation.

Heeseung’s gaze darkened, becoming even more intense as his hands gripped [...]’ hips firmly.

“You’re too damn good at this, shit..” he growled with a crooked smile, pulling him closer, eliminating what little space was left between them. “But I’m done playing... tonight, you’re all mine.”

Heeseung held onto [...]’ waist with a possessive grip, his fingers digging into his skin as the brunette’s heart raced even faster. The room felt charged, each passing second deepening the tension. Heeseung’s eyes dropped to [...]’ lips, darkened with desire, and with a sudden decision, he closed the gap.

The kiss was rough, desperate, a crash of lips that had been waiting too long. There was no gentleness, only a raw, primal need that had been building throughout the dancer’s teasing.

Heeseung grabbed [...]’ face with one hand, his thumb pressing firmly against his jaw, holding him in place. The kiss was intense, as if Heeseung wanted to claim every inch of the boy mouth, a hunger he could no longer contain.

The mobster’s tongue skillfully invaded [...]’ mouth, drawing a soft moan from the dancer as Heeseung’s lips moved with more wild urgency, the taste of whiskey and nicotine flooding his senses.

[...] could feel his own body reacting with a growing need, his hands finding their way to Heeseung’s shoulders, clutching at his shirt as the heat between them swelled, unstoppable.

Heeseung let out a low growl, his lips never leaving [...]’, as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Every movement was ravenous, like he wanted to devour him whole, and with every passing second, the control he prided himself on was slipping away.

His fingers trailed down [...]’ back, leaving a trail of heat in their wake until they reached the edge of his pants. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you,” he murmured against his lips, breaking the kiss just long enough to whisper those words before diving back in.

[...] could hardly think, his body trembling under Heeseung’s dominance, feeling the growing pressure of the mobster’s arousal beneath him. His mind clouded with desire, overwhelmed by the way Heeseung kissed him, touched him, made him feel like the only thing that mattered in the world at that moment.

Heeseung’s hands, quick and confident, slid lower, gripping his ass firmly. The touch made [...] gasp, his body instinctively leaning closer to Heeseung, craving more of the fire that consumed them both, burning hotter with each passing second.

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

The room was filled with fragmented sounds,

[...]’s muffled moans blending with the steady rhythm of their bodies colliding.

Heeseung had taken complete control of the situation, his body moving with a wild precision as he thrust into [...] again and again, showing no mercy.

The stripper's body quivered under each thrust, his skin tingling, marked entirely by Heeseung's fingers digging into his hips and buttocks, leaving clear reddish traces that would take days to fade.

[...] lay on the bed, his chest pressed against the sweat-soaked sheets, his hips elevated in the air, fully presenting himself to Heeseung. His hands tried to grip the sheets, but he could barely hold on as every movement from Heeseung made him lose any semblance of control over his own body.

He was completely disheveled, his hair plastered to his forehead, and his skin flushed a deep red, a testament to the pleasure consuming him.

Heeseung, on the other hand, was focused on every movement, his gaze locked on how his cock plunged in and out of [...], marking him deep within, claiming him in a way that left no doubt about who was dominating at that moment.

“Look at you… taking me so well,” he growled through clenched teeth, his hands gripping [...]’s ass harder, pulling him apart with a force that only heightened the pressure and pleasure. “No one else will have you like this… only me.”

[...] tried to respond, but the words slipped away. He could barely form coherent sounds; his moans mingled with broken gasps, and every time he attempted to speak, all that came out was a faint stutter from his own lips.

His body was so sensitive that each thrust left him breathless, his mind completely clouded by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him.

Heeseung's movements grew more aggressive, his rhythm unyielding as he pushed deeper and deeper into [...], harder each time. The sound of skin slapping against skin grew louder, echoing with each wave that rippled across the passive's flushed cheeks, resonating in the room.

[...]’s muffled moans became sharper, his body unable to contain the impact of each thrust, his nails clawing at the sheets as he felt his mind unravel under the pressure.

“I'm going to fill you… until you can’t think of anything else but what we did tonight, how this ass took my cock...” Heeseung murmured in a deep voice, leaning over [...]’s body, his hot breath colliding against the stripper's sweaty back.

Heeseung took one of [...]’s hands and slid it down the side of his body, squeezing one of his glutes tightly, eliciting a stifled moan.

The sensation of Heeseung's touch, combined with the marks he left, made [...] feel completely possessed, invaded by an overwhelming wave of desire he couldn’t ignore. Every time Heeseung’s fingers sank into his skin, it felt like the heat inside him intensified, as if the fire burning between them would never extinguish.

The rhythm quickened, and [...] could no longer hold back; his climax had arrived once more. His moans turned into a constant echo, his body trembling beneath Heeseung as he filled him again and again.

His mind was lost in pleasure, every fiber of his being focused on the intensity of the thrusts, on how Heeseung claimed him without reservation, without mercy.

Finally, when the climax seemed imminent, Heeseung let out a low, deep grunt, gripping [...]'s hips tighter, moving with a brutal rhythm as he pushed one last time with a depth that made him groan in pure ecstasy.

[...]’s body tensed, his back arching from the pleasure of being filled. His mind went blank, his legs shaking from pleasure as his breathing became erratic, releasing soft sobs.

Heeseung, still moving, leaned down to gently bite the skin of [...]’s shoulder, leaving one last mark, a final claim over his body.

"You’re mine, forever," he whispered in a low voice, his lips brushing against the chestnut’s ear as they both collapsed onto the bed, their bodies exhausted yet satisfied, illuminated by the dim light of the moon that still enveloped them.

After a few minutes, Heeseung slowly withdrew, his breath still heavy as he pulled out of [...] with one last deep sigh.

As he exited him, the wet sound and [...]’s faint whimper made him smile with pride.

He watched as the boy’s hips sank heavily onto the bed, too weak to hold themselves up after what they had shared.

[...]'s skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, the muscles in his back taut and trembling as Heeseung gazed at him, utterly pleased.

His eyes drifted downward, darkening even further as he noticed his seed slowly leaking from [...], sliding down to his balls. The sight before him was living proof of his dominance, a testament to how he had marked and claimed the boy’s body during those hours when he had pushed him to his limits again and again.

Heeseung's smile widened, tinged with a mix of perversion and satisfaction at seeing the result of their wild passion.

“You look gorgeous like this, completely filled with me,” he murmured in a gravelly voice, his warm breath caressing the nape of [...]’s neck as one of his hands glided gently down his sweaty back.

He caressed the curve of his hip, making sure to feel every trembling muscle, every trace of exhaustion he had left on his body. “I can’t help but smile when I see you so wrecked... knowing I was the one who left you like this.”

[...], exhausted, could barely move. His body trembled with the remnants of pleasure and painful bliss coursing through him, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath.

Every muscle ached, every part of him marked, not just by Heeseung's hands and lips, but by the brutality with which he had put him into positions he had already lost count of. His mind was foggy, barely aware of where he was.

During the nearly three hours they had spent together, Heeseung had explored every corner of the room. He had flipped [...] over the sofa, pushed him against the wall, laid him across the center table, and finally returned to the bed, each time with overwhelming intensity.

In each of those moments, he had brought [...] to the brink of ecstasy, only to stop just before he could fall, prolonging the pleasure until the dancer's body could no longer withstand it.

[...] let out a low moan as he tried to move, but his body didn’t quite respond. His back involuntarily arched as Heeseung’s trembling hands still caressed him, now with a softer touch, as if savoring the calm after the storm.

The marks from the thrusts still throbbed on his skin, and he felt the heat inside him starting to cool, though the sensations remained as intense as moments before.

Heeseung, still wearing that arrogant smile, watched as [...]’s body surrendered completely.

“You’re beautiful like this... completely mine,” he murmured, leaning down to gently kiss the base of [...]’s back, right where the marks from his hands were still visible. “There’s not a single spot in this room where I haven’t taken you... not a corner I haven’t fucked.”

[...] could only nod weakly, his breathing labored and his mind lost in fatigue. Exhaustion was overwhelming him, but he still felt the echo of pleasure in his body, a constant reminder of what had just happened.

Heeseung slowly lay down beside [...], watching as his body still trembled slightly from what they had just shared. With a cigarette perched between his lips, he took a deep drag, letting the smoke drift through the dimly lit room.

[...] lay on his side, palm pressed against the bed, eyes closed, barely able to move, his body spent after hours of intense passion.

Heeseung exhaled slowly, observing how the stripper weakly shifted, his marks visible on every inch of his skin. His fingers gently brushed against [...]’s back, tracing soft lines on his skin, provoking a faint shiver.

“Does it hurt a lot?” Heeseung asked in a low tone, stroking his body with an unusual tenderness for someone like him.

[...] let out a soft “Mmh...” in response, too exhausted to formulate words but making it clear he was still aware of every caress.

“I hate you...” [...] murmured, his voice weak but filled with satisfaction. “Look what you’ve done to me... my whole body is covered in marks, I can’t even move properly.”

A wider smile spread across Heeseung’s lips, letting out a low, husky laugh. “You hate me? A few hours ago, you couldn’t stop saying how much you loved it when my cock was inside you and how big it felt,” he shot back, his tone playful but satisfied. His hands squeezed [...]’s hips tighter.

[...] rolled his eyes, hiding a smile at the corners of his mouth. “Mmh…” was the only response he could muster.

Heeseung regarded him with calculating eyes, relishing the control he had over him. "What a hypocrite..." he whispered, his voice laced with a teasing tone as his fingers glided down the curve of [...]’s back.

[...] let out a shaky sigh, too worn out to argue, too caught up in the moment to fight against the pleasure still coursing through him.

Heeseung continued to watch him in silence, his hand grazing [...]’s skin with a gentler touch this time, as the tension in the room began to ease.

Heeseung broke the silence again, his tone turning serious. “I want you to stop dancing.” His words were direct, shedding the softness of their previous intimacy. “I don’t want anyone else to see you. I want you to be mine and mine alone.”

[...] slightly widened his eyes, though he didn’t respond immediately. Heeseung pressed on, never breaking eye contact. “I can give you everything you want. You wouldn’t need this job anymore... If you want it, I can give you the whole world.” His fingers continued to trace the young man's skin, his cheek flushed from the agitation of the past few hours.

[...] merely smiled, letting out a soft sigh, shifting slightly closer to the taller man’s touch, though it was clear he was listening intently.

“You really... Would you really give me everything?” he murmured, his voice weak but curious, his eyes squinting again from the tender caresses he was receiving, fighting to stay awake.

Heeseung nodded slowly, though [...] didn’t see him. “Everything you want... Just say the word.” His tone was almost hypnotic as he continued to soothingly stroke the weary boy's face and body.

The room fell into silence after that, filled only with the gentle sound of [...]’s breathing. Heeseung watched him sleep, his expression softening as he kept caressing him, waiting, fully aware that [...]’s answer would take time to come.

“Just think about it.”

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ݁⠀⠀،،⠀⠀메모 ! ㅤ⸻ㅤ I honestly just wrote this idea while listening to this song by Amaarae. Although I didn't think I would add smut either... anyway, I'll do the second part later.︐⠀📍⠀

⠀𝒊. ⠀─⠀ All credits to @angelsfat3 / @foschiamara⠀𝄒

. . . ₍⠀아이디어 !ㅤ⸻ㅤI'm very short of ideas lately, so feel free to leave me any requests! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>⠀₎⠀ ִֶָ

˖⠀⠀ ݁⠀©⠀،،⠀If you liked it you can like, follow me or reblog!!

[lola-writes]

One-Eye & the Dreamer

(Aemond's POV)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x O.C Aylana Velaryon

Word Count: 2,2k

Themes & Warnings: slow burn, friends to enemies, enemies to lovers, violence, blood, targcest, sexual themes, tension, drama, angst, fix-it of sorts, eventual smut, sexual inexperience, forbidden love, high valyrian, dance of dragons, POV first person

Summary: Aylana Velaryon foresees Aemond Targaryen's fate and assigns herself to alter it.

Written from Aemond's POV.

More chapters

Gravity had nothing on us, my dear. 

You can’t untie red strings of fate. 

This is how it feels to fall in love with the atmosphere. 

The world surrendered to a symphony of wind.  Turbulence thundered in my ears and whipped my hair untamed as I ascended the skies. Rising higher and higher, the clouds enveloped me in a blinding haze, and the elements of the earth below decreased into a mosaic. I conquered the celestial at such speed that I felt like Aegon reborn. 

Vhagar was an extension of myself, her undulating muscles beneath my straddling body felt as if connected to my own, forcing our masses through the heavens with an effortlessness. I commanded her higher still, and she heeded my command. We defied gravity in a dance of grace and power.

As we approached the stratosphere where air ran thin, I straightened in my saddle, and my mighty Vhagar leveled out, conforming to every delicate change in my movements. The world below became an inverted dreamscape as we sailed the vague interstice that marked the transition between sky and oblivion - the clouds beneath were the unconquered sky, and the indigo above was the ocean, and I was flying upside down. 

Together, Vhagar and I, were limitless.

The memory of when I first claimed her was so potent it eclipsed everything else, real or imagined. It was like walking penniless and finding a mountain of gold at your feet. What was one to do with such power? A power so raw and exhilarating, it consumed. Suddenly, I had no fear. Suddenly, I was not alone…

I leaned into Vhagar’s warmth and she folded her wings against me. We plummeted back down towards the earth, a thrilling drop that sent a jolt of pure ecstasy through my veins. My stomach lurched, and beneath me, Vhagar’s thorax vibrated – a deep, primal roar that resonated through my very bones. In that moment, I mirrored her, a guttural exclaim of pure, unadultered joy escaping my lips.

Never had freedom tasted so sweet.

The force of our descent sliced through the nebulous clouds like a knife through cotton, and as we emerged, the Narrow Sea gaped wide, glittering beneath the noontide sun like a crystal embellished blue silk. I leveled out again and watched Vhagar’s twin loom out of the water. 

In the distance, the seven huge drum-towers, proud sentinels of pale red stone, rose out of the sea on their stony summits, and the tolling bells welcomed me back home. An unfamiliar fleet of ships coasted down Black Water Rush like wooden beads along a blue mesh - an unremarkable observation, as nobles from every corner of the realm had been descending upon King’s Landing for the wedding. They had all come through the gates by horse and carriage, none by sea. 

Traders perhaps? Coming just in time to fortify our stores for the upcoming plunder. 

So many fucking mouths to feed. I had seen them endlessly pour through the castle gates in a river of gold, silver, and polished steel – their banners displaying the sigil of house Lannister, Baratheon, Tully, and I could’ve sworn I saw a direwolf banner among them. Would the Starks truly find a Targaryen wedding of such importance that they would bother dragging themselves out of their frozen pits? It was to be a grand affair, to be sure. A celebration with tourneys, hunts, feasts, and dancing, to last for at least a fortnight.

If I had it my way, I would escape and race the wind on Vhagar. But mother’s orders were a bittersweet curse. We were to be on our best behavior, a euphemism for me babysitting my nuisance of a brother, to ensure he does not imbibe every wine cask in the keep, and to hearten my sweet sister who always grew gauche in social gatherings. 

One could hardly fathom I was the youngest.

But the chief of my worries was Aegon. He already had an inclination of getting unreasonable drunk on a plain day. I shuddered to think of the lengths he might go to in tribute to his own nuptials.

Unease filled my gut.

But it wasn’t the vigil of my siblings that rendered me apprehensive.

As I drew close enough that I could make out the banners, I realized that these were no ordinary trading ships. In fact, these weren’t traders at all. I tugged at the reins and Vhagar gathered air beneath her leather and sprung up high, casting her mighty shadow atop the vessels. 

Memories consumed me like a bad aftertaste. The sigil-emblazoned sails draped across the masts below needed no introduction. The seahorse and the three-headed black dragon caught the wind. 

It could only mean one thing…

The thought got knocked right out of me as a bone-jarring impact to Vhagar’s thorax threw me off my saddle. Her earsplitting roar resounded across the blackwater, as I tumbled down her back. Instinctively, I snagged my wrist through a loop in her saddle ropes, dangling precariously until she steadied herself. I hauled myself back up, heart hammering in my chest, adrenaline pouring into my bloodstream. I scouted the skies for an attacker in a glassy bewilderment, growing acrimoniously aware of my disability. But the firmament was still and empty. 

What in the Seven Hells?

Another blow. It knocked me aslant, and I felt fury consuming me like poison. Gritting my teeth, I gripped the saddle horn and twisted the reins twice ‘round my forearm, and perceived every muscle of Vhagar’s back contracting beneath me, waiting to charge. 

Who would dare challenge me?

A flicker of movement caught my eye. A shape, shrouded beneath Vhagar’s wing membranes, was soaring alongside us. And when I turned to look, my eye met a stranger, masked and cloaked, stalking us on a dragon as black and swift as a raven. But the beast was miniscule in relation, just the age to breathe fire, and yet had nearly forced me to meet the gods. 

Humiliation morphed into a blinding rage that seethed through my veins and marred my vision with a red mist. “Ossēnagon, Vhagar!” Kill. I growled, and steered her toward the trespasser. But the figure crouched down in their saddle, and their dragon dove towards the city. 

Fucking craven.

We went after them. Their descent was swift and inaudible, while mine was slow and thunderous like a moving mountain. The pale orange rooftops of King’s Landing, bleached from the summer’s scorching sun, spread out like a vast rust beneath our darkening shadows. I pursued them to the Hill of Rhaenys, where we landed opposite each other outside the crypts of the dragonpit. 

Dismounting, I started towards them, each step a measured threat. The steel of my dagger sang its lethal warning as I drew it from my scabbard. But the stranger stood their ground, defiance flickering in their shadowed form. My anger, already a simmering cauldron, boiled over. I closed the distance between up, a growl ripping from my throat, raw and primal.

“You!” The word barely a breath before my blade bit their throat. A desperate struggle ensued, but my palm collared the nape of their neck, locking them to the steel. A Kingsguard’s alarming exclaims sounded in the distance, but the words faded underwater. 

“The Stranger requests an audience.” The contiguity drowned my voice into a whisper. I took pleasure in that I towered over them, and felt their hot, humid breath against me, hitching beneath the sharp edge.

“My prince!” Ser Harrold Westerling, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, came running towards us. His voice, booming like thunder, always sufficed in snapping the whole court to attention. But it wasn’t his timber which stirred me this time. “Let her go!” 

His words carried me out of my raging inferno.

Her?

I blinked through my apprehension and scavenged the stranger’s frame with my eye, as if I’d awoken from a dream and seen them for the first time. A tug, a rustle, and their hood fell back and settled around their shoulders. 

A wave of ice ran down my spine. 

It was like seeing a ghost. The protagonist of all my nightmares coming alive, ready to haunt me. 

Aylana Velaryon.

Her eyes, the color of sunlit amber flicked with gold, held mine with an unsettling intensity. She seemed to see right through me, demanding answers I could not provide. Then, a knowing smile played on her lips.

“Skoros iksos pirta, kepus?” What’s wrong, uncle? A sardonic edge laced her voice. “Gaomagon ao daor gīmigon issa?” Do you not remember me?

The words hit me like a physical blow. I swallowed, stunned by her High Valyrian.

For a moment, I believe I stood petrified, unable to tear my gaze from her, unable to utter a word.

A torrent of questions, accusations, apologies – years of unspoken turmoil – churned within me. But now, with her life literally in my hands, the words deserted me. My tongue, usually an agile weapon, felt like lead. This was the person who had haunted my every waking and sleeping thought for years, and all I could manage was a stunned silence. Perhaps my countenance spoke volumes where my voice failed.

She echoed the girl I remembered, but time had woven its changes. I had to take it all in. Her voice, saccharine and laced with a hint of mockery, was a stark contrast to the playful child I held in memory. Her once youthful features had sharpened, cheekbones higher, lips fuller. Then, my gaze, fell upon the one jarring element – a crimson scar that snaked across her left eyebrow, expressing a raw pink sheen beneath a shell of transparent skin. Years had passed, yet the wound looked fresh.

The accident.

My jaw tightened as venom seethed through my veins.

I could still see her crumpled, lifeless form in the dirt, her skull cracked open, every time I closed my eye.

And I was holding the bloody rock.

Shame coiled in my gut like a suffocating weight. I could not bear to look at her.

“Some things never change,” she said facetiously. “Don’t you agree, uncle?”

Shit.

I was still holding my knife to her throat. I recoiled with such force that the effort pushed her back as well. A bright seam of red welled up at the lip where my blade had kissed her and painted the length of her neck like dark fruit. 

I reviled myself. I had tried to kill her. Again. 

But she just smiled, a dimple flashing in her cheek. As if we were still kids and she had made a humorous jest.

I realized I had been holding my breath when a gasp escaped my lips and air rushed back into my lungs. The silence stretched on, thick and heavy.

“Aylana.” I spoke her name derisively without intending to, as I sheathed the knife at my waist where my gaze lingered a moment, dreading to meet hers. 

My stomach turned. I never used to call her that. It sounded so formal and distant on my tongue, just like ‘uncle’ on hers. But that’s what we were to each other now - our friendship no more than a distant memory. I no longer assumed myself worthy of her alias. I had lost that privilege. Just as I had lost my friend. 

The weight of the past pressed down on me, suffocating.

Agitation infiltrated my mind and my whole disposition must have come off as reticent and hostile. I watched her pull her gloves off finger by finger and release the clasp of her cloak. There was an attitude in her movements and a poise in her posture. Beneath she was dressed in sable flying leathers that clung tightly to her body. 

I averted my gaze. 

Frustration clawed at my chest, and whatever other feeling it was that made my mouth dry and my palms clammy. 

“You look well, nuncle,” she said. 

My eye met hers and I noted them briefly flicker across my eyepatch. Her scrutiny made the leather singe my skin with awareness. Growing diffident, I looked away. 

“Hmmph,” I said, my favorite expression of disdain. 

I knew what she was implying. That if I had only listened to her that night, instead of acting like an arrogant scoundrel, I wouldn’t be looking like a eunuch with one eye at present.

And she was right in mocking me. If her insults were the currency for my betrayal, I would gladly become a spendthrift.

My breathing shallowed as I gazed at the damage I’d caused. I had to get out of there. 

“I hope we did not frighten you earlier,” she said, interrupting my escape. “I only thought I might test the mettle of the largest dragon in the world. She truly is remarkable. A fair exchange, to be sure.” 

I turned to look at her, and I didn’t know what I must’ve looked like, because the playful smile that had been dancing between her lips our entire encounter, vanished. There it is, I thought. The realization. The Aemond you knew is gone. This is the monster you forged.

“Ser Harrold,” I said. “Escort the princess to the Red Keep. And make sure she does not test the mettle of anyone else in the city.”

“Certainly, my prince,” said Ser Harrold, the Lord Commander who was the very first person to see my face after the loss of my eye. This fact made him remarkably significant somehow.

I mounted Vhagar and took to the sky, watching Aylana and Nymax blur into mere specks on a canvas. 

This would be a celebration I was sure to remember…

More chapters

[fancymuffinparty]

SnK modern au writing prompts/fic ideas...

...that I may or may never get to but if someone else wants to use these for inspo please do and then let me read it :')

Eren and Porco Pizza Shop AU 🍕 They're coworkers who absolutely hate each other's guts and constantly clap back at one another and talk shit throughout the duration of their shifts lmao. But eventually, over time, they develop camaraderie because their personalities are actually pretty similar, they like the same music, and they both hate their boss (can be Levi or Zeke). Slow burn enemies to friends with all sorts of shenanigans. (Bonus: they fight over Pieck, who's a regular at the shop)

Zeke x Frieda, hookup/fake dating au. They initially start hooking up to piss off their dads, Grisha and Rod, who hate each other. But then oops, they catch feels. "We're only doing this to piss off my dad." "Wait... I thought we were doing this to piss off my dad??"

ANY SURFING AU OF ANY KIND!!! 🏄‍♂️🏄‍♀️ I feel like Ymir would best fit this au tho. Ymir's a pro surfer and kicks ass. Or; the Warriors take surfing lessons. Annie and Pieck get it right the first try. Porco and Marcel need more practice. Bertolt struggles but gets it eventually. Reiner is too beefy to balance all that muscle lmao.

Eren and Historia ballroom competition. (I have this planned for Silhouettes!)

Dance competition. Can be any pairs, shippy or non-ship. But I like ere/hisu for this one. Along with Porco paired with Pieck. Bertolt and Ymir partner up because they both got rhythm 🎶 Reiner is one of the best dancers (such grace) and he opts for Annie. Mikasa and Armin pair up. Levi and Zeke hate each other but they dance so well together lol. Go wild with this one!

World War II AU. You know that one VJ Day Kiss in Times Square photo that's famous? Yeah that. Imagine your otp.

Gym drama AU: Porco and Pieck work out at the same gym as Eren and Mikasa. (Couples gotta stay fit together ayyy) One fateful day, Eren takes a break between sets and heads to the water fountain, where he thinks Mikasa is taking a sip. All he sees is her black hair pulled back from behind and he's like 'damn is she shorter somehow?' but thinks nothing of it (he's a little loopy from his intense workout) and smacks her on the ass. BUT it's Pieck! Mistaken identity oops! Pieck jolts up and turns around, utterly shocked and Porco hurries over there like 'WTF! Hands off my girl!' Then Mikasa emerges and is like 'Eren, what are you doing???' But Eren, cornered, doubles down despite being in the wrong and is like 'so what? who's gonna stop me?? Fight me!' ^^^this au also works if you replace Eren with Jean, but I feel like Jean would apologize profusely, whereas Eren and Porco would immediately start brawling lmao

Any Zeke x Lara or Zeke x Frieda AU tbh. These ships need more love and are so aesthetically pleasing.

Top Gun AU! Or Air Force, Navy Pilots AU! I prefer the warriors for this one. Reiner as a squad leader. Porco is Pieck's wingman. Etc...

Spy/Assassin AU. Pieck is tasked with taking Eren out but falls in love with him instead. They embark on an epic romantic adventure.

'80s AU!

'90s AU! Anyway, here's Wonderwall!🎶

Kingsman AU: I like Porco and/or Eren for this one.

Bachelorette party AU! Ooohh I have too many ideas for this one!

Birthing class AU. Eren and Historia take a class, accompanied by Zeke and Frieda (the jaeger bros and the reiss sisters ayyyy). I like the idea of porco/pieck taking this class too, and Pieck is just a major goofball throughout the whole thing.

Annie teaches a martial arts class. That's a versatile one. But I was flirting with mik/annie for this one ~~~~

Summer vacation AU: Pieck/Porco plan a couple's getaway, but then Marcel invites himself along, and that means Reiner is going, and then Bert and Annie crash the vacay too.

Dating game show AU: Pieck is a contestant, and her suitors are Porco, Bertolt, Eren, Zeke, and let's throw Levi in there for the lols. Okay, that's a lot. If I think of anything else, I may expand on it. Obviously, I've plugged my own ships in here but feel free to mix it up however you like! Maybe I'll do a holiday edition lol 'tis the season!⛄

[planetsandthefates]

fave reputation lyrics? (for it's anniversary)?

omg she's seven (7) years old ?!??!?! i feel so old lmao

i'll choose my favorite lyric(s) from my favorite songs if that's okay :)

ready for it...?

Knew I was a robber first time that he saw me Stealing hearts and running off and never sayin' sorry

i did something bad

They're burning all the witches, even if you aren't one They got their pitchforks and proof, their receipts and reasons

don't blame me

And, baby, for you I would fall from grace Just to touch your face If you walk away I'd beg you on my knees to stay

look what you made me do

The world moves on, another day, another drama, drama But not for me, not for me, all I think about is karma

getaway car

"X" marks the spot, where we fell apart He poisoned the well, I was lying to myself

king of my heart

Is this the end of all the endings? My broken bones are mending

dancing with our hands tied

I'd kiss you as the lights went out Swaying as the room burned down I'd hold you as the water rushes in If I could dance with you again

+bonus: I, I loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us

call it what you want:

Starry eyes sparking up my darkest night

[depressedbagpipe]

Silver (Prince Caspian x female!reader)

Chapter IX - Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen

Words: 3652 Warnings: just very bad writing of feelings, overall. other than that you're good. A/N: hey ;) i completely made up this chapter, because i wanted to write something of my own without following a script for once. let me know what you think of it 💜 and thank you once more for your support. also the title is conveniently fitting lol

Series Masterlist Previous chapter <> Next chapter

Chapter IX - Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen

I knew I was dreaming way before Caspian’s lips softly rested on mine. I was standing on the ruins of Cair Paravel, wearing my school uniform. The Pevensies were nowhere to be found, but it almost didn’t matter. Somehow, I knew this wasn’t about them. 

Soft steps on the overgrown grass made me turn around, finding Caspian’s dazzling eyes as he approached me. I turned back, staring at the calm waters before me, suddenly feeling his chest against my back and his arms enveloping me, protective and loving. Caspian rested his chin on my head, kissing it softly as I rested my hands on his, drawing small circles. 

His heart was peaceful, quiet, just like the rest of the world. My lips spread in a lazy grin, letting the breeze and contempt wash over my body and mind, finally finding peace after so many restless nights. 

“I wish we could stay like this, forever,” Caspian spoke softly. 

I nodded, pushing him closer to me.

A stronger wind started to pick up, sending our loose clothes flailing around us. The sun that had been lighting everything with warmth was suddenly gone, dark clouds filling the sky in a matter of seconds. The sea raged below, crashing into the rocks with such a forceful fury that I took a couple of steps back, out of surprise.

The air got colder, making me shiver as it prickled the skin on my legs. The spell was broken almost immediately. I turned around to face Caspian, who was dressed like the first time I had ever seen him. He wore no armor or swords, and his face was not that of a child, but rather a young king. He looked at me with such endearment that I knew it couldn’t be real.

“I have to go,” I said, as the wind got louder around us.

Caspian frowned at me, gripping my hands tightly. “What do you mean?”

I had to pin down the skirt of my uniform to prevent it from showing anything.

“Cas, I don’t belong here,” my heart broke with every word. “This isn’t my world.”

He shook his head at me. “No, no, but we can talk to Aslan, we can…” he was desperate, pulling me to him as I tried to walk away.

“There’s nothing to be done, Caspian,” hot tears fell from my eyes.

“I can’t let you go just like that,” he was crying too, his grip almost too hot, or too cold, burning into my skin.

“Please,” I pleaded, my voice barely a whisper.

Before I could say anything, Caspian took a step forward and kissed me. All logic went off the window as he grabbed me by my waist, keeping me close to him, our lips moving in a graceful dance to the tune of our own melody. For a few seconds, time seemed to stop. It was only us in the entire universe.

Yet the world around me slowly faded until I was standing alone in the dark, the ghost of Caspian’s kiss still lingering on my lips and his grip on my waist. My body grew heavier as if something invisible pushed me to the ground, but I was too heartbroken to fight it. I let it move me around like a falling leaf until I too became darkness.

I woke up with a start. My forehead was drenched in sweat, and shivers ran down every limb. The silk night robes that had been gifted to me stuck to my body, as I desperately tried to calm my racing heart.

Winter stood by the feet of the bed, her ears listening, yet her eyes were closed, sleeping despite the early morning rays already illuminating most of the room. I threw the covers off my body, the coldness of the stone floor immediately clinging to my bare feet as I stood up. I washed my face on a nearby basin filled with water, taking a quick look at my reflection in the mirror that hung above it. My eyes were wide, with dark circles under them, and dry stains on my cheeks that I quickly washed away as the sun slowly made its appearance over the Telmarine castle.

I stood on the balcony overlooking the kingdom, the first villagers waking up at the sound of their roosters, starting their day. The castle was dormant on the inside, not a single sound heard from the other side of the wooden door. I looked to the horizon, the sight both familiar and unrecognizable at the same time.

Caspian had returned to Telmar, welcomed with open arms by his people. He brought us with him, too, giving us all our own quarters, and making sure every Narnian out there felt welcome in his home. His coronation had been beautiful, Narnians and Telmarines alike cheering for their new ruler. We had spent the past weeks helping Caspian become the king he was meant to be. Peter and he had become fast friends after that, Caspian turning into his sort of protegée as Peter taught him everything he knew about ruling after becoming High King. Edmund and I would often chime in during their war and council discussions, guiding him over all the new decisions he had to make as the new king of Narnia. 

Peace reigned over the land, finally, yet I had become restless. Caspian and I had grown closer, often seeking each other’s advice on even the simplest of matters. Many nights had been spent at the library or his professor’s office, reading everything ever written about Narnia, recounting our tales, our adventures, our battles. During the day we trained together, and rode around Telmar and well into the Narnian territory. No wars had to be fought, and for once, I wasn’t a soldier. 

A couple of balls were held, too, Caspian taking Susan’s advice and inviting all the neighboring kingdoms. A new era of peace and prosperity loomed in the air, and with every passing day, I knew our time in Narnia was coming to an end. Caspian was managing on his own, not needing the Kings and Queens of Old anymore for guidance. The more I spoke with him, the less of the young naive prince I saw. 

It was a couple of nights ago that the nightmares started. All of them began the same way, somehow in Caspian’s arms, only to be reminded that I couldn’t stay. And every time my heart broke a little more. I feared soon there wouldn’t be any heart left to break.

I still thought about it during that night’s ball over Archenland’s peace treaties, signed only a few hours prior. I stood once again over the big balcony at the ballroom, an uninviting colder breeze allowing me to enjoy some peaceful moments away from the dancing couples inside.

“It really is beautiful out here,” Susan’s gentle voice startled me from my thoughts. She stood next to me, also gazing at the stars. “It’s no Cair Paravel, though,” she joked.

I snorted. “It wouldn’t be fair to compare the two. You guys are four, Caspian’s just one,” I answered, keeping the light tone over us.

“I always found it weird, you know. Four of us. But I see Caspian’s managing well,” she replied, a gentle smile on her plump lips.

I looked at her slightly, my jaw unconsciously tensing at her words. I made no reply, for I was too busy letting my bitterness get the best of me. 

“I know he will be a good king,” I answered at last. “He had the best teachers, after all,” I complimented her, forcing myself to push down any sourness. Susan and I had been best friends for years, after all.

It was her turn to snort. “Please, speak for yourself. I barely did anything,” she replied. “He’s been more focused on you than any of us combined.”

I blushed at her words, for they were true. “Well, when all of this is over, it won’t matter,” I sighed. 

Susan frowned at my words, likely knowing what was going on in my head. I hadn’t told anyone about the nightmares, and my feelings for Caspian, but Susan could always read me like an open book.

“Look,” she took my hand, “I know you love him. And I happen to know he loves you too,” I widened my eyes at her. “Oh, come on, don’t tell me you don’t know!” she laughed, but I remained on the spot, unmoving.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Su,” I told her. The butterflies in my stomach seemed wilder than ever, but I kept forcing them to stop. I simply couldn’t.

“You clearly are made for each other. Both of you are two stupidly pining after the other to notice your feelings are mutual,” she smirked at me, but not with malice.

“Listen, even if I did, I know our time here’s ending soon,” I grabbed her by her shoulders, in an attempt to shut her up. “The last thing I need right now is to get my hopes up over a guy I barely know that flirts with the first woman to cross his path,” I almost spat.

Susan winced, not from my tight grip, but because of my words. I felt bad immediately. “I’m really sorry about that,” she put her hands on mine, her warmth sending goosebumps up my arm. “I’m not going to lie, Caspian is attractive and kind, and gentle. But as soon as I saw the way you looked at each other I knew I couldn’t do anything. I now know it is not my destiny to be with him. But yours is,” she explained. My cheeks felt hot at her words.

“I don’t think it is my destiny either,” I shook my head, blinking rapidly to stop the tears that were slowly forming in my eyes. “I’ve been having these dreams… nightmares, really,” I took a deep breath under Susan’s concentrated gaze. “It’s always Caspian and me. And every time I have to go. We don’t belong here anymore, Su, and I don’t want to risk getting my heart broken for the rest of my life over a love that can’t be,” a single tear fell down my face.

“I really can’t tell you what to do,” Susan spoke softly, brushing the tear off, “and I know how painful it is to love somebody and have to let go. I will love and support you regardless. And so will Caspian,” she squeezed my hands before returning to the ball. She stopped at the entrance, giving me one last look. “If it makes you feel any better, he never flirted back.”

I stood there for a few minutes, replaying every single conversation, touch, and look, shared by Caspian and me during these weeks. I felt a weight lift off my shoulders after my conversation with Susan, but as my eyes found Caspian, smiling and laughing with Edmund and a few of his council members, I felt like an outsider once again.

Caspian caught my eyes and immediately frowned. I tried to slip away, unnoticed, but he was quicker, grabbing me by my arm as soon as I stepped into the hall.

“Hey, is everything alright?” he asked, concerned.

I shook my head, mainly so my hair would cover my red eyes. “Yeah, why do you ask?” I grinned at him, trying to appear convincing enough.

“You don’t look okay,” he grabbed my hand, his touch sending my heart into a frenzy. “Did something happen?”

“No, no, I’m fine. I just… I need some air, you know. I’m not used to the whole ballroom dancing thing,” I laughed nervously, desperately hoping for Caspian to let me go.

He shook his head at me. “I know something’s wrong. You’ve been ignoring me these past few days,” his eyes were almost glossy. “Did I do something?” 

I mentally kicked myself at his words, another weight landing on my shoulders, only this time, it clung to my whole chest, drilling a hole into my heart. “No, Caspian, you didn’t do anything. I just… I don’t know, I guess I haven’t felt good,” I tried to brush it off, but Caspian wasn’t letting my hand go. I almost relished in that.

“Why didn’t you tell me? You know you can always come to me for anything. Maybe we can talk to Dr. Cornellius, maybe he can help you…” I cut him off before he could continue.

“Caspian, it’s fine. I’m not sick,” I reassured him, noticing his frown disappear slightly. “I guess, now that the war’s over… I’m feeling… weird?” I tried to explain, also knowing I wasn’t fully lying. “Like, I don’t have a purpose here anymore?”

“This is your home too,” his thumb stroked my hand.

“It used to.” 

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Everything is different now. Our home was here, centuries ago. And we eventually will have to go back to our own world,” I closed my eyes, feeling my heart aching once again as I recited the same words I had been saying to Caspian in my dreams, only this time, I was wide awake. “I don’t belong here anymore.”

With a soft smile, I squeezed Caspian’s hand and dropped it. He was too stunned to move, and I used the opportunity to turn around and head toward my room. The dress I was wearing flowed gracefully with every step, and despite its beauty, I couldn’t help but feel even more of a stranger. I was almost willing for Aslan to pull me out of Narnia and back to the train station, just waiting until everything was over and I could finally and painfully forget about Caspian if only to not suffer anymore about a love that couldn’t be.  

I reached my quarters and immediately took the dress off, not without difficulty. Winter was laying on my bed, watching me carefully, but as soon as I reached for my riding clothes she stood up and walked by my side, once again silently leaving the castle into the gardens surrounding it. Music and laughter could still be heard from the ball on the other side of the castle, inviting to join anybody who could hear, but I kept running in the opposite direction. I got on top of Winter and she swiftly ran to the woods, heading to Aslan’s How, not a word needed between the two. 

Aslan came back to Telmar the next morning, his presence almost illuminating the already warm-tinted stone walls of the Telmarine castle. The Pevensies and I shared a look, knowing we were all spending our last hours in Narnia. Even Caspian looked disheartened, despite the great respect he felt for the lion.

Preparations started immediately. The whole castle was to alert the Telmarine and Narnian villagers to gather at the town’s main square, and the rest of us were left to our own devices. From my balcony, I saw Aslan speaking with Peter and Susan, both of which had somber looks on their usually cheerful faces. I frowned at the sight, wondering what they could be possibly talking about. I saw Caspian exit one of the doors into the courtyard, briefly exchanging a few words with them, and just as I was about to leave the room, a few soft knocks on my door interrupted my actions.

Lucy’s head timidly appeared from the crack of the open door, smiling at me. “May I come in?” 

I grinned at her, motioning her in with my head. “You know you’re always invited,” she smiled as she crossed the door behind her and sat on my bed, stroking Winter on the head as she softly licked her hand in appreciation. 

“So…” she sighed, “Aslan’s here. Any idea why?” she asked with nervousness.

I exhaled, sitting next to her and taking her other hand in mine. “I think so,” I answered.

Lucy nodded at me, her expression sad. I hated seeing her like this. I took her in my arms, sending all the love I could muster into the hug. “I don’t wanna go back,” she said, her voice muzzled by my arm.

“I don’t wanna go either,” I replied, sighing deeply.

“We could riot,” Edmund’s voice made us turn our heads to the door where he stood, a grin on his face.

“Sure, let’s hide from Aslan, he definitely wouldn’t find us,” I joked as I motioned him to us. 

Edmund took large strides and dropped onto my bed, joining in the hug. Even Winter put her head on his leg.

Tears prickled my eyes, wishing we could all stay like this forever. 

“Alright, all of you, out, you need to get ready for Aslan’s audience,” Peter was now at the door, staring at us with a fond smile. I brushed the tears off my cheeks as Lucy and Edmund left, and Peter softly closed the door behind him as he made his way inside.

“We need to talk,” his expression was firm, his eyes red around the corners. 

“What’s wrong?” I stood up at his words, fearing whatever came next.

Peter sighed, his shoulders dropping. “Susan and I aren’t coming back.”

Something in me broke. “What do you mean, Pete?” my voice trembled.

“We spoke with Aslan. We learned our lesson. We won’t come back to Narnia,” his eyes filled with tears.

I stood frozen on the spot, registering his words. “But… that’s not possible…” I stammered, my head hurting from all the thoughts whirling inside. “So what? We leave and then what?” I paced around, looking anywhere but him. 

Although the prospect of leaving was imminent, I still felt the sadness crippling my lungs.

“That’s what we need to talk about,” Peter suddenly stood before me, gripping my shoulders, grounding me. “I talked to my parents before coming here. They said they found a nice house in America where we could stay. You, Su, and I will be finishing school soon, and my mom already talked to my uncles so Ed and Lu will stay with them. We have a cousin their age, too. I asked my mom if you could come with us, but…” I widened my eyes at his statement. 

I knew my situation was delicate, with both my parents dead and no relatives nearby. “I would be on my own,” I concluded. Tears fell freely off my cheeks, matching Peter, as I realized what my life was about to become without the Pevensies by my side. 

“I even tried convincing my aunt, but she already doesn’t like the idea of looking after three kids,” he was almost begging at this point. 

I looked at Peter one last time, knowing my path wasn’t next to his anymore. I grabbed his face before hugging him tightly, the unspoken goodbye between us heavy in the air.

With a pat on his back, we took a step back, gazing into each other’s eyes, relishing in our last moment together in Narnia. He left the room with a nod of his head, my heart beating fast as I stared at his retreating figure. 

The sun shone brightly on the castle. Everybody was still inside, getting ready in their finest robes, yet I stepped into the courtyard, trying to escape the anxious servants who ran around with a thousand chores in their heads. Winter stood next to me, always protectively, and we both halted as Aslan stood in the middle, almost impatiently.

“At last, young one,” he spoke calmly. “I feared you had gotten lost,” he didn’t move from his place, rather urging me forward to him.

I kneeled before him. “I truly think I am,” I answered, my head lowered in both respect and shame.

“One’s never truly lost. We are where we need to be at every moment, even if we don’t know it yet,” Aslan said.

I raised my head at him, standing straight before him. “Thank you again for Winter,” I said, stroking her head.

“What belongs to you will always find you,” he replied with a smile on his face. “But that’s not the reason you’re here now, is it?”

I almost choked on my words, for I didn’t know where to start. “I just… I don’t know what to do, Aslan,” I looked around, fearing anybody could hear. “I love him,” I shrugged my shoulders, “but I know that it won’t work.”

“Who’s to say it wouldn’t?” I almost laughed at him.

“We come from different worlds. And I just know our time here’s coming to an end,” I answered sadly. “You said there’s a lot more in store for me, but where? I don’t see it.”

“Young one, we don’t always get the exact answers we hope for,” Aslan spoke, his voice calm and gracious. “You will need to find your path on your own.”

“What if I fail?” I whispered.

“You’ve failed before.”

I exhaled heavily. “Yeah, and I almost died.”

“I told you it isn’t your time yet. Nor it won’t be for a long time,” Aslan’s words made me sharply turn my head to him.

My lips trembled, the picture slowly becoming more visible even though it was still blurry. “Then, what should I do? I have no life waiting for me on the other side.”

Aslan’s big paw patted my back comfortingly. “Trust and accept that there’s somebody out there willing to love you as much as you love them. Understand that great things will come your way and it doesn’t matter in which world you stay. Once you do, everything will fall into place,” he spoke wisely. 

My hands trembled at his words, carefully trying to analyze their meaning. For Aslan was giving me an alternative I didn’t even know existed, and now it was my choice to create my own path. 

“I think… I want to stay.”

Aslan nodded at me. “Then you shall.”

Next chapter

[bangtansmauyeondan]

MIDNIGHT’S MINUET | Part 25 — Finale (1 of 2): City Lights

Pairing: Yoongi x Fem Reader

Genre: Strangers to Enemies to Friends to ???, social media au, chef au, musician au, slow burn, fluff, implied smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Summary: While gallivanting around the world pursuing his love for music and architecture, Yoongi was forced to come back home when Seokjin, his older brother, asked him for help to run the family business. Having been born with a silver spoon, Yoongi longed for a bit of normalcy and independence; hence, agreeing with Seokjin’s request didn’t come without any of his own conditions— first, he’s going to oversee the hotel’s kitchen; second, he’s gonna let him live a normal life— no luxury cars, no high-rise building apartment, no special treatment. Yoongi was pleased that everything seemed to be going well with his return… until he met you, the roadblock to everything his brother has agreed to.

SERIES TAGLIST: @sugakookies0613 @pinkseokchim @superrmins @belladaises @potatoandfries @cherrybubblesandvodka @sope-and-shine @juju-227592

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @highly-functioning-mitochondria @persphonesorchid @thatbangtanjagiya @taestefully-in-luv @btsstan12 @bts-reveries @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @pamzn @wrmnssoul @ygbubs @halesandy @jayhope88

A/N - So sorry it took so long! These two have a lot to sort out so I didn’t wanna cram everything in one chapter. Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

•••••••••••••

Jimin hops up and sits down on the ledge that separates him from a potential twelve-storey fall. “You promised me you’re telling me everything?” he pouts at you, his voice muffled against the cold wind on the rooftop and the sound of the cars and the traffic wheezing by below.

“Maybe I lied,” you bite your lower lip, pulling your cardigan tighter around you. “Maybe I just wanted to see my brother.”

“Now THAT is a lie,” Jimin scoffs. “I was genuinely worried about you earlier, I thought you’re gonna cry.”

“What would you have done if I cried?”

“I’m gonna end the person who made you cry,” he pulls the sleeves of his pullover up to his elbows. “Nobody messes with the Parks!”

You can’t help the small smile that graced your lips as you look fondly at your brother. He’s no longer the little boy who used to follow you around everywhere and interrogated the hell out of all the boys that would show even the smallest of interest. In fact he’s grown quite taller than you and built like that, he could no doubt knock the living daylights out of anyone that would try to cross you. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that he’s your little brother– there’s absolutely nothing little about him anymore, except maybe his pinky fingers, but you’re not gonna tell him that.

“You know you can trust me, right?” Jimin hops off the ledge and leans closer to you. “Right?” He squints inches away from your face. You burst into a giggle and push his face away gently with your palm. “Okay, stay here. I’m gonna get us some drinks and when I return, you’re gonna tell me everything, right?”

“Okay, Jimin… Whatever you say…”

Jimin sprints down the concrete stairs from the rooftop and heads back into his apartment to retrieve two bottles of beer from the fridge. He pops them open and wedges a slice of lemon through each bottle neck before heading back out. He checks his phone one more time to see the confirmation message that he’s been waiting for. A simple “I’m here…’ prompts him to make a detour and instead of going straight back up to the rooftop, he rings his doorman’s intercom, signaling them to let Yoongi in.

—

One hour ago…

Yoongi shakes off the excess water from his hair with a fluffy towel as he steps out of his bathroom, coming face to face with Namjoon who’s already tucking into something that smells like warm orange and cinnamon. “Are you eating Christmas?” he jokes as he picks up the box emblazoned with the words ‘Silver Spoon’ across the top from the floor, making his eyebrows furrow.

“This is so good, I didn’t know they had this,” Namjoon says mid-chew, crumbs of the citrus galette crust gracing the corner of his lips. “Did you order this via Uber Eats

“I didn’t order any dessert…” his gaze momentarily flies to Jelena, “Didn’t you bring this?”

“No, it was delivered by your friend. She said you ordered it.”

An unpleasant feeling starts to settle on Yoongi’s stomach. “Friend who?” He can feel his hair sticking to the back of his neck, and he’s not sure if it’s because of the water post-shower or he’s legitimately breaking into a sweat, praying that Jelena is not talking about who he thinks ‘she’ is.

“You know,” Jelena blinks back at him like he has lost his memory. “Your friend, the lady chef you introduced me to at the hotel.” She turns to Namjoon, “What’s her name again, Joon?”

“Chef Park…” Namjoon answers nonchalantly while stabbing a piece of sticky grapefruit. “Jiminie’s sister.”

“Shit,” Yoongi’s heart dropped to his stomach. “Yn was here?”

“Yeah…” Jelena nods.

“Like… just now? And she… Did she see you?”

“I opened the door, yes.” Jelena now looks over at Namjoon and back at Yoongi, clearly confused. Namjoon shrugs back at her equally as confused. “What’s wrong? Are you guys…?”

“Yes, Jelena. We are,” he answers firmly as he storms out of his apartment to go over to yours. Yoongi rings the bell and knocks on the door a few times. “Yn? Are you home?” No answer. By the time he turns around, Namjoon and Jelena are already out in the hall too, trying to make sense of what’s happening.

“Man, what’s going on? Why are you panicking?” Namjoon asks worriedly.

Yoongi runs his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath, keeping his emotions at bay. “This could be a huge misunderstanding, I already know it,” he starts. “She and I have something, okay? I can’t put a finger on what exactly it is, but I just… I like her, okay? So much,” he glances at Jelena. “She knew you used to like me.” Jelena winced. “We spent the weekend at my parents’ beach house, and today has been so busy that we didn’t get a chance to interact at work at all. Then all of a sudden, she’s turning up at my doorstep, seeing you and I just–”

“Hey. it’s okay…” Jelena tries to soothe him. “Is there anything I can do to help? Should I call her?”

As if on cue, Yoongi’s phone starts ringing and he marches past the couple as he enters his apartment again to retrieve the phone on the coffee table. It’s Jimin calling, and Yoongi is not wasting another minute.

“Hey… is your sister with you?” He greets Jimin.

“Hyung…” Jimin sighs on the other end of the line. “She’s on her way to my apartment right now, and I wanna give you the benefit of the doubt. Tell me everything, then come down here and get her.”

——

Jimin’s apartment building has a spacious rooftop, with a well-maintained green house that the staff takes care of, and a few garden benches scattered around. It’s a shame that since most of the tenants are at the peak of their careers, it’s very rare that you find people up there just doing nothing. You sit back and relax on one of the benches, the backrest comfortable enough that you find yourself leaning all the way back, resting your head too as you look up at the bluish gray sky. No stars peeking out tonight and it doesn’t take an expert to tell that it might rain throughout the night. You take a deep breath, mind drifting back in the last 48 hours and wondering where you stand.

Getting to know Yoongi led you to discover something about yourself too. Now in your late 20s, you would think you pretty much have it together already. You’re independent, established, and content with what you currently have— relationships included. You were never looking for anything. Sure, you were attracted to Jungkook at one point, you couldn’t help it, you have eyes and the man is an eye-candy. But would you really have given up the friendship you both have nurtured over the years and taken a risk on a potential relationship? No. But with Yoongi, it’s like stepping into a different but familiar territory. It’s exciting, it makes your heart race, it’s almost like high school all over again when you had your first kiss. Ah, first kiss. You unconsciously touch your lips where Yoongi’s had been 48 hours ago. You take a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions from bubbling up again. Your mind drifts to that beautiful face that you came face to face with earlier at his apartment, wanting to kick yourself for being stupid. Why did you let Yoongi break down your wall? Why did you let Yoongi kiss you? Why did you let him touch you? You straighten yourself up on the bench when you hear the faint footsteps getting closer. Right, you promised to tell your brother everything.

Yoongi’s palms are damp, and he doesn’t know if it’s because of the two bottles of ice cold beer that Jimin handed him before he made his way to the rooftop, or if it’s because of his nerves suddenly going haywire as he approaches you. You look a bit shaken when he sits down next to you before handing you the beer, but you quickly pull yourself together and stare out into the city lights again. You both sit there in silence for a good minute until Yoongi clears his throat. “You met Jelena…” He started, gaze roaming all over your face, anticipating your reaction.

“I did…” you don’t look back at him.

“Yn, it’s not what you think…” he says, voice wavering a little bit.

“What do I think, Yoongi?” You turn to him, eyes glistening with fresh tears that are about to fall. Yoongi’s heart clenched in his chest. You look beautiful, the city lights reflecting in your eyes. He wants nothing more than to reach out and run his thumb across your cheek. He wants to kiss you again, over and over.

“Jelena and I— there’s nothing going on between us.”

[To be continued...]

•••

[strwberri-milk]

Passing Hands: Chapter 8 - The Layers of You

Bridgerton!AU || Diluc x Fem!Reader || Drama, Falling in Love, Slow Burn || 3251 words

a/n - i swear im a kaeya simp tumblr doesnt look like it but im In Love with him also my coworker/friend deadass reflexively choked me when we were figuring out breaks and i think its the funniest thing ever bc she felt so bad and it wasnt hard but it was so funny uraefioeardf

You spend another morning entertaining a number of prospective suitors, all tired out by the time their numbers begin to cease. Now you’re sat in the middle of the drawing room, relaxing and having your first biscuit by yourself for the day. You relish in the privacy of your drawing room, having asked the staff to stand outside of the doors instead of inside. 

As you sit by yourself, you find your mind wandering back to the conversation you were having with the Duke. It seemed that Lord Alberich was decidedly leaving him alone, giving you two ample opportunities to chat. The conversations felt shallow yet polite, most likely the result of the etiquette teachings. Still, sometimes you thought that you could feel a warmth seeping into his words, a semblance of affection from the letters in his voice. 

Despite those issues, you find yourself becoming more and  more entranced with this withdrawn side of him, wondering what more you could do in order to begin pulling apart at his intricate layers until you’re able to sit with the Duke on the same level, his smile becoming much less cold and a look that only you can see. 

Sometimes, you think you can imagine what it’d be like for him to hold you, closing your eyes and bringing yourself back to the ball where you first spoke. You can remember his strong arms as he held you to dance, flexing gently under the fabric of his clothes with each step. It’s quite scandalous to imagine such things but you cannot help it. The way he looks at you fills your being with warmth and you wish to feel him admire you with the burning scarlet in which he views the world. 

A day can only contain so much imagination and you get up with a sigh, deciding that perhaps you should finally ask one of the staff to join you on a promenade. They were quickly becoming a better way to spend time than staying inside and practising what were deemed to be lady-like pursuits that you needed to know to stay presentable. You decide that perhaps you can ask one of the staff to join you. One of the maids was beginning to warm up to you and surely it would not hurt your chances to invite her to spend an afternoon with you. 

As you’re about to call for her the doors open to reveal the Butler greeting you. 

“I see you’re about to leave My Lady. Would it be possible for you to stay for just a while longer? It seems you have a guest.” 

“I’ve entertained far too many suitors this morning and would rather spend some time with my thoughts for now. Would it be possible for him to come back another time?” you ask, already dreading more socialising with another man intent on courting. 

“Oh, I’m not here to court,” a lofty voice calls and you recoil. Lord Alberich. 

“Do not say that. I do not wish to encourage scandal upon my family’s name. I am simply here to visit.” 

He pops his head into your drawing room and grins, a woman you recognise as the Ragnvindr’s Housekeeper trailing closely after him. 

“My Lord wished to speak with you and hoped that bringing these would make it worth your while.” 

She hands off the basket to the Butler who reveals the contents, several bottles of well aged wine with Dawn Winery’s emblem placed delicately on beautiful glass. You gasp at the beauty of them, having known that Dawn Winery was the best but not understanding why until now. 

“Tis a gift from both the Duke and myself. His Grace has been experimenting with grape juice flavours but I’ve included my personal favourite wines in the mix. May I sit with you?” he explains, clearly not expecting a no. 

“I believe a rejection would be rude,” you grumble, making your true feelings clear. 

“Come now, don’t be so cold. Can’t I just visit with the only woman who’s caught my dear brother’s eye? As much as it seems we cannot stand each other, I do want things to work out. Don’t just shut me out.” 

He gives you a look reminiscent of a kicked puppy and you sigh, gesturing to a seat in the room. 

“Right, well first things first is to do something that will impress him. Diluc values accomplishments, something tangible and the result of hard work. Are you good at anything?” he asks with a raised brow. 

You sigh to yourself. Clearly he thought you needed to become better for his brother, deciding to use his ridiculous amount of free time to show up on your door. The Lord didn’t seem to mind his rudeness, making himself at home as he takes a biscuit and crossed his legs at the knee. He feels your stare and only grins cockily in response, giving you his whole attention while he waits for a reply. 

“That is quite a rude way to ask such a question!” you huff, sitting down across from him and crossing your arms. 

“But if you must know, I take care of myself. I’ve been working since I was young and even pay for my own room and board with wages from the club I work at. It's quite a lovely arrangement and I soon shall own my home,” you say proudly. 

Lord Alberich lets out a low whistle. 

“Impressive indeed. You don’t see many people like that up here. No, not at all. Talk to him about that. The trials and tribulations that you had to go through. I’m sure that the pathos of such a story will impress him,” he muses.  

“Do you think this is some kind of game?” you snap, having enough of his antics. 

“Of course I do. It’s called a season, is it not? One could say all these theatrics is much like hunting game, or waiting for the right time to pick the fruits off the trees,” he chuckles. 

Somehow, that was the exact wrong thing to say and you ball your hands at your side before pointing at the door. 

“Get out.” 

“I don’t think I will,” he says simply. 

“I said get out before I tell everybody that you came here to court me officially, even thought up the idea to propose to me and was simply here this morning to test the waters. I’m sure there are many people out there who saw your carriage and I refuse to take this insult to the life I’ve had to live. Sure, I may not be born to a rich and powerful family like you, but I worked hard for every penny I have. I do not need your help to charm your brother and if he relishes in the fact that I have struggled to be where I am today it will only attest to the fact that your whole bloodline is insufferable.” 

The two of you sit in silence, your anger much too strong for you to realise that somewhere within your spiel, he had already decided his role in affirmative action was now finished. 

“Do you want to know why it is that he responded to your letter?” Lord Alberich says as he gathers his things to leave. 

“I do not care. Leave.” 

“You live just a couple streets over from where I believe I was born. And you know what that means, right?” 

You look at him, realising that this was some piece to the intricate puzzle that was the life of the Duke, and one that not many were privy to. While you weren’t rich, you lived in a part of the city that was home to people who could at least make enough money for their own keep doing jobs that did not make as much money, but at least did not require the prostration of one’s self. However, just past that area lived those who had to do the jobs nobody wanted to do for money that could barely feed half a mouth. 

“You mean to tell me that-” 

He cuts you off before you can speak again, seriousness slipping into his normally aloof disposition. 

“You must understand that Diluc is really a good guy. Any woman would be lucky to marry him. You’ve already made a very good impression on him, do not doubt that. The man you’ve met is but a mere shadow of the person he really is. Father’s kindness is what allows me to enjoy the luxuries I have right now, and I will not have you be a less than perfect match for him should he continue his pursuit for you. The late Duke Ragnvindr wanted only the best for his sons, and I shall enforce that for the one that carries his blood.”

Your head spins at the drastic difference of the man in front of you and the one from just a few minutes earlier.  His words are heavy, a thinly veiled threat peeking out from behind them and greeting you. If you’d known he truly had good intentions you never would have been as cruel to him as you were. 

“I expect Diluc will be making more calls to you in the future. My work here is done. As far as I’m concerned, you passed all my vetting and are now, formally, invited to pursue my brother.” 

“I was unaware he was not allowed to make his own decisions,” you respond, the normal bite in your voice no longer there. 

“He is, but he’s quite dense when it comes to his own feelings. Therefore, I have to make those decisions for him. If you were to think this in terms of Diluc being a lady of breeding, I am her brother giving you, her suitor, permission to court her. Do I make myself clear?” 

You nod and he nods with you, patting your shoulder before taking his leave. 

When the Lord told you to expect the Duke’s visits more often, you had no idea that he meant that very day. 

The Duke is now seated in your drawing room, looking slightly uncomfortable at the prospect of being alone in the said room and you take pity on him, calling in the staff. At that, he visibly relaxes and you laugh, making him laugh a bit too. 

“Apologies. I just do not wish for your honour to come into question should someone find that we were alone. On the insistence of Kaeya, he has suggested that I try to relax more around you and I will now try that,” he says when the two of you fall into a silence, clasping his hands together in his lap.  

He’s awkward, like a foal walking for the first time and the only thing you can think is that it’s very endearing. To keep him comfortable, you sit a little ways from him, but notice the warm tint of his skin and his pulling at his collar. With how pale he is, you can tell that he’s beginning to flush and you can’t blame him. The room is incredibly warm, you having changed from a heavier dress to a lighter one to combat the heat. 

“Your Grace please feel free to remove your coats. I’m sure that you must be sweltering under all those layers,” you offer, worried that he was going to be dangerously close to collapsing. 

He hesitates for a moment before complying, sighing in relief and removing the layers. You watch as his tailcoat comes off, revealing his waist coat. It’s evidently too warm for that garment as well and he unbuttons it, the light muslin giving you a better idea of his form hidden underneath the layers of clothing. His hair drapes over his chest, long red locks spilling over as he tilts his head back and rolls up his sleeves, revealing muscular forearms that have your mind wandering, even more so as he undoes his ascot to give his throat room to breathe. 

“At any moment if you would like me to get dressed again do let me know. It seems this room directly faces the sun and leaves me feeling much warmer than usual. I might even get more freckles at this rate,” he complains, fingers tenderly touching his face as though he could feel them as they form. 

“If you do, I'll be sure to tell you,” you reassure him. 

“Thank you. That will be much appreciated,” he jokes back, a much easier smile on his face before he seems to remember something and shifts back to a more neutral expression. 

At that you frown, fiddling with your hands a little. Diluc notices this and sits up a little more, becoming more attentive. 

“Would it be possible for you to leave the room but keep the doors open?” he asks your staff who listen, leaving the two of you alone. 

“Listen,” he starts when they leave. “I really don’t know how to do this. Any of this. The past couple of years I’ve spent primarily focusing on taking care of my Dukedom, keeping Kaeya in check, making sure the winery is thriving the way it should be and countless other tasks. Social relationships on a more intrapersonal level are not something I can be taught. 

“I understand how to charm someone and how to say things that people want to hear. That is all easy. But somehow, sitting here and just speaking to you is terrifying and I cannot fathom why.” 

You get the sense that he’s speaking honestly, fingers worrying over each other as he waits for your response. The easy look on his face is betrayed only by the stiffness in his body and you realise that this reaction he’s giving you, the fear he’s imparted he feels is because of you and you forget about all your initial reservations. 

“I understand that some feel like a changed person when they pick up a quill and begin writing, their thoughts able to become much clearer and given the time to sharpen their wit until it becomes a fine sword. I suppose that’s how you must have felt when penning your notes to me,” you say in hopes of alleviating his reservations. 

“Yes, that’s right,” he says quietly, eyes looking back up to meet yours. 

“The man in the letters feels like an entirely different person, but I suppose he is somewhere if he was able to create those letters for you.” Your continuance hangs in the air as  the two of you fall silent but this time it feels less strained as he thinks to himself. 

“Could I ask you a favour?” the Duke asks to break the silence. 

“Of course Your Grace. Whatever could it be?” you say quickly. 

“Could we put the letters behind us? I would like to continue our relationship, whether it be platonic or romantic. It feels disingenuous for me to stand here in front of you like this yet simultaneously exist in your mind in such a different manner. Perhaps we could start with a blank slate and give all of this another try?” he suggests, giving you a hopeful look. 

“Perhaps, but only if you’re willing to afford me the chance to ask you a question,” you challenge, speaking again when he nods. 

“I have heard from several people that you refuse to court anybody. What about me made you decide to begin trying?” 

He sits back and considers the question. 

“Well, if I must be honest the answer is fairly simple. You aren’t anything like the rest of the women who try to pursue me. I feel as though I am a prize, something to be won, not a person. And while I am used to that feeling, I do not feel as though that is conducive to a healthy relationship. It is because you are different that I am willing to give you a chance. Does that satisfy your query?” 

“It does,” you nod, thankful that his reason was ultimately something simple. 

“I’m glad that you feel differently around me,” you continue. “It would never be my intention to make you feel like some sort of toy or a possession that I just aim to pass the time with. It’d be a grave dishonour to you and to your being. I can’t imagine that’s a pleasant feeling to have in the least.” 

“It isn’t,” he confirms, and you detect a lightness in his tone. He smiles at you, this smile small but much more genuine than the ones you’ve seen before, even the ones he gave you during your promenade a few days ago. 

“But with you I feel at ease, which is a feeling I seldom have. I quite appreciate it and I think I could get used to it. And if you’ll allow me, I think I would like to further pursue that feeling.” 

Quickly, you move to sit next to him, boldly reaching over to take both his hands in yours. He stiffens slightly but gives in to you, letting you touch him carefully. The show of affection is innocent, but you know that him allowing you to do something so innocuous and innocent is a show of his faith in you and the willingness to further let you in. 

“I would love that,” you say quietly, wishing you could properly intertwine your fingers together, feel the warmth of his palms without the fabric of your gloves between the two of you. 

After a second, he shifts your hands to hold yours, bringing your gaze to meet his. It seems almost as though he is searching for something within your eyes, a desperate last minute plea for an answer that only you can answer if you knew what the question is. His grip tightens a little. You can feel the flex of his fingers, the heat of his gaze as he stares at you, face so close you’re sure if you were to move forward the slightest bit your faces would touch and the honour he promised to maintain perhaps scandalised but you find that such a thing would be more than just welcome if it meant having it done so by his hand. 

You don’t know how long you two sit here with each other, not a single word passing between the two of you as some sort of understanding is achieved. As all good things must come to an end, so too must this, the warmth of his body disappearing as he moves back. His hands leave yours and he redresses, leaving you in awe as his fingers work over his clothes carefully, pulling his hair out of his jacket before standing up to bid you farewell. 

“I have to take my leave now, but I hope that you will not mind my visiting more often. I can assure you that you shouldn’t have to worry about me courting someone else. As far as I’m concerned you’re the only promising candidate,” His Grace says with a slight chuckle as he packs up. 

“Really?” you let your excitement best you, practically jumping up at his words. 

“Really,” he confirms, looking as though he wants to reach out to you again before turning to leave. 

“I’ll see you again when I have time. I hope you’ll be willing to wait for me.” 

The words leave you flush as you nod dumbly, bidding him farewell with a flutter in your chest.

[taestefully-in-luv]

Always You | JJK (Seven)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 10.1k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (!!!), mention of erection, heated make out, marking, grinding, mentions of suicide:( (If this makes you uncomfortable pls skip), mentions of cheating, quick blowjob, swallowing,

Notes: sorry this chapter is shorter than the last! But we only have 2 chapters left guys! And they are long!!! Sorry in advance lol. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter:) Anyway feel free to send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat about the story:)

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch @not-your-lion @flowersgirl02 @justinetingball @fiantomartell

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous

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

Jungkook runs his finger through your hair, his mouth hot on your neck as he leaves behind what feels like a million, slow kisses. You taste sweet and he’s reminded of the first time he got to do this with you and his heart swells at the memory. He feels you grind against him, making him impossibly harder as he grinds back. Your moans fill his ears and it sounds like a chorus of sweet, sweet music to him, he can’t help but grin into his kisses. Suddenly, the image of him kissing down your throat becomes blurry and the sound of your whines echo in the distance. He must be waking up.

Jungkook feels you hovering over him with shocked eyes and he can’t help but wonder what’s gotten into you. He can feel his head beginning to throb from the inevitable hang over that wishes to visit and he raises a hand over it. You continue to look down at him and that’s when he notices it. Them. The hickeys that spread across your skin and he goes absolutely pale.

He looks back at you with wide eyes but he can’t help but feel pride bloom all throughout his body as he looks at how he has marked you but those petals quickly shrivel up when he realizes how badly he must have messed up.

“Oh fuck.” He says under his breath.

“Yeah. ‘Oh fuck’” you repeat back.

Jungkook lifts himself up, leaning on his arms as he takes another look at the bruises that cover your skin. He releases a shaky breath contemplating what to say.

“Drunk.” His eyes slide to the side, “We were really…drunk.”

You narrow your eyes for a split second then look at him with ease,

“Yeah…right…drunk.” You quickly agree.

Jungkook and you share a moment of a silence, admiring one another’s work on the other. You hesitantly reach out, your fingers coming in contact with the side of his neck, brushing against his soft skin.

“This ones huge…I’m sorry.” You say, not sounding entirely sorry. A slight smirk graces your features.

“Ha, you don’t look very sorry.” Jungkook grabs a hold of your hand, “Plus, you don’t even want to see what I did to you.”

You retreat your hand back to touch your own skin, you shuffle out of the sheets and stand from the bed. You walk towards the little mirror over by Jungkook’s closet and take a look.

You audibly gasp, the purple marks that spread across your neck and collarbone are ones for the books.

“What the hell Jeon! How am I supposed to walk out of here today! Everyone’s going to see this!” you gesture towards yourself. “Oh my god.” You turn back to look in the mirror. “This is horrible.”

Jungkook leaves the bed to join you at the mirror,

“Holy shit.” He looks at himself, “I’m not any better!” he throws his hands up but he’s laughing. He’s fucking laughing! You watch in disbelief as he chuckles the fucking day away.

You watch him and you can’t help but start to laugh too. This is just so ridiculous.

“Wait wait…” Jungkook calms down, suddenly becoming serious. “We didn’t do anything else…right?”

“Why are you looking at me like that? Shouldn’t you also remember?”

“You’re the girl! Can’t you like tell…if we…” He motions his hands between your bodies.

“Oh my god. No, we didn’t do anything else. Do you really not remember everything?” you ask with a frown.

“I feel like I do…but I was just being you know, sure.”

Jungkook wishes he could remember everything in great detail but the reality is he was really drunk and some moments are hazier than others. Which is a fucking shame because he wants to remember the first moment you caressed his skin to his lips on yours.

“Do you remember everything?”

“I remember enough.” You admit.

You were drunk, yes. But the memory of you and Jungkook is almost crystal clear and fresh in your mind.

“Bottom line is…we were really drunk and drunk people do stuff like that all the time.” Your hands go to your hips, “I mean, I’ve literally made out with Trina before. Don’t feel special.” You wink, your tone is light and teasing and Jungkook finds you amusing.

“Just two drunk idiots.” Jungkook grins. “So no acting weird.”

“I won’t be weird, will you?”

“I’ll try my best.” He chuckles.

“I’m serious Jungkook, we can be cool about this…” you give him a smile, “It’s not like we haven’t—”

“Stop…” Jungkook lifts his hand up, “I get it.” He chuckles awkwardly.

Your small smile fades, your heart pinches. He never wants to talk about it, did he hate it that much?

“Right…” You begin walking closer towards him and he steps back, your heart pinching once again. “Well, lend me a fucking turtle neck or something so I can get outta here.”

Jungkook smirks down at you as he walks to his closet.

“Fine. Hopefully I have two…I have a black and a white one right?” he asks you from inside his closet.

“Shit, I think I have your white one at my place…”

“I don’t think Nick owns any…”

“Why do you need one? Just stay home today.”

“I’m supposed to meet Vanessa later…”

Your heart doesn’t just pinch this time, it sinks. Deep down into your lower belly until its falling to the ground.

“Oh.”

“I’ll find a scarf or some shit.”

“I’ll bring you your white one, don’t worry.”

“Really? Thanks y/n.” Jungkook walks out of his closet smiling at you, his black turtle neck draped over his arm. “Here.” He hands it over to you.

“Turn around.”

Jungkook raises a brow at you until realization hits him.

“Okay.” He whispers out.

You quickly change into the long sleeve shirt and let Jungkook know he can turn back around.

“I feel like I should make you breakfast or something…” Jungkook scratches the back of his neck, standing here awkwardly.

“Really Jungkook?” you laugh out, “And what would you make me?”

“I think Nick has some toaster waffles.” Jungkook offers with a grin.

“I’m good. I’m gonna head out but I will be back with your shirt!”

“Sounds good, I’ll walk you out.”

You two nod at one another, exiting the bedroom and walking towards the front door. You stop to say goodbye and Jungkook steps into your space, wrapping his arms around you.

“See you in a bit.” He whispers.

“Yeah.” You pull back and smile at him. “See you in a bit.”

~~~~~

“Why the fuck are you wearing a black turtle neck in the middle of August?”

It’s Trina, if you haven’t guessed. It’s the first thing you hear when you step into your apartment, she is over to hang with Holly you’re assuming.

“I was a bit chilly.” You lie through your teeth, giving her a strained smile.

“Take it off.” Trina commands.

“Trina…” Holly warns softly, she’s got her hand on Trina’s shoulder and you can’t help but giggle.

“Wait, your date was last night, right? With this ‘Min Yoongi’? Ooooh, did things go well?” Trina whistles out.

“It wasn’t a date, I already told you…” you whine as you walk into the living room, sitting on the sofa.

“But it did go well! I had a really nice time.” You admit softly, smiling at the memory of your ‘thank you outing’. “He’s so cool and so sweet.” Your eyes light up, “He owns the record shop a few shops away from the bakery!”

“Owns it? Like it’s his?” Holly asks, she shares a pleased smile with Trina.

“Yes, like it’s his.”

“He sounds like a man. Marry him.” Trina gives you an aggresive thumbs up.

“Chill dude.” You laugh. “I think he and I could become really good friends…and…”

“And?”

“Well, you never know.” Your eyes shift to the side as you smirk. “The world is full of mystery.”

Trina smiles brightly, “So you’re saying there’s a chance?”

“I’m saying that there’s not not a chance…”

“I’LL TAKE IT!” Trina lifts up Holly’s hand and high fives herself with it. “Whatever isn’t Jungkook.” She finishes with a grin and you feel your whole body go stiff.

“Trina…” you frown, “I really don’t like when you say stuff like that. Jungkook is a good person. He just…he messed up, yes. But he’s trying.”

“He hurt you.” Trina’s tone goes serious. “How could you forgive him for that?”

“I’m trying too. But I am able to try because I know him…he wouldn’t just hurt me without him having his own reasons…and I love him, T. Like as friends, of course but also…”

“I know.” Trina goes soft, “I know.”

Holly clasps her hands together, “And that’s that! How about we make some food and chit chat some more over some mimosas!”

“I love that idea.” You say.

“But seriously girl, please go change out of that turtle neck…you’re making me sweat just looking at you.” Trina says.

Right, the turtle neck. You told Jungkook you would drop off his white one…well, you gotta find it first.

“Okay, but I have to run an errand first then we can hang.”

“An errand?” Both girls look at you quizzically.

“Don’t worry about it.” Great, now you sound like Jungkook.

~~~~~

Within the hour you are quickly dropping off Jungkook’s shirt off at his place and going back to yours. He answered the door in nothing but his towel again and you tried so hard not to drool. You recall the night before when your fingers were dragging down his chest and his toned stomach. You felt every ab beneath your fingertips. Fuck, that felt good. You’re home now, you shake your head trying to rid yourself of thoughts of Jungkook’s body. But with a body like that? It’s so so hard. Just like how he was…STOP. You shake off these thoughts and try to pay attention to what Holly is saying.

“—And then I turned it in anyway and still got an A!”

“That’s amazing Holly.” You say, trying to act like you weren’t just having impure thoughts.

“Yeah, you totally kick ass.” Trina says.

You girls are a few mimosas in, you feel the champagne starting to work its wonderful magic on you but unfortunately it is making you start to sweat. You want to take off this damn turtleneck.

“I’ll be right back.” You say quickly before retreating to your bedroom. You find a baggy t-shirt and slip it on. This feels much better! But god damn. These marks on your skin are something else. You rush to the bathroom and try to cover some with makeup but it’s hardly helping. Fuck.

“Welp, maybe they won’t notice.” You whisper to yourself.

You walk back out into the living room and you notice both Holly and Trina’s eyes go comically wide.

“Wow, that date did go better than you thought!” Trina starts whooping and hollering.

“Wow y/n.” Holly really does look shocked.

Okay, so maybe they did notice. You feel so self conscious all of the sudden, your hands flying up to your neck to cover yourself.

“It’s—It’s not what it looks like.” You stammer out.

“It looks like this Yoongi guy is really into marking!” Trina yells out with a grin.

“Yoongi is really into marking…” Holly eyes you with horror in her eyes.

“Yoongi! Yoongi! Yoongi!” Trina begins chanting, she looks over at Holly and lightly taps her thigh to get her to start chanting the name as well.

“Guys…” You whine into your hands, “It wasn’t Yoongi.” You must be admitting that because you’ve had a few mimosas.

Silence. The room falls undeniably quiet.

“Wait what?” Trina asks, her wide grin beginning to fade.

“Did you meet with someone else last night?” Holly begins to pry.

“Did you go to a bar or something and meet a rando?”

“Did you bump into someone on the street?”

“Did you call up and old boyfriend? An old hookup?”

“Guys!” You yell out, “I met up with Jungkook last night!”

Once again, the room goes silent.

“You what?” Trina asks plainly, “What does that have to do with the hickeys on your neck?”

“Really Trina?” your head falls into your hands, “We kind of…”

“You guys fucked? Really?” Trina’s serious tone is back.

“No! We just got really drunk and made out! That’s it!”

“But is that really it for you?” To your surprise, it’s Holly who asks this.

“It’s fine. We were just drunk. We decided not to be weird about it. And we won’t.”

“How can you be sure of that?” Trina asks, her voice gone soft.

“Because I will text him in a few days, he’s going to text back. Or I’ll call and he will answer like normal. I’ll ask to hang out or something and we will just be two friends who hang. It will go just like that!”

Except it doesn’t go like that at all. A few days pass and you decided to text Jungkook in the morning after you woke up. You don’t expect to hear back from him for a couple of hours since he will probably sleep in. But hours and hours go by and it’s the afternoon now and you still haven’t heard from him.

“You have reached the voicemail box of…” You click the end button on your phone again for like, the 6thtime. Why isn’t Jungkook answering? It’s a Wednesday afternoon, you know you remember him saying he had today off for some reason so what is he up to? Even if he was with Vanessa, would he really ignore you like this? 6 calls in a row?

You decide to try Jimin, maybe they’re together. You look him up in your ‘Favorites’ and click clack away to calling him. After several rings the boy finally answers,

“Hey.” He says somewhat out of breath, “I’m working, what’s up?”

“Hey it’s nothing really…” you begin, “But have you heard from Jungkook…? I can’t get a hold of him…”

“Huh? No? Maybe he’s just, I don’t know, busy babe.” You can hear Jimin directing some poor child of his wrong moves on the other side of the phone.

“Look, I gotta go. But just try again in a little while, okay?”

“Can you try calling him for me?”

“Huh? Uh, sure. I’ll let you know later. Love you, bye.” Jimin hangs up and you’re left with your phone to your ear, talking to no one.

It’s Wednesday evening now, you and Holly are sharing a pie while watching some weird show on Netflix that Holly insists is good. You’re three episodes in and you’re starting to wonder when the ‘good’ part happens. It’s mostly just been weird but Holly seems invested in it. You’re trying to keep your mind busy, the thought of Jungkook making you feel antsy. You just wanted to call and see if he wanted to chill together…to prove things aren’t going to be weird between you two. Is he really going to be so fucking immature? Big deal, you made out. But to go this far to ignore you? You can’t help but feel so fucking anxious. He won’t ghost you again right?

You mindlessly stick your fork in the pie repeatedly when you feel your phone buzz. Thank God, some sort of reason to look away from this show, you think.

Jimin 6:22pm

Hey, I got a hold of Jungkook…

What the hell? So he answered to Jimin?!

Jimin 6:22pm

It’s probably best to let him be today babe, today is…not a good day

You click off your phone and throw it on the cushion to your side because what the hell does that mean? Not a good day? If he’s not having a good day then shouldn’t he like, lean on you? Wait, you’re asking for too much right? You mean, you’re the one who set boundaries. But if he’s having a bad day why ignore you? You throw the fork in the pie and set it next to Holly, she looks at you mortified that you would just throw your fucking fork. You stand to your feet and start heading to your room.

“Uh, where are you going? Things are just getting good.” Holly whines.

“I’ll be back in a little while Hol, just gotta do something real quick.” You call out from behind you, entering your room to change into some clean clothes.

Once you’re ready you grab your purse and your keys and head towards the front door, and out to your car.

It’s a really quick drive to Jungkook’s apartment, he lives so close to you it’s ridiculous. He couldn’t find an apartment that was further away from his old one? Well, still…you’re grateful it’s a short drive. You wonder how you’ll confront Jungkook. He isn’t the best at opening up so you have to go about this strategically. But knowing you, you’ll be anything but strategic. It’s just with Jungkook you really have to force it out of him—whatever it is. Even then you may get nothing.

You find a parking spot a little a ways from the building, it’s a nice refreshing two minute walk to get inside to find and ride the elevator. You remember riding this elevator with nick and oh god, cringe. You cringe so fucking hard. Speak of the devil, he’s who answers the front door after your insistent knocking.

“Oh hey y/n. What’s up?” Nick’s eyes dart from you to the rest of the hallway. “Is it just you?” he asks, “Jungkook isn’t here…”

“Can I wait inside until he gets home?” you blurt out.

“Uh, sure…” Nick opens the door wider for you to enter. You breeze past him, taking off your shoes at the entrance and make your way to the couch. Damn, you are a woman on a mission.

“Can I get you some water?” Nick offers as he closes the door.

“Sure.”

Nick comes into the living room with a glass full of water and you couldn’t be more grateful. You didn’t even realize how dry your mouth has gotten, the anticipation of Jungkook’s arrival making you nervous.

“Do you know where he went?” you take the glass from Nick and gulp down like half the glass. “He hasn’t answered me all day.”

“Wait, he doesn’t know you’re here?” Nick asks in panicked surprise. “Should you really be here? He might be with Vanessa or like, coming back with her…”

“It’s fine. I’m waiting, is that okay?” you nibble on your lips, waiting for his response.

“Yeah, I guess.” Nick shrugs, “I’ll be in my room if that’s okay? You can watch whatever on TV or like, whatever.” He smiles at you, gesturing towards the TV.

“I’ll be fine Nick.” You smile back.

More than an hour passes, a god damn miserable hour of you sitting on Jungkook and Nicks couch when you finally hear the front door being unlocked. Jungkook.

You straighten up when you hear the door beginning to open, the soft creak sounding a million times louder in your ears.

Jungkook walks through and you notice he is alone, and you sigh in relief. His shoulders are slumped and his head hangs low as he takes his shoes off and you immediately sink in your spot. What’s with him? So, you stand to your feet and clear your throat and he doesn’t even flinch. He just continues walking inside, finding his way into the kitchen. You watch as he opens up a cabinet and reaches for a glass, next he’s fishing the fridge for some fresh water and filling up his cup. He takes a few sips of his water before his dark eyes find you.

“What are you doing here?” his low voice sends a shiver down your spine.

“You went ghost on me today…I was worried.” You leave the living room to walk into the kitchen as well.

“I…” he begins as he sets the glass on the counter. “I didn’t ghost you.”

“How could I be so sure?” you step closer to him, “How come you answered Jimin but not me?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your words, like a deer caught in headlights. He blinks at you repeatedly until he tries forming words.

“It’s nothing personal.” He settles for. “Can we talk tomorrow, y/n?”

“Where did you go today?” God, why do you sound like some weird, possessive girlfriend? You cringe at your own words.

“It doesn’t matter.” Jungkook’s eyes darken again, his voice low.

“It matters to me.”

Jungkook looks down at the floor and you notice him take a few deep breaths, like he is struggling to find a steady one.

“Talk to me, Jungkook.” You reach out to him, your fingers finding his and he flinches at your touch. “What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”

“I….” Jungkook’s voice cracks and you wish you could bring him in to hug you but you don’t. You just let him continue.

“I…have nothing to say.”

Oh. Of course. Of fucking course. Of course Jungkook chooses to stay silent. Of course he chooses not to talk to you.

“Is it Vanessa?” you finally find the courage to ask, “Did you two break—”

“No, we’re fine.” He cuts in. Jungkook frees himself from your hand and looks up at you with a strained smile, “I’m fine, y/n.”

Now, you shouldn’t feel upset. Or angry. But you do, you fucking do. It’s been almost 4 years of this same bullshit where he cannot open up to you and its starting to feel insulting.

“You’re…” you step closer to him again but he takes a step back until he’s backed into the counter. “You aren’t fine. Please talk to me, Jungkook.” You try to say calmly but you think the rage is a little evident in your voice.

“Nothing to talk about.”

“Is it because I’m a girl?”

Jungkook tilts his head to the side, not knowing what you mean by that. Yeah, that was a stupid thing to assume but you aren’t smart right now.

“You can’t confide in girls because you have trust issues? You know, because of your mom…how she left you…”

“Stop.”

“That’s it right?” You volume increases as your anger shows, “Are you fucking serious? When have I ever made you feel like you couldn’t trust me? When have I ever fucking left you?”

“Shut up.”

“No! And yeah your mom left you so you like, don’t trust girls I guess but god damn, Jungkook maybe it’s time to get over—”

“I said shut up!” Jungkook’s voice rises to a volume you have never experienced with him before.

“Have you tried looking for her?” you continue to speak, not realizing you are making everything worse.

“I know where she is.” He states, his nostrils flaring.

You flail your arms around, “Then go fucking talk to her.”

Jungkook looks at you with an unreadable expression, his shoulders to his ears and his fists balled up at his sides. He’s quiet. Too quiet. His breaths are beyond shaky and you finally notice it.

Jungkook’s eyes are glossed over and you think you may have gone too far. His lip begins trembling and he tries to speak but no words come out. He struggles to speak to you and it makes you blink at him like an idiot. Why can’t he speak?

“Jung—”

Jungkook lifts a hand up to stop you from talking any further. He inhales sharp breaths and releases shaky ones. His eyes are full of tears but none fall. He stares down at the ground just trying to do something as easy as breathing, but he falls short.

“Jung—”

“Please.” He croaks out. Jungkook walks to the couch and sits down, his head falling into his hands and you aren’t entirely sure at first but after a few moments you really realize…he is softly and quietly crying. Your Jungkook who never cries in front of anyone is sitting on his living room couch crying. You’re speechless. You also don’t know what to do. Do you try to comfort him? Do you leave him alone? But how could you leave him alone when he sits on his fucking living room couch sniffling away?

You hesitantly walk towards the sofa and take a seat next to him. He doesn’t lift his head to look at you, just continues crying into his hands. You don’t have to think about it, you reach your hand to rub soothing circles on his back and start whispering words of comfort in his ear.

Several moments pass when Jungkook finally lifts his head from his hands, but he still doesn’t look at you.

“Mom…” he clears his throat. “Mom didn’t just leave us. She left everything. She left me.”

“I know Jungkook…I’m sorry… I just lashed out on you, you can heal at your own pace and if she wants to see you again, she will.” You continue to rub his back.

“No, you don’t get it.” Jungkook murmurs. “Mom was hurting a lot. You know?” he begins to get choked up, his throat burning.

“Dad cheated, yes. But he was also neglectful of her and she was in a lot of pain,” he sniffs repeatedly, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

“She felt like she had no one, not even me.” Jungkook face scrunches up as he resists more tears.

“She couldn’t even rely on me.”

Fuck. You know where this is going. It is all starting to make sense.

“Mom killed herself when I was 16.” Jungkook finally says, his voice barely above a whisper, like he was too afraid to say it out loud. Like it made it more real.

“Dad didn’t take it well…he started drinking and I rarely saw him around…I had to take care of myself.” Jungkook finally lets the tears fall.

“I hated him. I still do.” Jungkook clenches his jaw.

You sit on the couch unable to comprehend what Jungkook has gone through. You feel like the biggest bitch alive. You forced your best friend to reopen his wounds in front of you and you had the audacity to pour salt in them.

“Jungkook I’m so—”

“Forget it.” He’s quick to cut you off. You stare at him with wide eyes, your own tears staining your cheeks.

“Please leave me alone for a while.” He whispers and immediately you stop him from rising from the couch.

“No!” you pull him back down. He doesn’t even resist, he falls back to your side and you lead his head to rest on your beating chest.

“I’m here for you, Jungkook.”

And that’s it. That’s what it took for Jungkook to scrunch and twist his face until more tears begin flowing out of his swollen eyes. He cries into your shirt, wetting the material.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” You pat his head, your fingers weaving through his dark locks.

Jungkook cries like this for several minutes, until he’s wiping away his tears and snot with his shirt sleeve. He rises from your chest and looks at you with a painful expression.

“Today is mom’s birthday.” He admits.

Fuck.

“I went to her grave today…” he sniffles, “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before. It’s just…” he starts crying again, “Saying it out loud. Makes it real, don’t you think?” His face is swollen and puffy from his tears and you can’t stop your own tears from sliding down your cheeks.

“Jungkook, I’m so, so sorry.” You feel awful. You can’t even fathom what he has gone through…

“It’s okay, this was bound to happen eventually right?” he laughs awkwardly, snot still dripping from his nose.

“I shouldn’t have forced it out of you…God, I am so sorry.”

“I…” Jungkook’s eyes refill with tears as he tries to speak again, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, I really am. I tried so many times but I just couldn’t say it out loud. I just couldn’t.” The tears fall down his face once again, “I tried.” He begins to cry harder. “I really tried y/n.”

You heart breaks. This is a sight you never want to see again but if anyone has to see it you want it to be you.

“Baby…” you whisper. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

“You’d never leave me…right?” Jungkook chokes on his words as he speaks. “I couldn’t handle it.”

You shut your eyes as you think about what Jungkook has gone through. You think about why he’s been so closed off and why he has troubles with people sometimes—especially girls.

“I wouldn’t ever leave you.” You say in promise. “You’re too important to me.”

Jungkook’s face falls back into your chest, he cries into your shirt for several more minutes as you rub his back and play with his hair.

“Wasn’t I important to mom too?” You hear him whisper.

Your heart breaks even more.

“Of course you were, Jungkook.” You try to save, “I know she must have loved you a lot.”

“Then why?”

“She must of thought you were going to be strong enough without her…” Your fingers thread through his hair again, “And you are. But you know, you aren’t completely without her…” Your hand goes to his chest, over his beating heart.

“She’s here too, with you.”

And with that, Jungkook sobs harder. Like, it’s the first time he’s cried over this. And you wonder if it is. He’s gripping on to your shirt so tightly as he releases intense sob after the other. Your heart continues to fucking break.

“I’m here. I’m here.”

It’s been quiet the last 30 minutes, neither you nor Jungkook have spoken. He’s not even crying anymore, just lightly sniffling every now and then. You wonder if he has fallen asleep. You wouldn’t be surprised, all that crying will take out all the energy out of a person…

You lean your head down to get a look at Jungkook’s peaceful face…he is sleeping. You feel yourself relax as you continue to play with his hair. He needs the rest, you think.

You feel your own eye lids getting heavy and you let yourself fall asleep as well. Jungkook snuggles deeper into your side, his face nuzzling in your chest and you hold him tighter. You two sleep like this for many hours until you’re being woken up at the sound of the blender going.

The living room is lit up with sunlight and your eyes blink lazily. You realize Jungkook isn’t sleeping with you anymore and you start to panic. Where did he go? Then the blender goes off again and you decide to stand from the couch, even though your body feels so heavy.

Jungkook is in the kitchen when you walk over, he’s got his back turned to you and you creep up behind him.

“Boo.” You say, wrapping your arms around him.

“When will you realize that will never work on me?” Jungkook lightly chuckles, “Sorry to wake you up. I figure I could make us some fruit smoothies.” He turns around in your hold. You eye him up and notice how puffy his eyes are and you feel your heart drop.

“Fruit smoothie sounds delicious.” You squeeze him tighter and Jungkook laughs a wonderful laugh. It’s loud and full and filled with joy.

“Hug me back.”

Jungkook smiles down at you and circles his arms around your waist, “Sorry, sorry.”

You smile back up at him and lean your head on his body, he feels so warm it could melt you.

“About last night…” Jungkook begins pulling away from you, “I’m sorry I kind of…”

“You don’t have to apologize.” You cut in. “It’s my fault.”

“No y/n…I’m glad things happened the way they did. I actually feel so much better.” He admits, “Lighter, even.”

“Oh? Well, good. But I am still so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay baby.” He goes back in to hug you tighter. You feel his strong arms hold on to you and you want to stay like this forever. You would if you could. But—

“Shit. What time is it?” You step back from him, digging in your pocket for your phone. “Holy hell, I’m going to be late for work.”

“Then get going. I’ll text you later?” Jungkook asks with hope filling his eyes.

“Yeah.” You smile.

~~~~~~

Work was lame as usual, nothing eventful happened. Yoongi must have been too busy at the shop today since he didn’t come in for cookies. You decide you will go see him at the record shop tomorrow but for now…you’re dealing with something else—someone else.

“Oh? You thought Trina wouldn’t tell me?” It’s Jimin. He’s sitting on the edge of your bed with a popsicle between his lips. “Huh Miss Hickeys?”

“Jimin.” You drag his name out, “It’s not a big deal!” you throw your hands up in exasperation. “We were just really drunk and it didn’t mean anything. Just two drunk idiots.”

“Idiots, for sure.” Jimin sucks on the tip of the popsicle while he speaks.

“Seriously, it isn’t a big deal. We’re both over it.”

“Are you? You like him and he…fuck, this is getting so ridiculous. Promise me, just promise me…you will tell him the truth? You might be sur—”

“Jimin, stop.”

Jimin huffs out a deep, long breath and rolls his eyes at you.

“No.” he says matter of fact. “I won’t stop until you two talk.”

“Anyway there’s something more important we need to talk about…” you begin, “He told me about his mom.”

Jimin’s expression goes from shocked to guilty. He takes a few moments to finish the popsicle, biting the last inch or two and throwing the stick in the trashcan.

“I know. He told me.”

“Oh.”

“He’s been wanting to tell you for a long time y/n…but he just—”

“I know. It must have been really hard for him…all this time…”

“Yeah.” Jimin bows his head, “Me and Tae are the only ones who know because we were friends with him when it happened. That’s the only reason why or else I’m not sure anyone would know.”

“Is that…is that Jungkook’s secret? That you three…”

Jimin’s eyes expand as he realizes what you are talking about.

“N-No.” He admits softly, “That’s something else. That’s something Jungkook will definitely have to tell you on his own and trust me if you guys just talked…”

You tilt your head in confusion. What’s the correlation?

“Anyway, Jimin has Jungkook ever cried to you? About it all?” you ask, curiosity getting the best of you.

“He didn’t even cry at the funeral y/n.”

Fuck. You had a feeling. But knowing for sure is a whole other thing. The way Jungkook broke down in front of you felt like it was his first time and maybe it was and that makes your heart ache.

“Did he…cry? In front of you?” Jimin asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah…”

“Oh… he must really trust you.”

You only nod your head in response.

“If you guys just learned to communicate better…I’m really rooting for you two.”

Your heart swells at Jimin’s little confession and you nod your head again, this time with tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

“Thanks Jimin.” Finally, you feel supported. And it makes you breathe just a little easier.

“I know things haven’t always been easy with you two ever since the Tae thing…but honestly this goes back even further. Doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. We…I don’t know what’s with us.” You chuckle bitterly.

“I do. And I am going to force you two to talk one of these days. I swear on it. I will give you guys some time but damn babe, this is just…” Jimin releases a long breath. “Just don’t give up, okay?”

“Can’t you just tell me?” you don’t mean to sound like you are begging but you kind of do.

“No. It’s truly truly not my place.”

“I can’t just assume what you are talking about, you know? I can’t hope for the best then get crushed. That’s too scary, Jimin.”

“I understand babe.” Jimin scoots closer to you until he’s within arms-reach and caresses your calve. “Just talk to him, please.”

“Too scary.”

“One of these days one of you will have the courage.”

~~~~~~

“And what could be in this little baggy of yours?” Yoongi grins, showing his wonderful gummy smile.

“I brought you 2 cookies Mister Oatmeal Raisin!” You shake the little bag in front of his face in a teasing manner and he chuckles.

“What did I do to deserve your kindness?” He takes the baggy from you and inspects both cookies. “You decided not to be bratty today?” he questions with a smile. “These cookies are perfect.”

You decided to visit the record shop today, on this fine afternoon. It’s one of those days where it’s cloudy and looks like it could rain but it never does. You love days like that.

“This place looks so nice!” you say, bobbing your head around to get a proper look.

“There’s a section where you can sit and drink coffee…it’s not much but its cozy. Wanna check it out?” Yoongi offers, gesturing towards the other side of the shop.

“Yeah.” You say, “Lead the way.”

He guides you to the other side of the shop next to a window. There’s a table for two and he’s right—it is cozy looking.

You sit down and wait for Yoongi as he fetches two coffees, which you are so excited about since you have a fucking addiction.

He sets a cup down in front of you and takes his seat.

“So any new happy moments in life? Anything new to be grateful for?”

“I—”

“That’s a trick question,” Yoongi’s eyes go small as he smiles widely, “There’s always new moments to be grateful for.”

You can’t help but laugh, you bring the steaming hot coffee to your mouth and you blow on the liquid multiple times before bringing it to your lips and taking a sip.

“Yes I guess so.” You smile.

“And what are they?”

“I’m grateful the sun is hiding today, I like the clouds a lot.”

“I love that.” Yoongi takes a sip of his own coffee. “What else?”

“I’m happy you brought me coffee.”

“I’m glad I somehow made it on your list of things.”

“What about you?” you ask.

“I’m grateful my A.C is working again!” he laughs, “It was actually broken for a couple days and I had like 5 fans plugged in around the place. I don’t think anyone wanted to come in here.”

“Oh no! Well, I’m glad it’s working!”

“How are things with your friend Jungkook? You guys were complicated last time I checked.”

You raise your brows in surprise that Yoongi would bring up Jungkook. But somehow you also aren’t surprised, it seems Yoongi takes a genuine interest in your life.

“We’re actually doing okay…” You bring the coffee back to your lips, taking another sip when—

“Have you told him your feelings yet?” Yoongi casually takes a gulp of coffee as you choke on yours.

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry…was that too forward?” Yoongi sets his cup down. “To be fair, you both are very obvious.

“What do you means us ‘both’?” You grab a napkin and wipe your chin where coffee dribbled.

“He clearly likes you too.” Yoongi stares at you as you stare back with a blank expression, and he laughs. “You two remind me of myself and someone I used to know.”

“Used to?”

“We were never on the same page…too many missed opportunities that it ruined anything we could have had.” Yoongi frowns for a split second before breaking out into a soft, gummy smile. “I’d hate to see that happen to you.”

“Yoongi—”

“But if it does then better for me?” he whispers with a smile in his voice.

“What do you mean by—”

“Oh. But he has a girlfriend, right?” Yoongi cuts you off with his question.

“Not exactly but basically…”

Vanessa. Your stomach drops at the mention of her and you hate it. Why does she have to have such a strong affect on you? Why does she even have to exist? You mean, she can exist but maybe not in your life—or Jungkook’s life.

Suddenly, the doors bell goes off with a ding and Yoongi is smiling brightly at whoever just walked in. You continue to sip your coffee not giving it much mind.

“Taehyung!” Yoongi shouts out, standing from his chair to wave over his friend.

Wait, Taehyung? He can’t mean the same Taehyung—

“y/n?”

Oh shit. You turn around in your seat and your face falls when you see him. Even on this cloudy day his skin is so golden like the sun is shining down on him, he looks bright and beautiful. As usual.

“Hi Taehyung.” You wave awkwardly. He can immediately tell how uncomfortable you are, his face deepening into a frown.

“I can come by later…” he offers to you.

“No, no. Don’t be ridiculous.” You try smiling but it’s quite tense.

Yoongi looks between you two and he points between your bodies.

“You two know each other?”

“We went to school together, had mutual friends blah blah blah.” You say.

Taehyung only agrees with the nod of his head. Yoongi blinks at your two and opens his mouth to say ‘Ah.’ And heads to the back for another cup of coffee.

“How have you been y/n?” Taehyung asks awkwardly, he shifts from one foot to the other as he stands here.

“Pretty good, I think.”

“You think?” he chuckles. “Hey, sorry if my texts bother you…”

“They don’t.” you say honestly. “Sorry I don’t always reply.”

“It’s okay, I understand. How’s…Jungkook?” Taehyung eyes shoot down to the floor. “He doesn’t answer my texts either. It really hurts to see years of friendship go down the drain…”

“He’s mad at you Tae,” You begin, “But I think one of these days he will chill out.” You laugh and this makes Taehyung ease up.

“He really fucking loves you.”

“Well we are best friends… sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“We kind of stopped talking for a little while but we’re back to being friends.” You try explaining but Yoongi is walking back in with a cup of coffee in hand. He hands it to Taehyung, which he accepts gratefully.

“You’re here for that new Jazz mix record, right? I have it behind the counter for you.” Yoongi says to Taehyung and Taehyung only gives him a thumbs up. He eyes you curiously, wondering what the hell happened between you and Jungkook.

“I have to get back to work boys!” You stand from the table, “Thanks for the coffee Yoongs”

Yoongi smiles at the new nickname.

“And maybe I’ll see you around, Tae?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung gives you his signature boxy grins and you feel like maybe things all around are getting better. Just maybe.

~~~~~

Jungkook has his hands knotted in Vanessa’s hair as she chokes on his cock, her lips wrapped around it fully.

“Fuck.” Jungkook whines out, “I’m so close.”

Vanessa only moans in response, she continues to bob her head up and down on his dick making his orgasm approach quickly.

“Gonna come, gonna come.”

And he does, he comes down her throat and she swallows it all perfectly. Only a drop or two left behind on her lips which she quickly wipes away with her fingers.

Vanessa stands to her feet and Jungkook pulls her in for a quick kiss.

“That was good…” he says, somewhat out of breath.

“Glad.” She says smoothly, going in for another kiss. This time she lingers, her lips lasting for a moment longer on his.

Vanessa’s fingers brush against his neck, she traces the outline of one last bruise left on the side below his ear.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” she smiles coyly. “You two sure are weird.” She says flatly.

“Vanessa…”

“It’s fine. I know you know I still see him. It’s not like we agreed to be exclusive.” She taps her skinny fingers on his chest.

“But we are trying aren’t we? To make this work?”

“You aren’t trying very hard, are you?” the amusement in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook.

“He cheated on you, Vanessa. Why are you still seeing him? I thought you said he has a girlfriend now?”

Vanessa pauses her tapping on his chest, her eyes go wide for a second. Like, for a second she wasn’t void of emotion.

“He does.” She says smoothly before she begins tapping her fingers against his chest again.

“He cheated on me with this girl.” She admits, “Little does this bitch know—”

“Is that healthy? Getting revenge?” Jungkook asks, concern lacing his voice.

Vanessa continues to tap her fingers as she narrows her eyes at Jungkook.

“You want to talk to me about what’s healthy?” her empty laugh fills the room.

“I want you to stop.” Jungkook’s hands go to her hips, “Let’s be exclusive, Vanessa.”

“I can’t stop…” she whispers softly, “I can’t let go.”

Jungkook observes Vanessa for a few moments, she looks as vulnerable as she did the first time she talked about her ex with him. He feels sorry for her. He really does want her to move on, for her own sake.

“You can move forward, Vanessa. You have me.”

Vanessa looks into his eyes, studying his serious expression. She can tell he means well but…she doesn’t have him. She never will.

“Please Vanessa, we can make this work.” He begs, yes begs.

Vanessa tilts her head to the side. Oh? This must be his desperation talking, she thinks. His desperation to get over you. She knows this. And she doesn’t hold it against him and instead she decides to help him.

“Okay, let’s make this work.”

~~~~~~~

y/n 8:09pm

On a scale of 1-10 how bad do you wanna watch spirited away right now?

Jungkook 8:15pm

11 girl don’t play

y/n 8:16pm

I thought so, I think this means you need to come over and watch it w meeee

Jungkook 8:20pm

Lemme shower and I’ll be over:)

y/n 8:22pm

Bring beer pllllssss

Jungkook 8:42pm

On my way

y/n 8:45pm

Drive safe bb

It’s around 9pm exactly when you hear soft knocking on the front door. You scurry towards the door and open it, finding Jungkook on the other side. He is wearing your favorite gray puma sweat suit and his hair is wavy and damp. He smiles at you when he sees you eyeing him up and down.

“Like what you see?” he teases.

“Wow, what a classic line Jungkook. Real original.” You scoff, letting the boy through.

Jungkook walks in, setting down a case of beer on the breakfast table.

“I brought our favorite.” He gestures towards the beer on the table. “Let’s drink it while it’s nice and chilly.”

“Agreed. I already have the movie set up.” You point towards the T.V “Ready for our viewing pleasure.”

“Where’s Holly?” Jungkook takes two beers from the case, handing one over to you.

“Her and Trina went out to some bar, I didn’t feel like going.” You take the beer and twist off the cap, Jungkook does the same. You two clank the bottles together in cheers and take a few sips.

“Ah.” You say, the refreshing beer making you feel well, refreshed.

“Because you don’t feel like going to a bar? Or because you would rather hang out with me?” Jungkook smirks, taking another sip of his beer.

“Because I didn’t feel like getting pretty.” You bring the beer to your lips, but you don’t drink from the bottle, just waiting for a response instead.

“You’re always pretty.”

You take a sip of the beer, feeling satisfied with his response. “I know.” You half joke.

“Let’s go to a bar.” Jungkook blurts out.

“W-What?”

“Let’s go in our lounge clothes.” He smiles, “Let’s just do it.”

“No!” you laugh out, “We look like slobs. Well, I do. You look…” your hand motions towards his body, “You know, you look…”

“Are you trying to say I’m hot, y/n?” Jungkook’s sly smile grows as he drinks his beer.

“You know what I mean.” You huff out.

“Well, I think the same of you. So let’s go.”

You can’t help but laugh, you continue to drink your beer back, the liquid settling nicely.

“Okay. Fuck it, let’s do it.” You can’t help but grin, the idea of going to a bar in yoga pants and a t shirt with your sort of best friend sounds so great to you.

“But maybe a little makeup…” Jungkook starts chuckling as you hit his arm with your fist.

“Shut up.”

The bar is mostly pretty casual, maybe not as casual as you and Jungkook but still casual.

Only a small handful of people are actually dressed nicely, but mostly are in jeans and nice shirts. Somehow Jungkook is still the hottest guy here. Even in his sweat suit. You’re surprised you two even got let in, does this place not have some sort of dress code? Guess not.

It’s pretty loud inside, the place has a live band and a decent dance floor. You and Jungkook head towards the bar and take your seats.

The bartender takes a few minutes to reach you two and when she does she automatically nods at Jungkook for his order.

“Two long islands please.” He says, he smirks towards you and you smile back. Long islands? Oh you’re getting drunk drunk tonight.

“You got it.” She smiles at him with all her teeth, and turns around to start mixing the drinks.

“Long islands, huh?” you rest your head in your hand on the bar top.

“I figure neither of us are driving tonight, we might as well go hard.” Jungkook smiles at you. “I’ll buy this first round?”

“Sounds good to me.” You bump fists with Jungkook with a wide smile. “Wanna make a bet?”

“What’s that?” Jungkook quirks a brow at you.

“I bet you $5 that by the end of the night the bartender will hit on you.”

“But I also bet $5 that the bartender will hit on me.” Jungkook pouts.

You stare at him in disbelief at his cockiness and you burst out into giggles.

“Fair enough.” You say between laughs.

The bartender slides two drinks to you and Jungkook, she twists and twirls her hair in her fingers as she asks Jungkook how it tastes. He takes a sip and gives her a thumbs up, you can’t help but snicker.

“Can we also get two tequila shots?” you wave at the bartender. She turns to face you and frowns.

“Sure.” She puts on a fake smile and turns to fill up two shot glasses with tequila. She sets them in front of you a Jungkook and tells you the amount due.

“Tequila shots? Are we trying to fucking die tonight?” Jungkook chuckles from beside you. He grabs two limes and hands you one.

“To us.” You say, lifting your shot in the air.

“To you.” Jungkook whispers as you clank glasses and throw back the shots.

Holy shit, you are fucking wasted. After several tequila shots and a few long islands you and Jungkook are barely holding on. Okay, fine. It’s not that bad. But you guys are really drunk!

His hand hasn’t left your waist for hours, and it feels so fucking nice. It feels perfect. It feels right.

“y/n?” a voice calls out to you. You know this voice, really well in fact.

“Taehyung!” you cheer. You stumble forward and go in for a high five and his drunk ass high fives you back.

“Fancy seeing you again.” You giggle.

Jungkook’s hand grips your waist tighter as he narrows his eyes at Taehyung.

“What do you mean again?” Jungkook asks, his voice low.

“We ran into each other at my friend Yoongi’s” you slur out.

“Hi Jungkookie.” Taehyung awkwardly sways back and forth, his words also slurred. It’s obvious he’s on the same level as drunk as you.

“…Hey.” Jungkook hesitates to respond, he looks between you two. “y/n…is this okay? Talking to him?”

“Hm? Oh? Yeah.” You stare at Jungkook blankly. Why wouldn’t it be, you think.

“Jungkook, maybe we could talk just the two of us?”

You look between the boys and somehow you feel yourself sobering up just a bit.

“Uh. I’ll go to the bathroom.” You say, already walking away.

“You know how sorry I feel.” Taehyung begins, “About everything.”

“What’s everything?” Jungkook mumbles under his breath.

“I’m sorry for what I did to y/n. But I am also sorry for holding your secret over you like that to keep mine.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook slurs out, “That was fucked up.”

“I miss you guys…” Taehyung takes a sip of his drink, “Even Jimin barely talks to me.”

“Shouldn’t have messed with our girl.”

“You mean, your girl.” Taehyung drunkenly corrects Jungkook.

“Whatever.”

“Seriously man, when are you just going to grow the fucking balls?” Taehyung raises his voice just a bit, “It’s clear how you both feel—”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about man, plus I have a girlfriend now—”

“You guys are official now?” You walk up to the boys, cutting in. You feel like maybe he’s just saying that.

“y/n…yeah, we just made it official.” Jungkook admits, running a hand through his hair, sighing out in frustration.

Oh. You feel your heart begin to crumble. They’re dating for real now?

“Do you have feelings for her?” You blurt out.

Jungkook shifts from one foot to another, he breathes in and out in and out. He bites on his bottom lip, thinking of how to respond.

“I don’t know what to say to that.”

Well, at least he’s honest.

“Well, I’m going to head back to my friends…” Taehyung butts in awkwardly. “It was nice seeing you two.” And with that he’s slipping away in the crowd.

“Wanna dance?” you say, trying your best to change the subject. You decide you don’t want to know his answer.

“Sure.” Jungkook smiles at you, he reaches for your hand and you squeeze his tightly. You guide him to the dance floor, the song is a slow one. You two look at one another but there’s nothing awkward about this. He guides your arms to wrap around his neck and his hands circle around your waist, he pulls you in close as you two sway to the music.

“Never go 3 months without me again.” You whisper into his neck.

“W-Why are you bringing that up now?”

“I have to keep my eyes on you, Jungkook. Without my supervision you go off and get yourself a girlfriend.” Your drunken words pierce his heart.

“Is that a problem?” He whispers back. “Yes, a big problem.” You lean back to get a look at his face, he’s already staring down at you, he somehow brings you in even closer.

“Whys that?” He breathes out.

“Want you all for myself.” You admit, drunk words are sober thoughts right?

“You want me baby?” Jungkook leans down until he’s so close, like he cannot control it.

“Yes.” You blink up at him, your lips parted.

The song changes but you two continue to dance like it’s a slow song.

“I bet you $5 that some guy will hit on you in the next couple of minutes.”

You tilt your head and drunkenly giggle, “I highly doubt that.”

Jungkook reaches in his back pocket and hands you a five dollar bill.

“What’s this f—”

“You’re so fucking beautiful” and then his lips are just a mere inch away from yours before he’s pulling back with a look of horror and guilt plastered on his face.

“I—I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’m with Vanessa now. I’m just drunk. I’m really drunk. You’re really drunk. We don’t know what we’re doing.” He drunkenly rambles.

You feel your heart sink down into your lower belly, you feel it crack and break into a million pieces. That’s right. Vanessa. He’s making it work with that girl.

“Yeah, it’s okay.”

“You’re my best friend y/n.” Jungkook slurs out, “I’m trying so hard not to ruin that.”

You only nod your head.

“Let’s go home.” You say.

~~~~~~

Your bed is comfy as ever, especially this drunk. Jungkook takes his shirt off and slips into the sheets, settling next to you.

“Wanna cuddle?” he offers.

“I don’t know if Vanessa would like that.” You slur.

“Right.” Jungkook lays on his back, his arms folding beneath his head. “Should I sleep in the living room?”

“No. I want you here.” You admit between soft breaths. “I always want you here.” You yawn out.

“Good.” Jungkook reaches out to hold you, “I don’t think Vanessa will mind if I cuddle my best friend for just five minutes.”

“Five minutes only” you tease. You shuffle closer to him, his warmth escaping his body and clinging to yours.

You two fall asleep like this. Morning comes slowly, like the world is giving you a chance to really appreciate one another’s company. Like the world knows that moments like this are so hard to come by. Like the world knows that you two need this.

When you wake up the next day, its half past noon. You’re still in Jungkook’s arms while he is dead asleep. You nuzzle into his chest and thank the world for giving you this moment. This moment to embrace him like he is yours, a moment to kiss his cheek like he is yours, a moment to whisper you love him like he is yours.

But he isn’t. He isn’t yours and that’s the reality. But you thank the world nonetheless. Because you need these moments to stay sane. But how do you two always end up like this? Can you keep blaming the alcohol? He tried to kiss you last night and that’s also the reality.

Jungkook wanted to kiss you. Can he keep saying it’s just because he’s drunk?

But he’s with Vanessa now and you have to respect that. And you will respect that.

You thank the world though, that right now he’s in your arms, breathing your air, and sharing this moment. Just you and him.

Finally, after another half hour Jungkook begins to stir in his sleep.

You stare at him as he wakes up and his sleepy eyes find yours.

“G’morning.” His voice is low and raspy and you want to swoon.

“Hi.”

“We…” he looks between your bodies. “Didn’t do anything, right?”

You feel your chest tighten, “No, Jungkook.” You answer calmly.

“Okay…” Jungkook frowns, “We can’t keep doing this, can we?”

Somehow you know exactly what he’s talking about, you can’t keep building this tension between you two. It goes nowhere.

“No” You admit softly, “We can’t.”

You think about Jimin’s words…could Jungkook…? But you don’t want to jump to happy conclusions, put yourself out there and then be wrong. But he tried to fucking kiss you. The girls were right, is this really all for you? You can’t keep doing this. It’s not good for you. “We really can’t.” you say again.

Jungkook smiles, but its soft and sad and makes you want to kiss his pouting lips until he shows you a real smile but you can’t.

“I’m sorry about last night.” Jungkook moves to his back, he stares up at the ceiling.

“I was just really drunk.” He continues, “Drunk me is wild.” He chuckles awkwardly.

“Is that really an excuse anymore?” you feel brave enough to say.

“y/n…”

“Forget it. We’re okay.”

“Are we?” Jungkook moves back to his side, facing you. He gives you a troubled look and you melt. Why are you always melting because of this man?

“Yeah. What’s more important is that your birthday is next week…”

“Oh yeah.”

“Can I be in charge of your party?”

“I don’t want a party, just a couple of friends.”

“Let me host it!”

“Okay, fine.” Jungkook smiles, “I can’t wait.”

“Do I have to invite Vanessa?”

“y/n.” Jungkook groans.

“Kidding!” you sing. Although, you aren’t entirely sure that you’re just kidding.

“It would be nice if you could plan this with Vanessa actually…she mentioned wanting to do something nice for my birthday too.” He sort of whispers out, like he didn’t want you to actually hear.

“Oh.” You aren’t sure what to say. You obviously don’t want co-host a get together with Vanessa but she is his girlfriend after all.

“Fine.”

You and Vanessa? Let’s see how this goes.

[sukiglycerin]

it takes two || katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: pro-hero!katsuki bakugou x reader (gender neutral!)

* genre: fluff, teeny bit of angst

* words: 1,647

* warnings: brief fighting scene (implied), swearing (duh), a lil bit of insecure katsuki but ofc comfort after, reader is mentioned to be in the hero business field, KATSUKI WEARS SHOES IN THE HOUSE !!! can you believe the audacity-

* original request:  Hello dear :)) Can I request a Bakugou x reader fic where he gets hit by a clone quirk and the clone is like the complete opposite of him, personality-wise, and Bakugou frequently loses his temper because the clone keeps hitting on his s/o I am sorry for bothering you :(

* a/n: you? bother me? never. actually, i’m sorry this took so long to complete! i’m hoping i can restart a consistent posting schedule soon. happy early birthday bakugou! this is my gift :) i hope you all enjoy~ i love @toishi for proofreading this T^T

it’s a lazy day for you. all you’ve been doing is sleeping, waking up occasionally to eat, and indulging in six different rhythm games despite your lack of rhythm, it’s a good day, snuggled up under the mountains of fuzzy blankets and squished in between soft pillows on your bed, your favorite song quietly playing from your phone on your nightstand. natural light fills your otherwise unlit room, curtains pushed aside to let the sun shine in her full glory. time is idle in this sanctuary of yours for only today; whether a minute or an hour has passed is something out of your concern. 

there’s nothing different when bakugou comes home, the jingle of keys and click of the door telling you that it’s him. he’s oddly quiet, though, and for a second you’re almost wondering why he hasn’t yelled “i’m home, dumbass!” before said blond peeks his head into the room. 

“hey, love,” he flashes a rare smile. it’s kind, like the soft light of the sun you've become so acquainted with. “i’m home.”

“hey?” you sit up, propping the pillows behind you so you can comfortably lean against the headboard of your bed. “you feeling alright?”

you expect a gruff reply of “the fuck are you talking about?” and a scowl, but get the opposite. a pleasant expression graces katsuki's face, which makes him look more handsome than usual. his hair almost seems tame this way. he’s also uncharacteristically clean; his costume is usually dirt-treaded and at least a little battered whenever he returns from hero patrol. now, though? his outfit is pristine, as if pulled out from a laundromat and ironed professionally. there’s a ghost of a frown on your lips.

"i'm lovely, now that i can see you." the line is spoken like a sappy confession from the male lead of a k-drama; you'd laugh if it wasn't for your utter confusion about katsuki's sudden change in demeanor. his facial expression is twisted in such a gallant way that it arouses suspicion in you.

you’re opening your mouth to reply when there’s a startling crashing at the front door. katsuki’s face falls into downhearted dread, as if expecting the intrusion. his reaction surprises you more than the intrusion itself. the door slams shut in the distance, rattling the house. the sound of boots clomping against the hardwood floor frightens you as you thrust your warm sheets aside (alas, they could wait) and reach for your bat under the bed. katsuki only stares at you, transfixed, and you feel the slightest urge to clobber him with the weapon. why isn’t he ready to fight? you’re up and approaching the doorway of your bedroom when you stop in your tracks.

“hey, fucker!” a loud, abrasive voice yells from down the hallway. “i found ya!”

you recognize that timbre in an instant, then turn to look at katsuki, still standing at your bedside, with a questioning gaze. he’s wearing an expression you never thought you’d see your husband have - his eyes are wide, mouth agape like a deer in headlights.

despite this vote of inconfidence from him, you pad forward slowly, bat gripped tightly and slung over your shoulder. you plunge forward, passing the doorway and glancing left. a shadowy figure stands five feet from you, its stature menacing. you swing blindly, but you bat is only met with more air. the figure is a little bit further now - damnit, it had good reflexes.

“you could still use some work on that swing,” it lowly chuckles and confuses you. you squint, trying to make out who in the world this guy thinks he is to comment on your swing. you gasp, faltering your grip on the bat. 

“k-katsuki? what?”

“got hit with a stupid clone quirk on patrol,” this katsuki grumbles bitterly, stepping towards you. he’s dressed in his full hero costume, green grenadier bracers a tight fit in the narrow hallway. “i apprehended the guy but my clone won’t stop following me around. it’s stupidly fast, too, whenever i try to catch it.”

“....and,” you start, “how do i know that you’re not the clone?” you pretend to inspect him close, eyes slowly trailing from the tips of his spiky, golden hair to his black combat boots. (oh, man, you were going to yell at him about wearing shoes in the house later.)

“don’t start this inception bullshit with me now,” he groans. 

“what’s katsuki bakugou’s favorite food?” you question, though you have no doubt that this katsuki is the real one. 

“anything spicy,” he bemoans. “now, let me-”

“that was an easy one.” you shake your head. “what was the first idea katsuki bakugou had for a hero name idea instead of lord explosion murder?”

if you were in better light, you’re sure you would’ve seen his cheeks flush pink. 

“mighty boom,” he mumbles. 

“sorry, what was that?” you tease.

“mighty boom!” he half-shouts, flustered.

“oh, okay, so you’re the real katsuki,” you say. “how do we defeat the clone?’

“according to the quirk user, it should disappear after two or three hours. but it can’t really do much harm, as long as it’s not in the sight of the user himself,” he says. “now let me at ‘im. he’s making a fool of myself.” 

he attempts to shove himself forward, but you stop him before he can see through the door frame. you glance at the clone, who’s looking at you with round, ruby eyes. he looks like a puppy with that innocent expression, and for a split second, you think that you actually might miss the calm, charming air of this katsuki. turning back to the real katsuki, who pretends not to notice the shift in your eyes, you exhale. 

“have at it, but take it outside first, please. i can’t have you tracking in more dirt.” you look to the dirt-ridden footprints behind him on the wooden flooring, sighing.

but in a flash he’s past you - wow, you really weren’t blocking him at all before, were you? - outfit a blur of black, green, and orange as he seizes the clone, slings it over his shoulder like it's made of air, and vanishes past you and out the door. he seldom leaves a trace of dirt, this time, smooth maneuvering himself outside while the clone bids you one last pleading farewell.

you hear blasting, yelling, and yelps, the lattermost presumably the clone’s, barely muffled from your position inside. your first thought wonders what the neighbors will think. you glance one last time at the tracks of katsuki’s boots then turn back to your room. he’d have to mop up that mess later. 

ten minutes and an eternity later, katsuki returns inside. by the pause at the front door, you figure one of two things: katsuki’s either taking the time to take off his shoes and put them away properly or staring at the filth he left on the floor. you’re hoping it’s the former. his footsteps are light as he goes to fetch a mop and clean the mess.

finished, he shuffles into your shared room and briefly looks at your comfortable position on the bed.

“what?” you whine. “hero business is hard. i needed a day off.”

this earns a laugh from the man, who’s in the process of removing his gauntlets and stowing them away. he shrugs off the rest of his costume, opting for much more comfortable attire and dropping his mask on a dresser. 

“how was your day?” you ask when he snuggles next to you on the bed. he’s sweaty and smells deeply of caramel, but you’ll nag him to shower later. the wear shows in his eyes and movement, sluggish after a long day of work. 

“good,” he mumbles, nuzzling into your warmth. “except for that clone bastard.”

you hum, joking, “he was charming, though.”

when he looks up at you with a vulnerable look in his eyes, you regret it.

“did you… really like him that much?” his voice is hoarse, scarcely a whisper. he averts his eyes, fiddling with the hem of your shirt sleeve.

“of course not,” you reply tenderly, bringing your hand to caress his cheek. he still can’t look you in the eyes.

“you know you’ll always be number one in my heart, right? even if you’re not the number one hero, you’re the constant in my heart.” you touch your chest, right over your heart. 

“y-you sure?” his words crackle like dying embers, inconsistent and unstable, flakes of lit ash that weakly dissipate into the atmosphere. a waning fire is still warm, though; with a bit of oxygen it can be rejuvenated, relit, and burn bright once again. 

“am i one to be wrong?” you ask him, and he faintly shakes his head. “i fell in love with you not for your looks, katsuki… i don’t want a disney prince. i want you, not some fairytale guy.”

“i yell, and i’m brash-”

you cut him off, chuckling, “and that’s what i love about you. you don’t-” you make a vague gesture with your hands, then drop them, unsure how to articulate your thoughts. “you don’t care what people think. you’re unapologetically… you.”

“you sure?” katsuki tries again. “that- that guy, that thing- you sure you don’t prefer a guy that’ll buy you roses with a note on the tag that says ‘you are the most beautiful flower in my garden’ in fancy cursive script on it?”

“do people really do that?” you frown. “i mean, i hope no guy does that for me-” katsuki exhales a breath of relief. you look at him questioningly but don’t press the issue. 

“i love you, katsuki,” you finish, “and no shitty clone will ever change that. ever.”

while he showers, katsuki’s thankful that he burned the roses from some secret admirer he found in your shoe locker during your high school days. 

[childrenofthenightt]

That’s The Way (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 5.7k

Warning(s): Jimmy and Y/N falling in love at first sight🥺, nsfw insinuations in the beginning but nothing bad, language

Author’s notes: It’s Jimmy time, mates! I’m so sorry for making you wait so long! Slow burns can suck like that sometimes. I hope you’re enjoying the plot so far, and that it wasn’t what you expected! There’s so much more drama to come, though, so I hope you’re excited for that😂 As usual, please enjoy, happy reading, and send us messages if you have theories, comments, music recommendations for the playlist, or if you want to be added to the tag list :)

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3

------

Y/N’s train ride home from The Yardbirds’ hotel was a constant swirl of what the fucks booming in her mind: what the fuck just happened, what the fuck does this mean, what the fuck am I doing, what the fuck is Jim doing, what the fuck will this become?  

Out of all the things on God’s good, green earth he could have wanted, he wanted her to kiss him. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Y/N thought when she initially heard the request. Then, when she questioned it, he escalated it to a blowjob since she thought a kiss was “too tame.” Y/N eventually did kiss Jim, as he wished. She was pretty sure that he still wanted her to kiss him after his little upgrade, and boy, was she right. ‘He called me a princess’, she remembered...what the hell was that supposed to mean?

As contradictory as it was, her mind was racing with so many thoughts, yet, at the same time, none at all. She was in overdrive, unable to think straight. Y/N forced herself to come to her senses as the train neared her stop, since her parents could not see the sheer bewilderment in her eyes and facial expression as she walked into her home. They would ask question after question, interrogating her as if she had committed a crime they had to get to the bottom of. She had to admit, reluctantly, that this was exciting. The star-studded aspect of it, the secrecy… It was a rollercoaster ride, yet Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to get off anytime soon. In the back of her mind, though, she knew this little dalliance wasn’t going to lead to anything serious.

Jim, however, currently sitting at the foot of his bed in an empty hotel room, was in a complete daze. He couldn’t comprehend that this was reality. The most beautiful girl in the whole world had just sucked him off, and then kissed him! She was completely obedient yet willing, and adorably shy, blushing every two seconds. But the kiss. It was dizzyingly soft, sweet, and passionate on her part. To Jim, this meeting of lips was perfect. Addictive. Devastatingly addictive, like a drug. He wanted more. Her lips were something else to taste and feel. He wondered if she would ever come back to him with intimate intentions. Perhaps even to spend the night, or something even more serious. By the way she so often smiled in a bright and enthusiastic way, Jim thought she just might. He had come to the conclusion, after continuously replaying what had happened just minutes ago in his head, that he was falling hopelessly in love with this girl. His Y/N.

Jim had never felt like this before.

And he didn’t know what to do about it.

~~~~~~~~

A few weeks later...

Y/N’s mum had sent her and her brother Charlie by train into London to go grocery shopping, and perhaps to visit Carnaby Street, Portobello Market, and the Oxfam charity shops to get some new clothes for themselves. Pushing the cart around the supermarket, Y/N and Charlie looked intently at the handwritten list their mum had given them.

“Alright, what do we need next?” Y/N asked, her head tilted to see the small piece of paper.

“Uh, we still have to get oatmeal, eggs, and some fruits and vegetables,” Charlie replied, mirroring Y/N’s position as he gazed down at the list in his hands, which was slowly being painted with black ink. They were making good time, all things considered.

“Let’s go to the produce section then, so we can get everything all in one go,” Y/N decided, starting to push the cart in that direction.

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Charlie’s nod served as confirmation, and the two walked on, gazes captured every-so-often by the gaggle of people passing by.

Once the two siblings reached their desired destination, Y/N began inspecting the clear clamshell containers of assorted berries as Charlie went to fetch a bag of broccoli florets and a variety of potatoes. As Y/N began placing the fruit in the cart, she heard a familiar voice calling her name.

She turned around to see a very domestic-looking Jeff Beck, pushing around a grocery cart, just like she was. It was odd to see him going about his life as though he was just an ordinary working-class man, especially being the revered guitar god he was. Y/N laughed at the sight as he came over towards her.

“Hi Jeff,” Y/N greeted, walking over to give him a hug.

“Hello darling,” he responded, tilting the girl back and forth in the hug, long arms cradling her against his chest. “How are you doing?”

Y/N looked at him with a small grin after pulling away. An exhale passes through pursed lips as she replies. “As well as I can be, I guess. How ‘bout you?”

“Can’t complain,” he smiled, which then turned a little more solemn. He reached out a hand to place on her upper arm in solace. “I’m still really sorry about Sam, love. I wish I could’ve told you, but he swore me to secrecy… and I don’t want to lose my job just yet.”

“Don’t worry about it, I completely understand. It’s not your fault.” Y/N’s chuckle chimed through the air, much like the birdsongs that seemed to fill the space around them, and she paused, “I’ve done quite a bit of soul-searching recently, and I don’t think I truly loved him...the situation was all so new and exciting, that it made me believe I did. But now, I realize I didn’t.”

“I’m glad you found the light at the end of the tunnel, kid. But that’s life, Y/N. You win some and you lose some.”

“Thank you, Jeff. Really. For being so supportive,” Y/N said in gratitude, as Jeff flashed her a toothy smile.

“Ah, don’t mention it...actually, it’s funny I ran into you because I was actually going to call you, but I… may have lost your number.” A sheepish hand ran through the short hair at the nape of his neck, and Y/N giggles at the man’s hesitancy.

“That’s okay. Here, I’ll write it down for you,” Y/N grinned as she took out a spare piece of paper and a pen from her bag, “what did you need to call me for?”

Jeff watched Y/N’s hands as she scribbled down her number. Her handwriting was neat, soft spirals decorating the ends of her letters. Playful, yet full of grace. Just like her, Jeff thought. “There’s a May Ball at Queen’s College in Oxford on the 18th, and I was wondering if you’d like to come. It’s outdoors, and it should be a nice day.”

As Y/N handed Jeff the piece of paper, he continued. “More importantly, a good friend of mine is attending, and I thought you would like to meet him. You two are pretty similar, so I think you’ll hit it off really well.”

“Do you mean that this meeting is supposed to be a sort of… romantic proposition?” Y/N tilted her head in playful confusion.

Jeff smirked. “Not necessarily. He’s friends with the rest of the guys, so it’s only fair that you meet him, since we consider you a part of our inner circle.”

Y/N grinned at his statement, shaking her head, a chuckle tumbling past her lips. “Well, for the record, Jeff, I’m retired from dating for a while,” she admitted, “the whole thing with Paul shook me up a bit, and I need time to trust again, y’know?”

“Yeah, I understand. But my friend is a nice bloke, so I don’t think you’ll have to worry too much, or put up a front. If you’re uncomfortable, of course we can—”

Charlie came running up to Y/N’s cart and placed the bags of broccoli and potatoes inside. He then stood next to Y/N to see this stranger that she was talking to. Jeff noticed the little boy who suddenly appeared next to Y/N, and smiled warmly. Pointing to the boy, and changing his voice to be a bit gentler than usual, he asked, “Who’s this, Y/N?”

“This is my little brother Charlie,” Y/N said, softly putting her hand on her brother’s back, bringing him to the forefront. Charlie widely smiled at Jeff, baring his childish grin that was missing a couple teeth. Charlie couldn't wait until they grew in, because it would “finally make him look like a real man”, as he exclaimed so often at home.

Jeff crouched down to Charlie’s level and stuck out his hand to shake Charlie’s. “Nice to meet ya, mate. I’m Jeff, a friend of your sister’s.”

Charlie’s eyes widened as he recognized who this man was. “Jeff Beck?” Charlie asked hopefully, “as in the guitar god, Jeff Beck?”

Jeff chuckled as he looked up at Y/N. “Is this the shit you’ve been feeding him?” Y/N nodded and laughed.

“There’s an ounce of truth in that statement, isn't there, Beck?”

“Yes, I’m Jeff Beck, but I’m just the lead guitarist for The Yardbirds. The guitar god title goes to Hendrix, or Scotty Moore,” Jeff explained. What a humble change of pace for Jeff, Y/N thought.

Jeff stood back up and walked with Y/N and her brother throughout the store, pushing their carts in sync and grabbing food as they went. He asked her about what she was up to musically, and she talked about how she was polishing up some Debussy and Rachmaninoff pieces, as well as fiddling around with some old Fats Domino and Everly Brothers records. Charlie and Jeff bonded over their love of cars, which made Y/N very happy.

~~~~~~~~

18th June 1966

The day of the May Ball came. Y/N was excited for the show, but she didn’t want a sour encounter with Paul to ruin her good time. Jeff had called her earlier in the week to give her instructions on what to do upon arrival, and how to access the backstage area safely.

The backstage area was a white tent with the sides covered. Inside, there were multiple long tables of different distinguished people, such as Mama Cass and Graham Nash. Alcohol and little finger foods littered the tables, served in such abundance that it seemed no one was going to see tomorrow.

Y/N walked over to where she saw her friends, and upon spotting the girl, they all waved and said their cheerful hellos. Y/N walked over to sit with them, and ended up taking a seat between Chris and Jeff, crossing her legs and folding her hands in a sophisticated manner, always the lady she was taught to be. She chose her seat at the table very carefully, sitting very far away from Paul Samwell-Smith.

As everyone chatted away, she noticed there was a tall, thin young man with short, dark wavy hair who sat down in a seat between Jeff and Keith, delicately holding a flute of champagne. He was looped back into the conversation immediately, as if he had known the band his whole life. When Y/N saw him, her heart stopped.

This new boy was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He looked like an English James Dean; with the kind of attractiveness that anyone, male or female, completely swooned over with a single glance. This stranger could get anything he wanted at the drop of a hat, with his gorgeous looks and his graceful countenance. He had a sullen, mysterious edge to him, but he also looked gentle and sweet at the same time. He had eyes as green as a forest full of lush deciduous trees, flawlessly framed by dark, bushy eyebrows and accented by long, thick eyelashes. His nose was adorable, petite as it was, and his lips were full and pouty. His smile and laugh made Y/N melt on the inside, his perfectly straight teeth illuminating his porcelain face.

For a moment, Y/N thought she was in love. She was pulled back from her daydream quickly, though, because Jeff realized that now was the perfect opportunity to introduce his two friends.

“Y/N, this is my friend Jimmy, who I was telling you about,” Jeff said, getting Y/N’s attention. Y/N grinned as she refocused on the situation.

Jimmy turned towards Jeff when he heard his name, and that’s when he saw the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, sitting right next to Jeff. Lucky bastard.

His breath hitched in his throat upon sight of this girl. She was perfect; she looked like an actual angel. The way her hair, soft-looking and slightly wispy in the light summer wind, cascaded down her shoulders; her doe-eyes seemed to twinkle in the dimming light of day, pulling him in like the strongest of currents. Her  pillowy, supple lips encased a perfect smile, slightly crooked. It was, like the rest of her, completely endearing.

It was then, looking at this beautiful woman, (Y/N… Jeff had said her name, hadn't he?) that Jimmy remembers he was taken. His girlfriend, Jackie DeShannon, was waiting for him at home, but he only had eyes for the girl in front of him, and it would stay that way, it seemed.. He had to get to know her.

Jimmy snapped out of his hypnosis in the nick of time. He softly smiled at Y/N, a smile that made Y/N’s insides lurch, holding out his hand for her to shake as he turned on the charm. “Jimmy Page,” he initiated, his voice being softer and more calming than Y/N expected.

Y/N shyly smiled at him, a dark pink flush gracing her natural complexion, as she reached out to grasp his hand. “Y/N Y/L/N. It’s so nice to finally meet you. Jeff has told me about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” Jimmy chuckled.

“Yeah, I’d say so,” Y/N beamed, a feigned contemplative look on her face.

“How do you know Jeff?” Jimmy asked, turning his body towards her, now fully invested in getting to know Y/N.

“I met him...a year ago I wanna say? Is that right, Jeff? At a Yardbirds gig at the Marquee,” Y/N asked for clarification. The last thing she wanted to do is lie about Jeff to Jimmy, even if it was something as insignificant as this. In addition, she wanted to use Jeff as a temporary crutch in the conversation. Jimmy’s beauty was making her feel shyer than she already was; she felt as if she was curling into herself.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Jeff intervened, “but she didn’t just meet me, she met the whole band.”

Jeff immediately noticed that the band was leaving the table to get ready to go on stage. Jimmy and Y/N didn’t even notice the table’s departure because they were so wrapped up in each other’s presence and words. Jimmy even moved a seat over to get closer to Y/N, although he said it was an attempt to “hear her better since the room was so loud of drunken buffoons”. Y/N had giggled at that, and it had sounded like music to the man’s ears. Jimmy was completely taken with her, as easy as it was to see.

“Wait, so how do you know Jeff?” Y/N asked curiously.

“I've known him since I was… gosh… thirteen or fourteen? We bonded over the guitar and blues. Indian music, too,” Jimmy grinned, taking a sip of his warming champagne.

“You play the guitar too?” Y/N gasped. Jimmy nodded his head enthusiastically.

“Oh jeez, I should’ve known! No wonder you’re tight with the Yardbirds,” she giggled.

Jimmy’s eyes twinkled at her now-flustered demeanor. “You’re okay, Y/N,” he chuckled, placing a hand gently on her forearm. Y/N felt her entire body break out into chills.

“I’m a session musician, actually,” he began, his hand lingering on the girl’s arm, for what seemed like a millennium to Y/N. “I’d hate to simplistically explain what a session musician is to someone like you if you already know what it is.” It sounded like he was holding back a bout of embarrassed laughter. “You must be quite intelligent, especially in matters of music, if Jeff has stuck by you for all this time.”

Y/N smiled bashfully. He’s so sensitive, she thought dreamily. “Yes, I know what a session musician is,” she giggled, “I’ve been a piano player all my life, so I know a thing or two about what you blokes are talking about when it comes to music.”

Jimmy’s heart began to thump a little faster as his smile widened. “Wow! That’s brilliant. Are you classically trained then?”

“Yes, but I do know quite a bit of blues numbers.”

“Oh, so you really know what you’re talking about! I have to admit, although I am a session musician, I’m not particularly good at reading music. Maybe you could teach me a few things about sight reading and we can jam some time?”

Y/N blushed as her lips pursed together in a grin. “I would love that. We’d have so much fun!” The way that Y/N’s full lips twisted together in a smile looked so damn kissable to Jimmy.

“My girlfriend was actually supposed to teach me music theory, but we never got around to it, unfortunately,” Jimmy continued.

“Ah, okay. Well, if you give me a time, date, and place, we can definitely make it work,” Y/N beamed.

“Wonderful!” An awkward, pregnant pause filled the space, and Y/N cleared her throat, unconsciously sliding closer to Jimmy. There was almost a magnetic pull to him, and Y/N was caught up in it.

“So, what’s it like being a session musician? I’m sure you get asked that all the time,” Y/N laughed.

Jimmy smiled. “It’s quite grueling, brutal at times, but I find it fulfilling. One mistake, and you’re fired, so it’s a lot of pressure.”

“Oh wow! That must be horrible to deal with.”

“Yeah, sometimes the pressure can really settle into you, but for me it dissipates once I’m in the booth. There’s three sessions a day, five days a week, so I don’t have much time for leisure. It’s been getting really dry lately since all I’m playing is rhythm guitar. I love experimentation and stretching out on lead guitar, so constant rhythm is getting quite annoying.”

“I understand where you’re coming from then, from a creative standpoint. How long have you been a session player?”

“Four years, roughly.”

“You must be quite dedicated then!” Y/N exclaimed, “who have you played with?”

“Oh gosh,” Jimmy exhaled deeply, calloused fingers raising to land on his chin. Slight stubble shadows it, and the sharp scent of aftershave wafted towards the girl. Lost in the scent, Y/N nearly missed his reply. “The Rolling Stones, The Kinks, Donovan, The Who, Petula Clark, Jackie DeShannon, Carter Lewis and the Southerners, Neil Christian and the Crusaders, Herman’s Hermits, Marianne Faithfull… just to name a few.”

“Wow! What a resumé!” she gushed, “That’s incredible. You should be so proud, Jimmy.”

“Thank you very much, love, I appreciate it.”

Suddenly, an announcer’s booming voice cut through Jimmy and Y/N’s conversation as he introduced the Yardbirds to the stage. As the five men walked on, Jimmy stood up from his chair.

“Come with me to the wings so we can see and hear them better,” he smiled, holding out his arm for Y/N to take. Y/N agreed, standing up and linking her arm with Jimmy’s as they walked in sync to the side of the stage.

The first few numbers were played perfectly, and it was clear that the audience (and even the road crew) were enchanted by the spectacle. Y/N knew from past shows that the next song would be “Train Kept A-Rollin’,” and she knew that they always knocked that one out of the park. It was always stimulating and explosive.

Jeff and Chris began the opening riff, the low E, G, and A notes thundering out of the monitors melodically. Just as Keith sang “got a train” on his cue, he fell straight backward and hit his head off Jim’s bass drum. Jimmy and Y/N’s jaws dropped in shock as a loud gasp echoed through the air from the audience. The music abruptly stopped as the rest of the band crowded around Keith’s fallen figure to see if he was alright. Murmurings of “fucking hells” were all that were spoken from the road crew as they tried to redeem the concert.

“He was drunk,” Jimmy whispered to Y/N giddily, “he was completely out to lunch and wobbling as he walked onstage.”

“I didn’t even notice,” Y/N replied quietly with a grin, “that definitely explains all the empty bottles and glasses on the table.”

Momentarily, Keith got back up and motioned for the band to restart “Train Kept A-Rollin’” and they finished the song without another mishap. The rest of the set was completed smoothly, and everything sounded sonically incredible. Jimmy and Y/N stood close together the entire time, Jimmy sneaking glances at Y/N from time to time. He lost his breath with the way her eyes were almost aglow in the fading light, and her soft-looking lips parted in childlike wonder as she watched the live music.

The Yardbirds came off the stage, begrudgingly making their way into the backstage tent, where Jimmy and Y/N had situated themselves. No one looked happy, especially Paul. Jeff had his usual stoic look, but he was rushing around for any alcoholic beverage he could find to ease his nerves after what could have been the worst possible scenario.

Everyone took a seat at the table where they were before the show. Jimmy and Y/N sat next to each other as they took in the distressed expressions of the five other men. Jeff was slumped in his chair, next to Jimmy, taking swigs of a beer he’d found. Jim and Chris just stared at the ground, drink in hand. Paul just looked royally pissed off, to the point that it almost scared Y/N. Keith, however, was still totally out of it in his drunken stupor.

“Hey, Jim,” Jeff said quietly to Jimmy, “look, you know, I’m really sorry about the gig. I’m sure you aren’t interested in joining the band now…”

“Oh no,” Jimmy chuckled, “that was amazing! Absolutely brilliant! I loved it.”

Y/N’s interest piqued as she heard their whispers of new information. “Wait! Jimmy’s joining the band? I thought there were only supposed to be five live Yardbirds,” she whispered.

Jeff leaned over Jimmy to whisper back to Y/N. “Oh yeah! I can’t believe I didn’t tell you this already. Paul is probably going to leave the group...and I think it might be sooner than we thought, especially after the whole Keith fiasco...Jimmy is going to take his place on bass, and hopefully he’ll take on dual lead guitar at some point. Then Chris will do bass,” Jeff’s eyes diverted to Paul, who was sitting with his arms crossed and face angry, staring off into space. Jimmy and Y/N followed Jeff’s line of sight mischievously.

“Oooh! Great plan,” Y/N smiled.

A little smirk creeped across Jeff’s face as he quietly counted down, “3...2...1…”

At the very prompt “1,” Paul abruptly stood up from his chair very loudly, capturing everyone’s attention.

“You know what? I’m done,” Paul exclaimed, stepping away from the chair as he pushed it in under the table.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Jim began, standing up from his own chair, “what do you mean ‘you’re done’? What the hell does that mean?”

Paul sneered at Jim. “What do you think I mean? I mean I’m done with this bullshit. I’ve had enough of the horrid travelling, not being noticed, and this drunk-off-his-ass bastard,” he exclaimed angrily, pointing at Keith.

“You need to relax, Sam,” Chris said gently, “look at everything we’ve accomplished over the last three years. You want to give that up? You’re losing your shit over one bad performance.”

“It’s been on my mind for a long time now, Chris. I fucking hate it,” Paul continued, anxiously running his hands through his hair, “and you know what? Y/N hanging around all the time has made it worse. She’s just here to be our fucking groupie. She’s only eating off our clout to be friends with famous people.” The entire table went silent, looking around nervously.

Y/N’s eyes widened at Paul’s awful accusation. “Are you serious?” she shot back coldly, “I knew you were an asshole, but I didn’t know it was this bad.”

“Oh what, you think I don’t recognize that that’s your motive?” Paul said condescendingly.

“If you think that being absolutely obsessed with you all is my sole hobby, my motive, whatever that means... you are sadly mistaken,” Y/N responded, her eyes closing to slits and her lips pressed together in disgust.

“You’re probably sleeping with Jim or Chris now for all I know!” he shouted, arms flailing in the air.

Y/N was fuming now, standing up from her own chair facing Paul. “How dare you make me seem like I’m a whore for the Yardbirds! Even if I was sleeping with Jim or Chris, that would be none of your business because you pursued me when you were fucking married, you dipshit.”

Paul’s maddening countenance grew. “You’re just an insecure little girl who needs famous musicians around her to validate her and make feel better about herself. You’re a fucking nuisance, like a gnat that just won’t fly away even when you swat at it again and again.”

Y/N gasped, the sound drowned out by the screech of metal against tile, as Jimmy stood up from his chair. He was distraught, upset at the antics between the two bitter exes, and stepped in front of Y/N to protect her from the horrible verbal blows served by Paul Samwell-Smith. Jeff beat him by a second, as he started to berate Sam for his little episode.

“You listen up, you wanker,” Jeff started, wagging his index finger in front of Sam’s face, “you’re just being a butthurt little bitch because Y/N found out that you were married. If anyone’s the whore here, it’s you. Y/N is our friend, even Jimmy’s now, and she takes care of us and makes us happy. She’s not just some whimsy, disposable groupie like the way you used her; she’s an intelligent, sweet, pretty girl who has our best interest at heart. And we have hers. You have to be a fucking idiot not to see that.”

Paul was taken aback. “I write, produce, and play bass for this group. All you do is play lead guitar. Trust me, Beck, I’m not the idiot here.”

“Well, your goddamn head isn’t screwed on straight, then,” Jimmy added, “I’ll be taking your place, thank you very much. And you will never mistreat Y/N on my watch. Ever. I’ve known her for about an hour, and she’s already absolutely magnificent.”

Y/N’s throat felt clenched, but some of the tension was relieved when she realized how protective Jimmy was being over her. As mad as she was, butterflies filled her stomach at his warm ways.

“I’m out of here! You all suck anyway. Have a nice trip to hell, all of you,” Paul said as he walked away to the road crew to get his belongings, flipping the people at the table off.

Y/N sat back down in her chair once Paul was out of sight, slouching and holding her cheeks with her hands as she blankly stared at the edge of the table. Jimmy and the four Yardbirds dragged their chairs closer to a saddened Y/N, who was determined to fight off the tears that threatened to roll down her fury-flush cheeks.

Jeff frowned at the state of his friend, starting to softly rub her cardigan-clothed back to console her. “I’m so sorry about Sam, Y/N. His behaviour was absolutely horrendous, and I can assure you, none of the things he said about you were even close to being true.”

Keith, still a bit drunk, stood up and walked over to Y/N, planting a peck on her cheek. “We’re so glad you’re here, dear. Truly. That belligerent little asshole can suck a fat one.”

A close-lipped smile found its way on Y/N’s lips. “Thanks Keith,” she chuckled.

“I’m going to go get you a cup of water, alright love?” Chris said as he stood up to walk over towards the bar.

“Thank you so much Chris,” she called after him. Chris flashed her a kind smile as he walked away.

I guess Mum and Dad were wrong...they really do care about me, Y/N thought happily, they really, truly do.

~~~~~~~~

After the May Ball was over, and the sky was growing darker with the coming evening, Jimmy and Y/N walked around the grounds of the venue together, talking about anything and everything and sharing laughs.

The lighthearted mood took a drastic shift at one of Jimmy’s followup questions.

“So, Y/N, if you don’t mind me asking, what was the whole row between you and Sam about?”

Y/N flashed a sad smile, but it quickly faded as she took a deep exhale. “Well—”

Panicked, Jimmy took this as a cue that she didn’t want to talk about it. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I get it because of how heated it was. I’m just worried about you, is all,” he interrupted.

“No, it’s okay. Really. I trust you,” she replied with a pursed lip-smile. Jimmy returned the sentiment, internally relieved that Y/N had already seemed to take a liking to him.

“Alright, so about a year or so ago, I went to a Yardbirds gig at the Crawdaddy Club, a few months after I met the band for the first time. Paul asked me out after that show, and nobody told me he was married, so naturally, I accepted.”

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, love. What a shitty thing to do, especially to someone as wonderful as you,” Jimmy replied with a little flush, giving the girl a little rub on the small of her back.

Heat rippled throughout Y/N’s body at his touch. Regaining her composure, she sighed. “Thank you Jimmy. That means a lot. More than you know, actually.”

After a short silence, Y/N continued. “We went out for about eight months...and in retrospect, it now makes sense why I could never go over to his place. But anyway, I found out about it before the band played on Ready, Steady, Go in February. Keith, Jeff, Jim, and I were all talking at the front of the stage before rehearsals and it slipped.”

“Who ended up telling you?”

“Jim, but it was purely an accident.” Suddenly, all of the events that had happened between her and Jim guiltily flooded her mind. Now with Jimmy beginning to infiltrate her mind and cloud her vision, how was she supposed to genuinely enjoy the secrecy? Ah shit, she thought, here we go again.

“After the show, I confronted him about it,” Y/N continued, “and he was blaming me for our time together, a-and for ‘tempting’ him into asking me out just by being… me?”

“He seems like a right wanker, I can tell you that for sure,” Jimmy muttered, sliding his hand from its resting place on her back, to her shoulder, squeezing it lightly in solidarity. Y/N met his eyes then, tears filling her gaze, and Jimmy frowns. No one as lovely as her should be feeling this way. He smiles at her, and to Y/N, it is filled with comfort and appreciation. Some emotion… something akin to love, perhaps, lit a fire in her chest, and she looks away. The evening ambience does nothing to hide the traitorous blush that painted her cheeks.

“It’s getting quite dark out, love. How did you get here?” Jimmy asked, stealing another glance at a girl as she looked down at her ballet flats once more.

“I took the train, actually,” Y/N replied.

“Oh, so did I! Here, I’ll walk with you over to the station then.”

Y/N grinned at him. “That’s so kind of you, Jimmy. Thank you.”

“No problem, love. What’s your stop?” Jimmy asked as they began to make their way over to the station.

“St. Alban’s. How about you?”

“Epsom. I still live with my parents, I’m afraid,” he chuckled sheepishly.

“Oh, it’s okay!” she laughed with him, “so do I. It’s nice though, to still live with your parents… home-cooked meals and laundry and all. Plus sleeping in your own bed, and using your own bathroom, of course.”

“Those are very good points,” Jimmy agreed with a chuckle.

The two boarded the train once they got to the station, only waiting on the platform for a few minutes. They continued to talk all the way to St. Albans, where Y/N got off to walk home.

“Say you’ll see me again sometime soon, Y/N,” Jimmy half-asked, half-declared as she stood up to get off the train.

Y/N grinned at him. “I definitely will, Jimmy. It was so nice meeting you tonight...I loved getting to know you.”

“The feeling is mutual, love. Please stay safe and take care of yourself, okay?” he reached out his hand to grab Y/N’s, shaking it a little and smiling at her. Y/N nearly swooned at the gesture.

“I’ll try my best. You do the same as well. Have a good night!”

“Thank you, you too!” Jimmy waved as Y/N walked out the train’s doors. Her scent, a delicious mixture of vanilla with a hint of laundry detergent, lingered in the air as she passed by, weakening him both physically and his rational judgment.

He had a lot of thinking to do on the ride home.

————

Taglist: @blood-on-blood @reincarnated70sbaby

[suchalonelysunflower]

Between The Stone And The Sword (c.h)

Where The Roses Bloom - Chapter 6

Pairing: Stable Lad! Calum Hood x Princess! Reader

Summary: Conversations are held and secrets are uncovered while you are left to wonder Calum’s state after the beating.

Warnings: Angst. Drama. Mentions of violence, abuse, death, humiliations, alcohol. Language. Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word Count: 6.8 k

Author’s Note: I do hate Richard so much. The next chapter is the official ending and then comes the epilogue! Stay tuned ❤️ Remember that Reblogs, Feedback, Comments and Likes are very important! You don’t know how much they help me 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋✨🌻

My materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

Series Materialist || prologue || chapter one || chapter two || chapter three || chapter four || chapter five || chapter seven || epilogue

You spent hours looking at the bruise in your arm. It was a bright purple mixed with spots of blue and green. It reminded you of the drawings of galaxies you studied as a kid.

Your tutor used to tell you stories about how the world was born out of a star, and that every single being is made of stardust and we are all born to be stars. The problem is that some of them burn out too bright and they won’t even make it to sunset.

Now, you were sure your fire had burned as you found no will to get up from your bed. You lost everything. You lost him.

You wanted to stay at the tree, to let the gods take you at that moment after seeing Calum being dragged away by your father’s guards. You remembered how Ashton tried to get you up, but you kept weeping as you held tight to the patches of grass underneath your fingers. The grass that was tinted with his blood and yours. In the end, Ashton had to carry you back to the palace once you passed out from exhaustion.

The nurses in the infirmary didn’t ask questions as they gave you some healing beverages and covered up your wounds. Still, you were thankful they told your father that you needed a few days' rests before moving on with the wedding plans and he had no choice but to accept. Even though he was the one who caused the wounds, he didn't need the kingdom to know what kind of man he was when seeing his daughter’s bruises and cuts.

Three more days is what he gave you. Three days where you would allow yourself to grieve the loss you suffered.

You didn’t know where Calum was, or if he was okay or even if he was alive. All you knew since you woke up is that the sun has set upon your room. At this time you were supposed to be married, you were supposed to be sailing away to the Northern Kingdoms. You were supposed to be happy instead of this empty feeling of nothingness.

Now everything was ruined. You were forced to marry a man that loves another while your heart is still uncertain about your lover’s condition. You were going to be taken away and paraded around like some kind of puppet, impossible to get out of the strings your father cursed upon you.

You just lost everything.

You turned to your side and cringed at the pain you felt under your ribs. Still, you managed to get out of bed and walk towards the window you forgot to close before you raced to the old tree where Calum was waiting.

The memory of that forged letter burned at the back of your mind as you thought just how stupid you were for ever believing it. You let yourself trust too much and lost yourself in the plan, just hoping that it would’ve turned out perfectly. How naive of you.

“You shouldn’t be on your feet” You heard Ashton said softly as he opened the door. But you didn’t turn to look at him.

“I shouldn’t be here at all”

Ashton fiddled with his hands, looking up and then down and then to you, giving your back to him as you stared out the window while your arms wrapped around yourself and started to softly run your hands over your arms.

If you turned around you could see the desperation in his eyes, the utter sadness that took over him since the moment he witnessed the fateful scene. He was too late when he got there; your father had already captured you and Calum and there was nothing he could do about it.

He tried to find the right words to say to you, but his mouth remained dry with unsaid apologies that would later find their place, right now he needed to be the big brother he knew you needed but didn’t get.

“I should’ve left when he told me to”

Your voice was weak, raspy, and childlike at the same time, bearer of grief that you didn’t want to talk about. The tears were already running down your face silently, falling into the stone and creating dark circles that grew with your sadness.

Ashton felt as if his heart was wrapped in thorns that sunk deeper while hearing the sound of your voice. You should’ve never been this broken, he shouldn't have allowed it, and yet he is now standing there watching how the pieces of you fall and break like crystal.

“I thought we would be okay. I really thought that this could all be over…” You turned to Ashton and you saw how he took a step back, eyes glossy as he took you in “Why isn’t it over?”

Whoever was standing in front of Ashton was not you. This person had bags under her eyes, bruises all over her arms, and a sadness that could make every god look at her with pity and compassion. It was almost as if he was seeing you for the first time in a long time; you were skinnier, fragile-looking with your white nightgown and your hair falling freely down your back, your eyes were never-ending waterfalls as every tear that ran down your cheek was followed by three more, but you didn’t even make a sound.

You were a ghost from the person he once knew. The person he saw die and did nothing to prevent it.

“Did you see him?” You asked in a small voice, looking at him with hope hidden behind your eyes.

Ashton didn’t know if he should lie, but after seeing how you were looking at him, he swore at that moment never to lie to you again.

“No,” He said, almost whispering. He looked disappointed, but you were heartbroken. “They took him to the dungeon, that’s all I know” He added when seeing your trembling lip “At least we know that he is alive”

Your mind kept going back and forward with the image of when you last saw him being dragged out of the woods; unconscious, bleeding, beaten… He’s alive but for how long?

A silence fell over the two of you. You hugged yourself tighter and Ashton pretended not to notice as he searched for something that could give you some kind of comfort, but that was not an easy task. You can still smell the grass coated in crimson red, feel the dirt under your fingernails and feel your heart jump in your throat as you called his name. It was a pathetic sight and a desperate one. A sight that neither you nor Ashton would ever forget.

“How could this happen?” You asked in a whisper, breaking the silence in a heart-wrenching question neither of you had the answer to.

Ashton felt the sob that escaped your mouth as if it were his own, he tried to take a step towards you but you took one back.

“Y/N…” He tried, but you backed up again. Your eyes were filled with tears as you looked down at his boots, wincing as you felt the pain of your father’s kicks come back again.

“How could this happen, Ashton?” You asked again, addressing him directly as your eyes avoided his.

“I- I don’t know, I-” He stuttered, noticing how you started to shake and press your hands to the side of your ribs “Y/N, is your wound-?”

He walked towards you with firm steps, forgetting for a moment that the distance between the two of you was something much deeper than just physical.

“Don’t touch me!” You yelled when you saw him approach. But Ashton did not listen, he stood by your side and caught you in his arms when your knees started to tremble, too weak to make you stand any longer.

You fell into his chest, sobbing as he held you just in time before your knees hit the ground. Ashton sat next to you, cradling you on his lap as you gripped his shirt tightly, his hands running up and down your back at a soothing pace, just like he did when you were children and he took the role of the parent as his own.

His fingers graced your side and you hissed, he immediately took his hands away in order not to make any more damage.

“Can I see?” He asked softly.

You pulled away from him letting your teary eyes meet his hazel ones, an indescribable emotion set on them as you nodded softly.

You sat up straighter, letting him help you get on your feet and walk towards the bed as you set yourself at the end of it with your brother by your side.

With your consent, Ashton started to lift the hem of your nightgown, letting you cover your legs with a blanket as he reached your waist and stomach. You felt how his movements came to a halt when he saw what was there.

A black and blue bruise took over most of the sides of your ribs and waist. Ashton saw the bruise expand with every breath you took, knowing it might hurt to breathe at this moment as well; you had scraps all over your body, red skin showing and burning with every move, threatening to bleed again at the minimum touch.

“The green ones don’t hurt anymore,” You told him in a whisper referring to the green spots that covered some spots that the other colors couldn’t reach “Those are the old ones”

“The what?!” He snapped, horrified at the confession.

Ashton put the nightgown down, kneeling in front of you so he could see your face but you were already looking at the floor, ashamed that he had to see you like that.

“This… this has happened before” He wasn’t asking and your nodding only confirmed it “When? Who?!”

“It started a few months ago when you left for the Southern Islands,” You started, still not looking at him but at your hands intertwined in your lap. Ashton placed his hands over yours, squeezing them softly to give you strength to continue “We were supposed to have dinner together that day and I wanted to wear a dress that belonged to mom… It was her birthday, you know? But father didn’t like it”

The memories ran through your head as it happened yesterday. The rage behind your father’s eyes was apparent the moment he sat his glare on you, ordering everyone to leave the room and leave the two of you alone.

It didn’t matter that your intentions were innocent, you were actually excited to use one of your mother’s old gowns now that you were able to fit in them without having to make any alterations. You wanted to honor your mom’s spirit, but your father saw that as an insult to her memory.

“He asked me to take it off right there but I refused to be naked in the middle of the castle with no way to go back to my room. He got angry… God, Ash, I’ve never seen him so angry before”

The insults he threw at you sounded like soft lullabies compared with the first blow he threw at your face. The sound of his ring-cladding hand smacking against your cheek made echoed throughout the room, but he was not satisfied as he continued to hit you and pull on your hair, demanding you take that dress off.

Your father threw his goblet of wine at you, ruining the dress with the red stains as he laughed. You felt humiliated and ran from the room, dinner forgotten as you tried to escape your father’s cruelty.

“Calum found me by the old tree that night, he asked me to run away with him so my father could not hurt me anymore,” You said with a broken voice “I should’ve listened”

“How many times-?”

“I didn’t want you to go on all those travels just because I missed you, Ash”

Ashton’s eyes widened in horror at the words you spoke. You could see he was doing the math of how many times he left since that first trip and how long he was gone while you…

“I’m going to kill him,” He said “I’m going to fucking kill him”

Ashton clenched his jaw, the knuckles in his hands turning white as his breathing became elaborated. You could see every vein pop out in his neck and his eyes just screamed in rage as he tried to control himself while he was still with you. It was not the same look he gave to you all those weeks ago; no, this one had actual hatred behind it.

“Ash-'' You tried, but he was already getting up from his place on the floor in front of you “Ash! Where are you going”

“To give daddy dearest a talk,” He said in between his teeth, clenching his fists at his side.

Panic started to rise in your heart, jumping off of your bed and running towards him before he could even leave the room. You grabbed him by the arm, squeezing his bicep and pulling him slightly back inside the room, hissing at the movement.

Ashton turned to you harshly, making you take a step back. The look in his eyes softened when he saw you standing there, but his body was still tense as he gripped the doorknob till his whole hand turned white.

“Y/N-“ He started, trying to get you back to bed and to stay there.

“You are not going anywhere” Your voice was strong despite having been crying all day.

“He can’t just-!”

“And what are you going to do Ash!? Put yourself on a silver plate so his guards could back him up?!”

Ashton rolled his eyes “He is not going to do that!”

“What makes you think he won’t?” You asked with a raised brow “Just because you’re his son? Ashton, I’m his daughter! And that never spotted him before. You know what he’s capable of, you’ve seen what happened in the woods. You saw how he ordered the guys to practically murder the love of my life in front of us. Do you think he will care if you stand up to him?!”

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, reflecting on the words that just came out of your mouth.

“I don’t want to lose you, too,” You said barely above a whisper “Not when I already lost him”

Ashton’s demeanor softened when he saw you show some vulnerability again. He let go of the doorknob and wrapped his arms around you, carefully enough not to cause any more friction that could cause you pain. You felt his heart beat strongly, still very caught up in his emotions, so you hugged him tighter.

“You didn’t lose him, Y/N/N,” Ashton said in a sigh “Calum will be okay”

You felt yourself starting to break down again. You thought about how many times you cried over him, mourning him because you knew that might be the only way of letting him go even if you didn’t want to.

Calum fought for you. He stood up to your father, to his King, for you. He called your name over and over again and you couldn’t answer him, you failed him. You failed him and he was the one apologizing.

“I’m sorry, my rose” were the last words he said to you. If only you could tell him that this wasn’t his fault. That you’re the one who's sorry because your father was right…

“This is all my fault”

The tears were rolling down your cheeks again, burning you with shame and grief.

“If I hadn’t suggested the idea of looking for ways to get out of that marriage. If I would’ve been more careful with our meetings. If I would’ve said yes when he asked me to run with him. If I hadn’t told him that I loved him… if I hadn’t been so weak then maybe Calum would still be free and happy. I caused this, I sentenced him because I was too selfish for loving him”

Ashton placed his hands on your shoulders, pushing you away slightly as he looked into your eyes.

“You are the strongest and bravest person I know, Y/N,” He said “You loved him despite what everyone told you, you fought for your love and did everything you could to make sure you two would survive this. What happened wasn’t your fault… It was mine”

You noticed how Ashton’s gaze graced the floor, unable to look at your face as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“If I had known… God, Y/N, I had no idea you loved him. If I knew you were in love I would’ve never pushed you to marry King Luke. I would’ve helped you get out of here or find a way to break the deal… I could’ve stopped father from doing this to you” He lamented, brushing his finger over the bruise in your arm “But I was so blind to all of it. I thought you didn’t want to marry Luke just because he was a stranger, I couldn't comprehend why you were being so stubborn, why you hated me and now everything is clear”

“I never hated you, Ashton” You admitted.

“But you didn’t trust me. And it’s okay, I get why you felt like you couldn’t. I was an idiot and I should’ve never said the things I said”

You placed one hand on his cheek, lifting his chin just a little bit so you could look at him in the eyes. At that moment you swore Ashton looked younger, almost as if he became a child again and was being comforted by his mother. You thought about all the times you found yourselves in the same position but with the roles reversed and wondered how much he might’ve hurt in the past without having anyone to give him some kind of comfort.

Ashton felt somewhat ashamed to look at you. His eyes held truth, fear, and regret as he couldn’t comprehend why you were being so kind to him even when he played a part in your unhappiness.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N/N” The young prince whispered “I didn’t know how bad things were until that afternoon when I came to apologize and found the snow globe next to your bed. I didn’t want to believe you were gone but… I guess that would’ve been the best outcome for this situation”

“Is that why you came looking for me?” Ashton nodded “Oh god- I thought you were the one who-“

“Who told father?” He asked in disbelief, shaking his head “I could never do that to you, Y/N. Your happiness means the world to me and if you found that happiness with Calum, then what say do I have in that? All I wanted to do was protect you, I just- I guess I didn’t realize you could protect yourself”

You pulled away from your brother, wrapping your arms around yourself again.

“I don’t know how anyone could protect me when the danger lives under the same roof as I”

Ashton shook his head “That is not the only thing you should be careful with”

“What do you mean?”

Suddenly, heavy footsteps were heard outside the door. Ashton immediately pushed you behind him, getting himself in position as his hand rested over the handle of the sword he took from your father, ready to unsheathe it at any moment.

The door opened forcefully, with Michael panting at the other side as he frantically looked for you.

“Princess!” He called breathlessly “You need to come with me, now!”

“What’s going on?” Ashton asked, putting his blade away.

Michael’s green eyes looked desperate and sorrowful.

“The trial,” He said “They are putting Sir Hood through trial in front of the court”

*

The sound of your stomps could be heard from all over the palace. You ran as fast as you could with Ashton and Michael trailing behind you. You didn’t even care about changing your clothes, throwing a silk robe over your nightgown before sprinting out of the room with the thought of Calum being in trouble.

“King Richard asked Luke to be part of the sentence” Michael filled you in with the last events that took place without your knowledge as you ran to the throne room “He claims that Sir Hood plotted for your kidnapping before the wedding”

“And what does Luke have to do with all of this?” Asked Ashton, enraged.

“It’s another punishment,” You said confidently “He wants me to hate him because he condoned Calum. He wants me to hate the person I’m supposed to marry”

All trials were held in the throne room, the only room in the whole castle that could fit a crowd of thousands while still putting the King on a pedestal and asserting their authority in front of the whole court.

You’ve participated in trials before, hiding in the back with Ashton or Calum as you watched poor souls being judged in front of your father, who was as merciless as usual and enjoyed the punishments he dictated on people, innocent or not. Trials allowed him to be brutal and cruel in front of an audience in a way in which it was completely legal and no one could go against him.

Your heart was beating loudly with every step you took, praying that you weren’t too late and hoping you could stop him.

Calum would be at your father’s unexisting mercy, unable to defend himself before the King “They should have given him more time” You thought, not knowing Calum’s state after the beating. For all you know, if he wasn’t dead then he would be soon and he’d probably still be unconscious. Your father would take advantage of that for sure, making his power known in the most unjust way possible.

You took the shortcuts, everyone was already at the trail so no one dared to stop you as you sprinted your way into hallways and passages that most people haven’t even heard of, soon appearing at the right corner of the throne room through a door hidden behind red curtains with roses painted on them with gold streams.

King Richard sat on his throne with the rose crown placed over his head as the symbol of his power and a smile so cruel it gave you shivers just by looking at it. He still didn’t take the rings he had on when he hit you, in fact, he was wearing them proudly as if they were his own little secret.

Luke was standing next to him - just like every other member of the court - standing straight as a statue while surrounding the King and enabling his power. But while everyone looked at the center of the room, the Young King of the Vail had his eyes wander around the room, surely searching for Michael among the crowd.

And, as your fiancé searched for his beloved, you did the same. You felt your breathing calming down as you realized that Calum was not in the room, feeling relieved at the thought you got there early.

“He knows he’s innocent, right?” You asked Michael “Luke knows Calum is innocent”

Michael nodded, looking straight ahead at Luke. You could tell he was nervous as his crystal green eyes become glossy with worry, he didn’t trust your father, and the thought of being so far away from his King while he is at a close distance with a possible enemy made him anxious.

“My King knows to trust the stable lad, but I’m afraid your father might coax him into thinking otherwise”

Both, you and Ashton stared at Michael with confused expressions. Michael continued.

“You are not the only ones who King Richard doesn’t trust, Your Highnesses. The crow I heard today, Princess? It was not meant for you, but it was meant for me”

“The crow?”

“Spies” Ashton finished Michael’s thoughts “Father has spies all over the Kingdoms, Y/N. He calls them crows because no one ever suspects how lethal they could be until the time comes to attack”

Michael nodded “The King is planning something with them. He cannot be trusted”

“And you knew about all of this?” You asked your brother, he looked ashamed.

“I knew about the crows. In my travels, my tasks not only consisted in forming and securing alliances,” He admitted “But to plant the crows in every Kingdom as well”

You took a step back, horrified by Ashton’s confession as you placed a hand over your beating heart.

“I didn’t know that I was doing it!” Ashton soon excused himself “Father told me they were liabilities; he never told me what he was planning. I never connected the dots until he announced to us your sudden engagement”

“What does that have to do with anything here?!” You asked, feeling dizzy with all this new information.

“We still don’t know,” Michael interjected “But ever since we came I’ve been doing some research on the King’s motives, guess I have to thank you for giving us so much unsuspected time in the library, Princess. But I guess that they found out pretty quickly, that’s why they sent the crow to me”

“We might not know, but it’s not hard to guess either” Said Ashton with a serious tone “Think about it; Father sends spies all over the neighboring Kingdoms from the West and the South, even when their alliances were sworn as well as their loyalties to it. There was only one Kingdom that could not seal the deal before, an Eastern Kingdom in which the crow disappeared before he could assure the alliance…”

“The Vail”

Ashton nodded “That’s one of the reasons why I wanted you to go there. He still has no power there. The Vail is the most powerful Kingdom in the East, having the biggest and strongest army that the Earth has ever known; every King would be jealous of it and seek to have it for themselves. Now, how do you obtain an alliance that powerful that could give you some sort of power over the army as well as the loyalty of their monarch?”

Both, you and Michael stared at Ashton, astonished by the realization of your father’s plans. Michael let out a curse under his breath as you tried to wrap your head around it. He was willing to give you away for an army?

“But he will not have control of the army if I marry Luke” You tried to reason “Besides, why would he even want an army that big, anyway?”

Ashton’s gaze broke your heart, he looked as sorry as you did.

“Y/N, father is preparing for war”

The words you were ready to say got caught up in your throat at the sounds of the horns, ready to announce the next convict, making the three of you pay attention to the center of the room where Willsburg stood with a large parchment, reading from it to the entire court.

“The Court of Roses and Your Majesty, King Richard, fourth of his name, call the next prisoner in row to trial” The voice of the page resonated through the walls “Please present yourself, Sir Calum Thomas Hood from The Palace of RoseWood”

The big wooden doors opened and you felt as if you might faint. Your heart was beating violently inside your chest, begging for a way out of the pain as you heard the shackles drag against the marbled floor at a slow and agonizing pace, still unable to see his face for he was still too far away.

It wasn’t fair that they made him walk in his state. It wasn’t fair for him to be here at all.

All around the room you could hear distant murmurs about what happened. Some people would whisper about how the stable lad kidnapped the princess in her sleep; others claimed that they saw him taking the princess in a bag, while others praised the King because he was the one who rescued his daughter from the hands of this evildoer.

All lies. They were all lies. But your father twisted the story again, making it impossible for others to believe otherwise.

You held your breath with every step you heard Calum take, reaching for Ashton’s arm to hold on to it as you felt as if your knees might not be able to stop shaking. You knew he was in bad shape; the last time you saw him he was practically dead before your eyes, so you tried to stay strong for him. But nothing could prepare you for when he finally stepped into your line of view.

A sob died in your throat as you placed your hand over your mouth, silencing it before it even began. Your eyes filled with tears that quickly started rolling down your cheeks as you felt how Ashton and Michael tried to catch you before you fell.

The sight of him was more painful than you could ever imagine.

Calum stood there in front of your father. His white shirt was covered in his, now, dried blood. The pants he wore that day seemed more like rags as they were ripped from the knees down, leaving his scrapes and wounds open for everyone to see.

You wonder if they sent a doctor down to the dungeons when he arrived. His wounds seemed to be covered, but not healed. The sides of his face were swollen and both his eyes had black and blue spots around them. The cuts he had on his face did not bleed, but they seemed raw at the sight, and they would probably open easily if someone were to touch them.

He was almost unrecognizable if it weren’t for those brown eyes you loved your whole life. Even when beaten, those eyes still fought for you and prayed for just one look from your eyes before he passed out. You dreamt and loved those eyes for so long you couldn’t imagine a life without them, and, even now, they still looked as beautiful as ever.

His hands and bare feet were trapped in chains, manacles, and shackles, but he was still standing, straighter and braver than ever, before your father. Calum would never coward before him, would never give him the satisfaction to see him on his knees, defeated. Not after what he’s done.

Calum defied your father with his stance, any fool in the court could see it. Most prisoners beg on their knees for forgiveness, but Calum was still standing. For him, it didn’t matter how much it hurt to stand, or how the iron of his restraints drugged into his skin, scraping his flesh raw. He will never kneel before a man who would hit a woman.

However, your father did not take that as an insult, on the contrary, he seemed very amused by Calum’s act of rebellion.

“Sir Hood. You are accused of kidnapping and plotting against the crown” King Richard’s voice reverberated through the whole room, making everyone stay in silence as he spoke, “How do you declare yourself?”

You counted the seconds for his answer, holding your breath with every beat of your heart.

Calum held his head high, but he didn’t say a word.

“Cat got your tongue, horseman?” The King let out an obnoxious laugh and soon enough the rest of the court followed, too scared to go against it.

Luke stood there with his mouth shut, looking at Calum with pleading eyes. They all knew how the situation would go if he didn’t say anything.

But Calum ignored the Young King’s stare, choosing to look straight ahead with utter hatred at the King he once was taught to respect.

“So,” Your father continued “Am I wrong to assume that you kidnapped my daughter from her room and were planning to take her away from the Kingdom days before her wedding?”

Still, not a word. Your father was getting impatient.

“Are you in love with her, boy?” He teased in a mocking tone “Is the stable boy in love with the little princess?” Calum clenched his jaw at the comment, making the King smile “Awww, isn’t that just sweet? The stable lad and the princess! What a beautiful fairy tale, isn’t it? Too bad it’s all in your head, boy”

People were laughing at Calum, mocking him and pointing at him and the fact that he was being humiliated in front of everyone. You stood there with your fists clenched to your sides, knuckles turning white at the thought of making every single one of those people pay for your pain. You were sure that if it weren’t for Ashton holding you back by the shoulders, you would’ve been standing right in the middle of the room next to Calum.

“You really think she could love you? You, a poor stable lad without titles nor riches? Maybe that’s why you tried to take her away from me, her beloved father” The King placed a hand over his heart, playing the part of a loving father a little too amateur compared to his other acts “What poor excuse of a man you are. Thinking you could win her love by-”

“I think this has gone too far for two men who know the truth. Don’t you agree, Your Majesty?”

Calum’s voice was not loud, it was hoarse and damaged but still strong enough to answer.

Everyone in the court stood silent, even the King who looked at Calum with curiosity and rage behind his eyes.

“So he speaks…” He said, “And what’s that truth you talk about, boy?”

“Don’t…” You whispered under your breath, praying to every god there is to have mercy on him. “Please, please don’t”

“The truth is that you’re a coward, Your Majesty” Calum stated, making everyone in the room - including the three of you that were still hidden behind the curtain, gasp.

“Oh, shit,” Michael said, representing all your thoughts in one simple utterance.

“The truth is that you sit in your throne all high and mighty when in reality you are afraid of a dress. You are scared of a past and a future you know won’t come your way because you, you sick son of a bitch, don't deserve it. The truth is that you abuse the ones who are under you, even the ones who held your titles with more honor than yourself. You are a bully that enjoys making people suffer.

You abuse your powers and titles and then parade yourself as a hero when you and I both know you are far from one. How dare you stand there and act all innocent when you were the one who laid hands on your daughter and made her bleed countless times just for your entertainment?

How is that not the truth, Sir?”

The room erupted in gasps and murmurs, all talking about the King and how this man dared to call on him that way, not even addressing him properly and insulting his name.

“Is he telling the truth?”

“King Richard would never, would he?”

“The Princess always looked scared when she was around him, it must be true!”

“He hits his daughter? The King?”

“Who is this man anyway?”

“Such a disgrace for the crown…”

“Enough!” King Richard shouted, silence falling over the court and guests.

Your father stood from his throne. Eyes filled with untamed rage at Calum’s words. With one simple statement, he was capable of turning the whole court into a shitshow, people were taking sides and talking about their King as a joke.

But he was still the King and he was going to make sure everyone knew that.

“Blasphemy!” He shouted, pointing his finger at Calum who stood proudly before him, still not caving nor surrendering. “You insolent peasant don’t know what you’re talking about! You conspired against the crown, do you deny it?”

Calum’s chest raised when he took a deep breath.

“I deny it,” He said loud enough for everyone to hear “I never conspired against the crown, I only conspired to have the engagement of the Princess and King Hemmings annulled”

A wave of gasps was heard all over the room again, but this time all eyes laid on Luke, as he stood awkwardly with an emotionless expression. This was no news to him and he had no intention of showing surprise.

“You kidnapped the Princess, do you deny it?”

“I deny it. I asked for her hand in marriage, she accepted. She left willingly with me so we could escape the Kingdom and its abusive King. I only tried to save her”

Tears rolled down your cheeks and to the floor. All he ever did was try to protect you, to keep you safe and you couldn’t do the same for him.

If it wasn’t for you, neither of you would be in this situation.

“You love the princess, do you deny it?”

You knew that was a cruel play from him trying to humiliate Calum again. But Calum smiled.

“I don’t deny it,” He said “I would never deny my love for Y/N. I would declare my love for her to every god there is and still, that would not be enough. She is everything I have and everything I need and I’m lucky to love her and to be loved by her. That’s something you could never understand and I pity you for that”

You felt your feet moving on their own towards him, trying to reach him and be consumed by him. But Ashton's grip tightened around you, making you stay in your spot, unmoving and unable to do anything.

“Don’t” He whispered “They can’t know we are here, Y/N. They will lock you up as well”

You knew he was right; if your father sees you he would command the guards to take you to your room and forbid anyone to come in or out of there until the day of your wedding. And, even though you were willing to risk it, you knew neither Ashton nor Michael would let you do something so reckless.

But before you could try and fight him for it, the laugh of your father interrupted your every thought.

“Isn’t that just adorable? Too bad love can’t save you this time, boy” He said with a sinister smile “Sir Calum Hood, I declare you-”

“Wait!”

The King turned to his side, a questioning look on his face as he stared at Luke with disdain.

But the Young King didn’t cower, instead, he stood straighter and looked at your father straight in the eyes.

“We haven’t deliberated, Your Majesty” Luke said as politely as he could, gaining the approving murmurs of the court.

Your father was fuming.

“Sir Hood presented his statement” Luke continued “He denied the accusations and provided his own countercase. The court must take that into account before declaring any sentence”

Luke spoke clearly, like a King. You noticed how Michael’s chest raised with pride and adoration. He was giving Calum a chance.

“I’ve taken Sir Hood’s statements into account and I’ve decided to ignore it” Your father then claimed, taking a step closer to Luke who was almost as tall as he was. Still, he stood his ground.

“What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

“What happened to respect your elders and your superiors?!” King Richard shouted in Luke’s face.

“Superior?!”

“Sit the fuck down, boy” Your father spat at him “This is my Kingdom and you have no power here. You are swearing to me after you marry my daughter so fucking watch and learn how a real King deals with their subordinates”

The room fell silent, all witness of how the King of RoseWood degraded the King of the Vail, no one dared to move a muscle as the King turned back to Calum with a devilish smirk.

Your chest felt heavy with anticipation, not being able to take your eyes away from Calum as you stood there helplessly with Ashton holding you by the arms and Michael ready to take you away the moment the King declared his sentence.

“Sir Hood. I found you guilty of all charges”

The murmur of the people grew around you as you were starting to lose sight the more dizzy you got all of a sudden.

Calum stood straight, waiting for the sentence with his head held high. You wanted to scream, tell him to run while he still could. Beg your father for mercy... but all you could do was stand there and watch how they kill you while still being alive.

This can’t be happening.

“I, King Richard of RoseWood, sentence you to death by hanging”

*

*

tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @notinthesameguey @bubblegum18 @irwin-fletcher-ash @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @1980holland @wiiildflowerrr @hoplessromantic727 @fivesecondsofonedirection @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @dudethisiswhyyoudonthavefriends @major5sosstan @myloverboyash @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore @the-ghost-of-luke @alltimesos @girlwhosimps @wontlastimokwiththat @ttinahood @yeah-and69 @fckingpernico @multistann @averageantichrist @a-darneddarling @tpwkcth @f-mu @kindahumanbutalsoinsane @floweronyourskin @ihavenoideawhattodowithyou

[chunhua-s]

im gonna CRY, this is like the 3rd time im sending this: OKAY-- ushijima <33 and a royalty au maybe? whether he's the loyal knight or loving king, i will take anything <33 ily davi ur so cool and btw ur handwriting is SEXC

i’m putting the note at the end because really? they clog a lot of space 🧍🏽‍♀️

YOURS ➽ WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA X READER

genre: angst

au: royalty, time travel

warnings: uh nothing went as i planned for in this oneshot and i’ve hurt myself with it enough to the point of a headache :D

when you open your eyes, you’re greeted by the night sky, though there’s something about it that gives you pause. the stars above you aren’t the same ones from your city — the ones that could only hope to shine against thousands of bright lights. the stars above you are brilliant in their light, loud with a declaration of glory and untold miracles that flow across the darkest purples and blues of midnight in rivers of silver. they’re radiant, telling you stories of worlds far beyond what you could ever dream of, and they draw your breath on frost and smoke as it falls from your lips. and should you have asked yourself — where does venus hide among this canvas of light, where does her red outshine the bursts of silver, the trails of gold that glow brighter than the sun, you’d never find your answer.

“(y/n)?”

it’s hard for you, but you manage to pull your eyes away from the night sky, and when you allow them to return themselves to the earth, your breath escapes you once more.

he’s standing amidst an old garden, his face familiar while being like that of a stranger. under the moonlight, you wonder if he’s an apparition, merely a figment of your imagination that approaches you with slow, almost cautious steps. he calls your name again and his voice carries to you on a chilling wind, it ghosts across your skin and fills up your lungs with the oxygen you’d forgotten to take. olive eyes glisten like deep ponds when he finally stands before you, and as you seek out your voice to respond to him, you find that it’s lost its strength.

“ushi-... ushijima?”

and truly, the face that you see before you is that of wakatoshi ushijima. his hair, the shape of his face, and even his lips that now twist into something of a helpless smile. here is the man who you’ve worked with for so long as the dietitian of japan’s national volleyball team; the man who you watched grow through high school, whose transformation reminded you of a cosmos flower in autumn; the man whose smiles told of secrets shared on late phone calls and a voice as calm as the ocean waves at night.

and yet, there’s nothing here of that man you know.

the wakatoshi ushijima you see carries the same regality that he always does, the same grace and silent power that flows from him just as the maroon cotton flutters around his body like waves. he’s always been the perfect picture of royalty, you consider, but here, with assured steps and a certain hush to the normally domineering force he exudes on the court, he really does appear to you like an emperor.

he chuckles lightly, a deep sound that rumbles in his chest and travels through your entire being as his eyes search your expression. there’s something that glistens on starlight, a certain warmth that you’ve yearned for on your loneliest nights, when his gentle words would pull you into deep slumber. does he see the way your brows furrow, the way your lips part with questions you don’t even know the beginnings to? “i thought i told you to call me wakatoshi, didn’t i?” he whispers, his tone soft and gentle, careful just as the hand that reaches up to cup your cheek. your heart stutters under the brushes of his thumb, and you’re sure that he can feel the heat spreading across your skin. “what are you doing out so late? and barefoot, nonetheless.”

he’s right. your feet sink beneath blades of grass as if they would be embraced by them, drops of dew clinging to your skin and causing a chill to travel up your spine. looking into ushijima’s eyes, you have no answer — neither for his question, nor for this strange situation you’ve found yourself in.

with concern melting into his warm gaze, he studies you for a while longer, the thumb that had been rubbing circles into your cheek coming to a stop as he ever so slightly tilts your head back to meet his gaze. at the same time, he’s leaning his head forward ever so slightly, as if to meet you half way. “(y/n)?”

“i—” your words fall short, disappearing under the night air when you try and speak. your eyes fall from his patient gaze, and all your attention is given to the green grass that, beneath the starlight, gives itself to a colour you can’t find the name for. this, you’ve decided, isn’t your world. it can’t be — the stars don’t shine as brightly as they do here, and neither does the air encompass you as if it yearned to kiss your skin. and in your world, wakatoshi ushijima has never held you so gently, and his eyes don’t sing to you poems of a feeling lost on your wildest fantasies. you force air into your lungs when you meet olive hues and try your best to speak with a wavering voice. “ushijima, what’s going on?? i don’t— where are we?”

you see confusion etch lines around his lips and between his brows as he frowns. “what do you mean? we’re in the palace garden, of course.” he says it so assuredly, confident, yet his words are hushed in a secret shared by the both of you. and the way he looks at you, you feel terrible for not knowing that secret. it feels as if somehow, you’d betrayed something sacred by taking the face and name of someone he might hold dear — maybe in this world, in this time, there’s a you who knows ushijima’s love.

“i’m sorry...” you mutter out, guilt and shame unwarranted yet potent behind your words as your eyes lock with his. “i think there’s been some sort of mistake. i’m—” you force yourself to swallow, to breathe; you find that the task comes difficult and your body betrays you terribly. “i don’t think i’m the person who you think i am.”

ushijima’s gaze falters, the hand that had so lovingly warmed your face falls to your shoulder and his fingers grab on to you tightly. “what do you mean...?” there’s a bit of a broken laugh that bubbles from his lips, and to you, it’s as foreign as the night sky above you, because there has never been a time when you’d ever seen him so vulnerable, open, pained. it’s new, and it scares you. it makes you want to wrap him into your arms and to take back everything you’ve said, to selfishly become the person he sees in you — the you whom he loves and cherishes so dearly. “you’re you, aren’t you? you’re (y/n)... my (y/n).”

you shake your head weakly, tears lining your eyes as feelings you’d long since fought against begin to spill from your aching heart like rain. every i love you that you’ve ever whispered to your starless sky burns your skin and sets an unbearable fire alight inside your chest, and the smoke clouds your brain and makes you forget your reality. my (y/n), he’d said — he’d called you his, his (y/n), with all the certainty and confidence in the world, as if those words should stand as true as the moon should shine at night, and oh, how desperately you wished they were true. you wished with all your heart that you really were his. but to look into his eyes, so hopeful, so loving and so, so beautiful in the starlight, you can’t find it within yourself to lie. not to him, and not to yourself. and so you steel your heart and abandon those feelings, and you lift your hand to pull his away from your shoulder, ignoring the pain that could blind you from its intensity. “i’m sorry...” you whisper, and this time, the hushed words bring no secrets, no sweet affections or longings told when the night showers your bodies in silver. it tears you apart and leaves your wounds to fester. “i’m really sorry, but— but i’m not them...”

“i’m not your (y/n).”

chile im so sorry this took so long!! and uh.... see i originally started this oneshot with a cute idea in mind??? but 🤡 somehow it turned into angst and uh.... but anyways!! i had these two requests and i thought “hey, why not combine them!” and it was the perfect opportunity to push my emperor! ushijima agenda 🤩 well.... that was the original intent? but somehow i got sidetracked.... again.... and didn’t really focus on that 😗 in summary? nothing went as i planned for this oneshot and somehow i ended up with a short angst oneshot that could work for an entire plot. like deadass?? i have the whole thing planned out in my head already and i was tempted to go off on it but it would become too long and i wouldn’t have a resolution for it all... or at least not one that didn’t involve pain. so, basically, reader in emperor! ushi’s world would have been like a palace worker who grew up with toshi, and they’d have fallen in love, but it’s ✨forbidden✨ because toshi would have already had his s/o chosen for him. on the flip side, modern world reader is team japan’s nutritionist and they, similarly grew up with toshi, but they have feelings for him that they don’t ever let show because they’re worried that they would destroy what they have with him already. if i went on with the plot, it would have shown reader going about palace life and their interactions with toshi, along with a handful of challenges that they’d have to face. this idea was highly inspired by one of my favourite k-dramas, scarlet heart ryou (a really good watch i def recommend it) but yeah! that’s the end of my rant! (it’s not. i’m stopping myself because if i don’t i’ll never shut up about it.) but anyways!! i really hope you guys enjoyed this oneshot! it feels good to write something after a while — if any of you guys have any thoughts or anything i’d love to hear them!!

taglist: @aiiishiiiteru @tsumue @bootylikepeachy @waitforitillwritemywayout @mixxfi @shnnn @janellion

send an ask to be added or removed!!

[emotionalcello-makefanfics]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Batman - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Tamara Fox, Some OC for cuteness Additional Tags: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Sickfic, Tim Drake is Not Robin, Tim Drake is Not Red Robin, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Crying, so much crying, Love Confessions, Cheesy, God it's so cheesy, Cringe, So sweet so cheesy so angsty that you'll cringe, Tim Drake-centric, some Jason POV tho, A wild X-men appereance, I know they're not the same universe but I'm running out of character and running out of creativity, So yeah X-men characters and vaugly their mansion/orphanage too, Bruce Wayne Bashing, Some things that I don't put down bcs it'll be a spoiler, Smoking, Implied/Referenced Sex, POV from a cat????, The Clichést Cliché that ever Cliché, Cliche Summary:

They meet again on a rooftop after ten years. They're different now, and things are not the same. It's all too late. Chapter 1 sneakpeek

“Don’t jump.”

Sighing exasperatedly, Tim puts down his cigarette-clutching fingers and drags his eyes to the source of the voice. His gelled-back hair loses its hold and a strand of ear-length bangs falls to his vision.

Sadly, without seeing him and just from the voice, Tim knows exactly who this person is. One of the Bat franchise, and it just had to be the Red Hood variation, fucking great. Out of all time, it has to be tonight. The world is playing a joke on him.

Tim is sitting hunched on the rooftop’s edge, wishing he’d have some peace and quiet for once, and of course one of these pestering bats just has to bug him at the worst time. Yet, it’s actually pretty rare for Red Hood to patrol Gotham lately, and Tim curses up a storm in his mind. Out of all the days, it just has to be fucking tonight.

No, Tim is not having it.

“This man has too much to do tomorrow to jump.” Tim looks away, getting a light from his suit.

One hand lighting another one of his death stick, and the other unbuttoning his suit and loosens his tie. After a puff and two, Tim drags in and keeps the smoke in, letting his nerves uncoil. Seems like it doesn’t work that well when the big bad shadow of a vigilante doesn’t move from the corner of his eyes.

“I’m not jumping, go away, I can’t deal with you tonight,” Tim says as he sighs the smoke away to the red polluted sky, thinking the man must be deaf or just not convinced. Maybe the latter, the bats are famous for their tact after all. People say they’re purely human. Seeing Red hood’s physique, maybe this one becomes meta-human at some point.

Tim looks the other way so the vigilante is completely out of his vision, to make a point that he’s not having this conversation. He looks to the city, engulfed by the red sky. It’s bright since this building is at the heart of the city, where the higher caste of Gothamites live and prosper. You can see the border around the bright side of the city where the lights stop dead and darkness begins. The poor side of the city. The gap is ghastly, it’s what makes Gotham what it is.

Tim is not surprised but highly disappointed when he hears shuffling instead, and when he looks at where the tall brick wall of a man, he already sits down next to him. Red Hood keeps a respectable distance though, at least he has that much of a tact.

Red Hood hooks his fingers inside his helmet, does some finger shimmy, and the red shiny mask helmet is off. His face is still covered by a domino mask, his hair looks damp, and his gloved hands rake his jet black hair back. Curls bounce to his forehead, sighing a fog, the only indication that the weather is reaching the end of the year. In turn, Tim felt his cleanly shaved nape chilled.

From inside the leather jacket, the vigilante digs to look for something, and that’s when Tim realized he’s been looking at the cuts on Red Hood’s exposed forearms from the folded sleeves. Very thick and muscled forearms. This guy either lifts all day or a meta-human, not that Tim cares anymore.

“Got a light?” Red says, plush lips smirking.

Tim sighs, guess he has company today. He digs into his suit and throws him his lighter. The masked man inspects it and Tim rolls his eyes. The lighter is a metal one that you flip, and on it engraved ‘From my heart with love, that this one lasts longer, Tam.’

“A sweetheart of yours?” Says the man, the second sentence he speaks, and Tim doesn’t recognize the voice. Deep, gravely, the typical voice of someone that smokes.

Red Hood extends his hand to give back the lighter to Tim instead of throwing it, must’ve thought it’s special.

“Kind of,” Tim says, receiving the lighter.

Red Hood drags in, keeps the smoke in, “Why kind of?” and sighs.

“Never established the relationship.”

“Commitment issues?”

Tim quirks an eyebrow at the man, sitting just as hunched as him. There’s a pillar beside Tim, and he lays his back there, thinking whether or not he should engage in this conversation. Eh, why not right? It’s not like it’s confidential information, and Tim is just so tired of caring about social politics.

“I was too late,” Tim says. It’s not as painful to say now, but lately, Tim has been numb. He’s been numb for years. Tim’s gay, or so he thought. When he began to really love her, she’s gone from him.

“Girl got another guy?” Red Hood teases.

“Girl got dead,” Tim deadpans. The smile dropped from the vigilante’s mouth, and if only he can see his eyes, panic would look funny on the all-powerful Bat. But, no, Tim can see his tell by the tapping hands.

“Ah fuck, sorry.”

Tim chuckles at the spectacle of an awkward vigilante. Maybe this night won’t be so bad after all.

“Relax, I’m not too sad about it now, it was years ago.”

It’s hard to predict Red’s expression with that domino mask that takes his cheekbones and half his forehead, but Tim’s pretty sure the twist on that mouth means his opinion of Tim isn’t good. Well, not that Tim cares.

“How did she die?”

“Wrong place, wrong time,” Tim put the filter on his lips and drags in as deep as he can. Too deep, and Tim coughs hard, once and twice that his vision blurs. Her face comes to vision, the morbidity of her expression tips Tim’s nerves off balance. Tim quickly takes another deep drag, “She was in the Joker’s way.”

At the name, Red Hood snaps his face at Tim. Slowly, languidly, Tim looks back. The vigilante clenched jaw and balled fists look like he’s about to kill somebody. Tim knows that a few years ago Red Hood kidnapped Joker, didn’t kill him, and just vanished before popping up again to have a vendetta against Batman. What a load of drama those bunch.

This also means that Tim knows exactly who this person is. Suddenly the voice registers, the familiar jaw, the soft fucking tone.

He blames it on the nicotine that his heart is calmer than he’d like, his mind still not on overdrive, still plagued with Tam’s face as she died in front of him. He’d breathe smoke instead of oxygen if he could. God he wished he’d breathe smoke from now on. Why does it have to be today? One grace from the universe is that Tim -for some reason- feels amused instead of dread.

“You look like you’re about to kill somebody, Red,” Tim says, can’t help the ease and sass in his voice. Tim lays back hunched, crosses his legs. “I thought you let go of your vendetta against the Joker.”

“Where do you hear that bullshit?” Redhood snaps and Tim can’t help but let go another chuckle.

“People talk, words get around,” Tim says.

“Then they’re far off the truth,” Red hisses before dragging in his cig.

“Yet the Joker still roams.”

“Ain’t my call.”

“Is it the big bat daddy calls?”

Red Hood splutters at the name and Tim smirks evilly at the reaction. “Ew, don’t call him that!”

“I can call that higher-than-thou furry hero wannabe anything I want,” Tim spits bitterly, looking out to the city. Sometimes when he’s really lucky, he’ll catch one of the bats twirling in the sky, and now one of ‘em is sitting beside him, but sadly it’s not the most shocking knowledge he has today. “One of these days it’s going to be my turn.”

“What?”

“Dying in the collision of mad men’s evil master plan you refuse to get rid of.”

“Ck, I don’t like what you’re insinuating.”

“Sorry then, I don’t mean to insinuate anything. This is me telling you loud and clear that you’re all cowards for not killing these maniacs that kill us like ants when you have the power to stop them.” Tim’s voice is even and chill, it did not raise a tone, but it reduces the bulk of a man beside him to still. “Some of us rooted for you when you caught the Joker, and your reputation gives us high hopes that it’ll be the last of him. Then he showed up again.” Tim feels the lighter in his pocket burn, “Then Tam died.”

Tim pumps his lung full of smokes, keeping it in there so that the clawing gloom will die before it takes roots.

“I almost did kill him, Batman stopped me,” the gravel voice says lowly.

Tim feels himself stiffens, now that’s something he doesn’t know. His eyes scan the hunched vigilante, trying to find any sign of a lie, there’s none.

“Shit,” Tim curses, sighing up smoke and quickly takes a deep drag in. “Fuck Batman.”

For the first time, Tim hears Red chuckle, “Yeah, fuck him.”

“Still your family though, right?” Tim says, earning what he thinks is a glare, who would fucking know with that mask. “Why else would you stay in his line?”

Red Hood looks away, not answering.

“Guess I understand. Proving something to someone.”

Red scoffs, “Would you?”

“You know who I am.”

“Yeah, not your story.”

Tim scoffs at the obvious lie, “Look it up. I have better things to do than telling you my backstory that’s a google search away.”

Tim Drake. Son of the CEOs of Drake Industries. Running smoothly since ever he becomes the COO. Yada yada, young and successful, yada yada, has the reputation to chew out the reporters and a resting bitch face, all that shit. Tim doesn’t have the best bedside manners, but when it comes to business, Tim gets things done, and his business partners know to swallow their pride for a potential too stupid to missed just because Tim has fangs.

“I dunno, you’re pretty mysterious in the eye of the media,” Red says.

“Because they’re nosy pricks and not worth my time when they’re asking me about rumors of my flings.”

“They’re not true?”

“What the fuck are you? Does TMZ sent you?”

“Good point, never mind.”

They let the quiet settle in, and Tim isn’t too bothered by the company so much. The red amber eats to his filter. Tim puts out the light and puts the bud back inside the pack while he gets another one. He looks down at his light, which reminded him of Tam. Damn, she was such a good assistant, she’s also his best friend but a damn better assistant. Tim doesn’t let himself think about it.

He lights another, and puffs.

“Shouldn’t you be patroling?” Tim says before he can stop himself.

“Nah, not here to patrol, just some errands.”

“Don’t mind me. I’m not jumping.”

“No, I know that,” Red says, tone softer that Tim narrows his eyes at him.

“Lonely?” Tim teases, putting the filter in his lips while locking eyes to the pair of white lenses.

Red shrugs, “Just wanna kill time with someone that doesn’t wear one of these,” he says, tapping to his domino mask.

Tim hums imagining himself with his family, “Yeah, me too, I’d take a vigilante franchise over family dinner anytime.”

“Aww,” Red surprisingly coos, making Tim flustered.

“Don’t get it twisted, my family sets a pretty low bar for good company.”

“I can say the same, Timmy.”

Tim flinches, “I didn’t say you can call me Timmy.”

“What about friends then?” Red follows up, ignoring him.

“Joker killed my only best friend. Oh god, stop making that face, everyone I know got someone they know killed by the Joker, or Bane, or.... shit just those freaks.”

“Doesn’t make me feel better.”

“I don’t care what you feel.”

“I’m wounded,” Red says in that joking ‘boo-hoo’ voice but it was the last thing to snap Tim’s patience completely. He hates this casual conversation as if nothing happened.

“I’m not jumping, and I know you’re not here just to talk to some random civilian. You know who I am, so say what you wanna say and go,” Tim inhales deeply after the low-toned rant, only to be met with another silence.

They stay quiet for a few whiles again. Smoking the tension away. After Tim’s cig burns halfway, his nerves calmed down. Then he realizes that Red is looking at him. Staring.

“What?” Tim says, sighing smoke.

“Would you kill Joker if you could?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“Killing someone isn’t as easy as it sounds, especially if you did it before.”

“You underestimate my anger then.”

Red Hood goes still for what Tim is insinuating. His phone vibrates in his pocket. Tim gets it and his new assistant reminds him of a flight in an hour and he needs to be ready in half. Tim puts out his cig and pockets it.

As he stands up, he looks down at Red Hood, really looks at him. It reminded Tim of the time has passed. It’s been so long.

“Nothing to say?” Tim asks, he has an underlying tone of ‘last chance.’

“Thanks for the light.”

Tim clenches his jaw and breaths slowly. What did he expect? “You caught me at a bad time but it’s good to meet you again, Jason.”

When Tim walks away, his elbow is grabbed and he’s spun to face Jason in all his bulk. Looming over him with his height.

“You know who I am?” Red says with a threat in his voice that makes Tim wants to laugh.

“Are you really that surprised? Or did you forget me when you fucking died?” Tim smiles bitterly.

Moments passed, eyes on each other, chest to chest. The last time he sees Jason, Tim was staring at these white lenses too, and Jason was still as tall as him. At this close, Tim sees tiny tears that heal pale than the rest of his tan skin, bulked up body looming over him that used to be similar to his. For anyone, Tim had two best friends, Robin and Jason Wayne-Todd, he had known the two are the same. Seems like Jason doesn’t.

Doesn’t matter now. Everything said and done. Too late.

“Say your goodbyes now,” Tim says, because why else would his childhood friend pops back again after a decade of not saying anything after he returned to life. Tim doesn’t realize it’ll hurt this bad though. Missing Tam doesn’t hurt this bad.

Perhaps it was because the scar never healed right, but he still thinks of Jason like a big chunk of him that’s been torn away forcefully, even now.

“I’m sorry,” Jason finally says, low and guilty, as he should be, but it irks Tim to no end.

“I lost you, and when you’re back you didn’t tell me,” Tim says, his voice cracks and he curses it to hell. Red Hood’s been around for years, and Jason never came to Tim to say he’s alive.  “If you have nothing else to say, let go of me.”

“I didn’t know that you knew.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know you know I was Robin... Did you know... everyone?”

Tim rolls his eyes, “Yes.” Gloved hands still on his elbow, and white lenses not letting him go. The non-challant face he wears slips off as if oil just slicked between the mask and his skin. His heart picks up a beat. There are layers between their skin, Jason’s thick gloves and Tim’s three-piece suit, but it feels warmer. Burning.

“Damn,” Jason curses under his breath.

It’s just a little thing, but Jason’s silence following that is a nother prick to Tim’s skin.

“Is that all?” Tim dismissed, pulling his arm away, but Jason only holds tighter.

“I didn’t know, okay?” Jason pushes, “And you’re a civilian, you’re not supposed to know Jason Todd is back to the land of the living.”

“A civilian,” Tim mutters under his breath. That’s all he is to Jason? All this time. His chest hurts, Tim knows this is because of Jason’s words instead of anything else. “Get away from me.”

“I’ll see you again,” Jason says before letting go.

Before Tim can say don’t bother, the man puts on his red helmet and grapples away. For a moment Tim can see the shadow of red yellow green flying away.

[alwaysbeliev]

Stay the Way We Are

Arthur Morgan x Reader

word count: 2,163

summary: It’s been a rough few weeks between Blackwater and arriving at Horseshoe Overlook.  You're not sure, but you think a certain cowboy might be realizing what he has to lose, and he doesn't want to lose it.

notes: i haven’t written any reader insert material in a really long time, but i’m playing rdr2 again, and i just wanted something warm and comforting. i hope you like this

~ ~ ~ 

Horseshoe Overlook was beautiful in the setting sun. The way the sun tinged the clouds pink, the fading bright orange of the top of the mountains, the valley stretching below. You stood on the edge of the rocky precipice, hugging your shawl close to your shoulders in the disappearing light and heat of the day. With the wind against your face, you could almost pretend there was nothing else going on in the world. No Pinktertons, no O’Driscolls, it was almost like you were just camping.

A raucous laugh from behind you startled you. Resurfacing from your daydream, you blinked as the last rays of sunlight fell behind the distant Grizzlies. Another day, another sunset, another night you would live to rest again. Your muscles relaxed and you felt a small smile grace your lips. This was allowed tonight.

Taking a deep breath, you turned away from the darkening view to see your fellow gang members gathering around the campfire. Sean had cracked open a new case of whiskey and was passing a couple bottles out as Javier helped him pour the drinks. Karen was already a full glass in, her cheeks turning red and making your smile spread further. Everyone’s faces were aglow in the strong firelight, all their scars almost invisible in the intense flame. Some sat on the logs, others on the still warm ground, and the stragglers standing behind.

You readjusted your shawl as you made your way over. Mary Beth welcomed you in next to her. Uncle was spouting some fantastical tale about his pre-lumbago days, days you had never seen in your lifetime, and you chuckled at his drama. It took you a moment to realize you were standing beside Arthur. You felt heat rising to your cheeks that had nothing to do with the flames that were 5 feet away from you still.

In the days since Blackwater, you and Arthur had grown closer. You were almost sure something had been there before, but after everything went down and the gang fled, you had noticed him giving you special attention. Through the mountains, he had kept by your side. When you were tired of riding in the wagon, he sat you on his horse, wrapped carefully and firmly in his arms as he guided his horse through the deep snow. He always gave you an extra bread crust, an extra scoop of stew when it was available, a spare blanket, his jacket on one particularly bitter night. You didn’t really want to give it much thought, you had dealt with too much heartbreak already, but part of you wanted to believe that whatever had happened on the ferry made him realize he didn’t want to lose what was in front of him. You still didn’t know the details of that fiasco, but whatever happened had scared the shit out of Arthur, and you weren’t going to press him. 

“You going soft, Morgan?” you had teased shortly after the arrival at Horseshoe. It seemed to strike a nerve with the outlaw. 

“Jus’ doin’ my part,” he had managed to mumble. He finished rather quickly after that and brushed his hands off before striding away faster than was normal.

The whiskey had made its way around to you. You took it from Mary Beth, taking a long drink that burned down your throat and made you shudder violently.

“Christ,” you breathed, turning to Arthur with the bottle.

“What’s the matter?” he chuckled, taking it from you gingerly. “Is it really that bad?”

You only shook your head, willing the lingering sting to leave your mouth. Truthfully, you hadn’t had anything to drink since before Blackwater. It didn’t warm you like it did the others, and with things the way they were, you wanted your senses about you in the case things went further south. The long pull you had taken was just too much. 

“‘M fine,” you managed. With a small shake of his head, Arthur took his own drink before passing it on. Your heart skipped a beat when you watched him swallow. Oh, it’s bad....

Another round of laughter drew you out of your head again.

“You’re full of it,” the man beside you called over. Uncle was insisting he’d told the truth on the opposite side of the circle to uproarious laughter and head shaking. Bill thumped him on the back, calling him an old fool. It was endearing, though, the way the others still encouraged Uncle.

As the laughter died down, the familiar sound of Dutch’s phonograph began to play. Its comforting tone filled the campsite as the crowd began to separate into smaller groups, a few folks heading to their tents to prepare for bed. Abigail led Jack away as the boy asked to stay up with the adults, eyes desperately trying to catch John’s. Karen found her way to Sean’s lap. The Irishman generously wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her from falling. A bottle had found its way back to you. While the chatter began to die, you took another drink, tipping the bottle gently this time and taking a smaller sip.

“Here.”

Arthur took the bottle from you, taking another drink of his own before handing it back. You smiled and thanked him, but merely held the bottle for now. He was flushed, you thought. It was difficult to tell. Between the glow of the fire and the drink, it might be wishful thinking. It was several moments before you realized you were still staring. You quickly turned away as you felt the heat rising in your own cheeks.

Motion in your peripheral had you relieved for the distraction. There, by Dutch’s tent, van der Linde himself had pulled Molly to her feet. They were slow dancing to the music, lost in their own little world, Molly’s hair almost like fire itself in the lantern glow. You watched them, tuning out the conversation around you. It was nice to see them like this. Every now and then, you caught the two of them in a moment made you wonder why they ever fought in the first place. It was clear Molly loved Dutch, and while he was proud and would never admit to anything so soft out loud, you knew he loved her, too. 

A soft hand on your shoulder dragged you back to reality again. Arthur was looking at you, amused concern etched in his brow.

“Y’okay?” he asked. Something told you he had already tried getting your attention.

“Ah, yeah,” you said, allowing yourself a slightly embarrassed smile. “It’s just nice to see them not fighting for once.” Arthur followed your gaze before answering. 

“They don’t mean nothin’ by it.” Was he trying to reassure you?

“Still. Must be nice to have someone to fight with. Makes you appreciate these moments more.”

There was a long silence as the pair of you watched the couple. Dutch’s hand had found the small of Molly’s back and drawn her in tight, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. They weren’t stepping side to side anymore, only swaying off beat. You could almost feel yourself in that moment. It had been so long since you had danced at all, and never like that. There really wasn’t time for it the way you lived now. 

“Join me?”

You reluctantly tore your gaze away from the peacefulness to find Arthur, facing you, hand extended. Sheepishly, you realized he must have asked you another question and were going to have to ask him to repeat himself. As you opened your mouth, however, something clicked in your mind.

“Join you..?” you echoed, heart fluttering. 

“Don’t make me ask again.” 

“Arthur Morgan, are you asking me to dance with you?”

“Well?”

The cowboy looked...nervous? You had never seen him like this before. You couldn’t blame him, though, you were nervous, too. Hardly daring to break your gaze with him, you gingerly placed your hand in his, allowing him to guide you away from the fire and into a patch of shadows. He moved with the grace of a man who hadn’t asked someone to dance in a very very long time. Maybe he never had. Stiffly, he turned to you, lifting your hand with his and placing it on his shoulder. His hand found your waist as the other gripped your free hand. 

For several beats, the movements felt ridiculous. The two of you couldn’t look each other in the eye. Your mouth had a mind of its own, twitching into an awkward smile again and again while you tried to watch your feet and not step on Arthur’s boots. Not that that mattered. Cowboys and mud and all that. Thankfully, it wasn’t just you. In an attempt to do something special, Arthur led you into a spin, but failed to release your waist, causing your shawl to slip off your shoulders and gather in a pile on the dirt. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, scooping it up and trying to drape it over your shoulders again. You felt your heart soften. He was so vulnerable in this moment. He usually oozed confidence and strength, but right now, he was lost. You brushed off his apology, taking his hand again and drawing yourself closer to him. Here, you could at least pretend to be confident.

The movements started to come more naturally now. The fire was dying down, the camp seeming to fade into the background. All you could see were Arthur’s blue eyes, no hat’s shadow to hide under, the few lights around sparkling in their reflection. You could get lost in them. You were getting lost in them.

“So how’re you likin’ things?” Arthur asked.

“They’re alright.” You thought about your words carefully for a moment. “I’m just glad to be out of the mountains. It feels almost safe here.” 

“I know what you mean.”

Silence again. The song had changed to something sweeter, somehow slower. Dutch and Molly were having a whispered conversation now. Few people still hung around the dying fire. You were acutely aware of the warmth emanating from the man in front of you, the rise and fall of his chest. You were standing even closer, you realized, your own chest brushing against his.

“What about you?”

Arthur hummed. He seemed to be studying your face, taking it all in like it was the first time in a long time. He looked happy and relaxed, a look you realized you hadn’t seen on him in months, but it somehow made him more handsome. 

“From where I’m standing, it’s all perfect.” You swallowed. Hard. He must have noticed how sweaty your palms were despite the evening chill.

“Glad t’ hear it,” you replied. As you watched his face carefully, you felt his hand on your waist shift lower, nearly lining up with your hip before shifting towards your back, gently bringing you flush to him. Nervously, you lowered your arm, hooking your hand over his shoulder from the back instead. This was intimate. This was more like Dutch and Molly.

“Y’know,” Arthur started, “ever since arriving here, I can’t help but wonder what might make this place more perfect. I ain’t the smartest man, so it’s taken me way too long to think of somethin’.”

You were almost frozen, the only movement the continued swaying of your bodies in sync, your eyes wide as he spoke. He really looked like a different man right now. He wasn’t the stoic bodyguard of numerous robberies, debt collections, and other Dutch errands. This was the real Arthur. 

“I’m real sorry it took me this long. Any chance you’ll forgive me?”

To an outsider, a romance novelist, this wasn’t much of a confession. He hadn’t even admitted anything. But you knew him. You knew all the glances, the teasings, the special treats and gifts, the attention in the mountains, the flushed cheeks in the past week, how difficult it was for Arthur to open up like this. You knew that for him, this was exposing his belly, being as transparent and vulnerable as he was comfortable being. There was time later down the road for more intimate conversations, you knew, and this, right now, was more than enough.

“I’ll have to think about it,” you said, stopping your swaying to coyly glance to the side. “After all, we’ve only known each other… What is it now, 3 years? That’s an awful short time to know someone.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that. 

“Fair enough,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Just don’t torture me, now, okay?”

Feeling more content than you had in a long time, you returned your eyes to his and said, “I promise.”

The music continued to play through to the end of the song. Dutch and Molly prepared to return to their tent, but you and Arthur stayed in each other’s arms, swaying to the tune in your heads, simply existing in the moment. This, here, now, was enough.

[khaleesiofalicante]

HI, IT'S ME! YOUR LOCAL CHAOTIC WEIRDO!!!!! I'M BACK AGAIN LIKE I AM TWICE EVERY WEEK

IT'S MY BOY DAVID THIS TIME! WHY AM I SO HYPER! MAYBE BECAUSE THEY KISSED! AND I HAD TO SUPPRESS MY SCREAMS BCAUSE IM IN CLASS AND THE REST OF MY FAMILY IS OUTSIDE MY DOOR (NOT LITERALLY OFC)

OK OK OK OK OK OK

MAX AND DAVID ARE AT THE LONDON INSTITUTE YESYESYESYES

He rather liked that part in a story – when the hero fell, and everything seemed bleak. It always meant that hope was just around the corner. Because darkness never lasted. It was always followed by light. There was nothing more beautiful than that kind of sunrise.

THIS

I literally live my life by this analogy

AHHH DAVID IS ON HIS TRAVEL YEAR AND MAX IS WITH HIM

SCREAM

well i can't scream because my mom is sitting right there and I have class in 4 minutes so imma smile really wide

“Are you planning to read the entire library during your travel year?” Max chuckled.

“Of course not,” David replied. “I will need longer than a year to accomplish that goal.”

Me.

Wait

does max not being able to make portals have something to do with his lineage?

like

demon parent

ok so my programming class started 2 minutes early but screw programming I'm gonna be studying minds not this shit

ok that's a very bad attitude for someone who needs good grades in this year

Max was always hungry.

this is so me

KIT

KIT

KIT

KIT

KIT

KIT

TY

THEY MENTIONED TY

also if David doesn't become an institute head in the future THEN WHAT'S THE POINT

“Where is the kitchen?” Max interrupted.

max is such a mood

He had told Max that he had centuries to perfect his magic, that there was no need to rush it. Max had given him a noncommittal nod and nothing more.

HE'S GONNA MAKE THE BEST PORTALS YOU'LL SEE

“I won’t tell the Consul,” Kit winked.

At the mention of the Consul, David straightened up. He had been trying to get into Alec Lightwood’s good graces for years now. He didn’t think sharing a room with his son would do him any favors.

DAVID UDUCDFUHKDUHVUHSDH

PLEASE IF WE DON'T GET A CUTE ALEC AND DAVID SCENE SOON

KIT CALLED TESSA MOM

oh my god

Word was that Mr. Herondale had gone back to his obsession with brewing tea.

JACE

I have so many emotions right now but all I'm gonna say is that I'm so so proud of Rafael

“Do you not want to sleep with me?” Max asked.

UH-

WELL-

DAVID STOP THINKING ABOUT THE FUTURE AND ALL THE SHIT

STOP IT

OH MY GOD THE ONE BED TROPE

MAX IS IN HIS ARMS I'M ABOUT TO-

takes a deep breath don't scream. everyone outside this door thinks you're taking programming class

OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE JUST GET TOGETHER ALREADY

AWW JULIAN PAINTED PORTRAITS FOR THE INSTITUTE

The one of Will Herondale and Tessa Gray – A love that had transcended reality and lasted a lifetime.

The one of James Herondale and Cordelia Carstairs – A love that had started with a lie and then blossomed into nothing but happiness and devotion.

The one of Lucie Herondale and Jesse Blackthorn – A love that had been so powerful that it rewrote the past.

The one of Jace Herondale and Clary Fairchild – A love that had walked through hell and shaken up the heavens.

And then there the final one. The one of Kit Herondale and Tiberius Blackthorn – A love that had survived distance and darkness and doom.

This omg...

He wanted a love story. The kind he read in the books. The kind he saw in these portraits.

But he wasn’t a Herondale. He wasn’t sure if he was destined for that kind of love.

HEY

DON'T THINK LIKE THAT

The first part though

same

He might have been a little too excited. It was biologically impossible to control yourself when you find a stranger reading your favorite book in the whole world.

SO TRUE

“I see you already made a new friend,” Max said.

He sounded a little…odd. As if he was not pleased that David had made a new friend.

honey...

take a guess

can I jump in and bash their heads together?

“You are thinking of conjuring chocolate syrup, aren’t you?” David chuckled.

“How do you always know what’s on my mind?” Max chuckled back.

Because I know you, David wanted to say. I just wish I knew what’s in your heart too.

OH MY GOD I CANT WITH THIS

“You get chocolate syrup! You get chocolate syrup! You get chocolate syrup!” Max was yelling, standing on the chair.

They residents laughed harder, and David shook his head fondly. He hoped one day Max would pursue a career in theatre. He was a born showman.

can I have chocolate syrup?

also, the way David is just so fond of him like DYUSDGYJCDYUJM

“By the angel, do you have to be a drama queen about everything?” the boy next to them muttered – not so quietly.

David blinked. That was uncalled for.

But Max being Max was completely unfazed. “Of course I do. My Bapa would be personally offended otherwise.”

exactly you rude little shit

Max often pretended like people’s words didn’t hurt him - just as he pretend that fire doesn’t burn or wounds don’t bleed.

wow ok stop calling me out

Is max jealous??????

is he??????

how are people so good at languages like damn

TY

TY

TY

TY

“Oh my god,” Max groaned. “Is he already telling people to check on me?”

LMAO

using mundane medicine...

that's risky

but it's also something that WILL help

can't warlocks tamper with the blood samples?

A part of him wondered if that’s why he had agreed to send Max away to London – at least for a week. Because sometimes you didn’t want other people to see you were hurting.

alec I really goddamn hope you're dealing with this well

some of whom had even decided to die than get help from a warlock.

alright then gets my knives but you chose this :D

Nobody brought a book down for breakfast if they didn't like to read.

yes but sometimes also to seem busy so people won't bother you or you won't look alone.

“I know,” the boy said as he walked past them to the gate. “I sat on the stairs and thought about life for a few good minutes.”

his family is the one who took over David's previous institute (i can't spell that. marse- marselli- wat??) methinks.

The gang always visited whenever all of them were in the city together. They would have so much fun! Of course, the 'fun' mostly entailed Rafael stopping Georgia from drinking random potions she found in the stalls, Selena stopping Lexi from opening a psychic booth to help people talk to Raziel and of course David stopping Max from running to the gambling booths.

LMAO, I CANT WITH THIS-

Rafe: I am anxiety.

me at any given moment

EW TESTICLES HE'S EATING THOSE-

ok maybe I'm the only person who's really picky when it comes to food and doesn't eat the majority of things

“Anything on Magnus Bane?” Max asked.

“No,” the woman snapped and shoved some of the letters into a bag and hide it under the table. “Leave Magnus Bane alone!”

“Appreciate your loyalty,” Max winked at her and started examining a diary.

I like her.

"Everyone should be participating in this" -my programming teacher

me, an intellectual: participating in what?? goes to the class web THE FUCK IS THAT

“Something for the shadowhunter?” the woman smiled. “Perhaps an unpublished snippet from the Beautiful Cordelia?”

“Do you have any love letters?” David asked.

“Hmmm,” the woman went through the pages. “I do have a correspondence between an Iblis demon and Christopher Lightwood? Would you be interested in that?”

if u don't mind I would love to see both of those-

you know I just remembered I have a computer assignment I need to submit by the end of this week fml

“Never fall in love with an immortal,” she giggled again. “We don’t like staying in one place.”

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

MAX WHERE ARE YOU

why are we using x and 3 in programming class what the heck is going on

“I’m not just some warlock,” Max said, his voice low. “I’m Magnus Bane’s son.”

GIVE HIM THAT NECKLACE BACK

we usually have programming once a week on our physical school days and those are fun because my and my friend are continuously passing notes and talking to each other through writing

The scene where Max fought off all the evil people who tried to steal his valuable belonging. He would fight without breaking a sweat and throw magic fireballs at everyone and then get his necklace back. And then he would kiss David in front of everyone and it would somehow rain all of a sudden.

But life wasn’t a movie or a book. Life was just life.

life's boring

fuck life

I just heard a student ask "why are we not taking out the values of b and c" BESTIE I THOUGHT WE WERE DOING PROGRAMMING AND NOT ALGEBRA?????

“I know there wasn’t anyone to protect you before,” Magnus Bane had said. “But we are here now. We will protect you. This will protect you.”

He hadn’t wanted it back then. He didn't even want it even now.

He didn’t want something to protect him. Most importantly, he didn’t want to cover his scar. He didn’t want to hide it. He wasn’t ashamed of it. It wasn’t a mark of a victim. It was the mark of a survivor.

So, David had smiled and given the bracelet back.

“I never wanted to be protected,” David had replied. “I only ever wanted to be loved.”

The warlock had smiled at that and given David a hug. It had felt different than other hugs he had experienced since he had come to New York.

It wasn’t just the magic. Magnus Bane carried so much love inside himself you could literally feel it through him.

I'm gonna cry during my programming class (where we're doing variables apparently all of a sudden??)

this is so beautiful

“I wasn’t talking about Bapa,” Max said now. “I was talking about the other one.”

David chuckled at that. “Oh, yeah. He is definitely going to kill you.”

what flowers would you like at your funeral?

so Jackson has family troubles

I've definitely got that

yeah I know what it's like to be jealous of someone else's perfect family

JACKSON WTF

Is he trying to ruin max's relationship with his family???

oh hell no

JACKSON THE AUDACITY

“One stolen necklace, One broken nose and One bruised cheek,” he said. “And you’ve been in London for less than a day.”

kit seriously? but is he wrong though?

“This is what I get for falling for a Lightwood-Bane,” David sighed and walked through the portal.

WELL AT LEAST HE'S SELF AWARE

Jackson...

in some ways, I can empathize with him. my younger self anyway. but Jackson this is not how you do things

There was a moment of silence and then Magnus Bane giggled.

“I do love it when the quiet ones go feral,” the warlock grinned.

MAGNUS

NOT.THE.TIME

(me too)

“David!” Mr Herondale gasped. “Is your hand okay?”

yup that's Jace y'all

David hated violence. He hated fighting – which he was often not allowed to say out loud considering he was a shadowhunter.

But it was the truth. He hated hurting people – or even things. It made him feel sick.

“It’s alright, Chouchou,” Mr Herondale ran a hand through David’s hair. “Next time, just-”

“Use my words?” David asked.

“Just don’t get caught,” the man winked.

and that is why I would never want to be a shadowhunter.

I know saying that doesn't do anything but when I first read tsc I wanted to be a shadowhunter really badly and damn that was some time ago but now...violence of any kind is my biggest trigger idek why. and I hate that so much because what kind of a person gets triggered by loud voices and fighting EVEN ON SCREEN??? I usually just push myself to watch stuff because it's dumb. I refuse to see trigger warnings before reading a book or watching a show because damn it, I should be able to stand those things I'm, not a child. and it may be doing me more harm than good but I shouldn't feel like this in the first place

okay...that was long

ANYWAY

“David, I appreciate you standing up for Max,” the Consul said. “But next time, please try not to punch anyone in the face.”

“Yes, sir,” David nodded. “Because it’s wrong.”

“Because it means more paperwork for me,” the Consul groaned and then straightened up. “But yes. Absolutely. Very wrong. No punching people!”

LMAO ALEC

Jackson...

oh

oh

oh

I was wrong then

He was grinning. Magnus Bane must have raised hell in the shadow market.

that must have been fun

Max was doing that thing where he was not trying to pout but he was mostly definitely pouting. It made David want to kiss him. But then the Consul spoke, and David reminded himself he didn’t want to be the third person to get punched in the face this evening.

well-

“I understand that Jackson has been through a lot. But that’s not an excuse for him to hurt those around him. I learned that lesson the hard way. So, you shouldn’t excuse his behaviour.”

someone's trauma and pain is never an excuse to hurt others

but that doesn't mean we should invalidate their trauma either

“You can stay back and try to help him. I won’t stop you,” the man got up now. “But if he tries to hurt you-”

“You will unleash hell?” David chuckled.

“Worse,” the other man grinned. “I will unleash Lexi.”

that is much much worse

Books brought him comfort in so many ways. Just holding one in his hands automatically made him feel better.

oh my god

he gets it

I always have a book with me when I'm out even if I'm not gonna get the time to read it because just the weight and comfort of it in my hands or in my backpack brings me so much comfort and helps with my social anxiety so much

no one understands when I try to tell them that

you get it...

someone gets it finally

AYYY IRENE

“David, it’s very sweet that you want to protect Jackson,” Kit pointed out. “But literally no one is buying that. Not even Irene.”

The lynx purred on his lap as if she agreed with Kit.

“I could break into a liquor cabinet,” David said a little indignantly.

David is the nicest you can get

David wouldn’t. Apparently, everyone already seemed to know that - even the lynx he had met five minutes ago.

we are solving something in class and it's really quiet because we're all doing our work (I'm reading the fic so-) and this one person had their mic open and they kept on whispering their steps and it was so weird I cant-

BUT YES DAVID IS A CINNAMON ROLL. EVEN THE LYNX KNOWS

“We were talking about shitty fathers,” Jackson pointed out. “You’re welcome to stay.”

“I’m gonna need something stronger than red wine for this conversation,” Kit chuckled.

I remember that bitch

David used to do it when he was a child. He used to pretend his life was a story. He used to pretend everything that happened to him was happening to some other boy – a boy who wasn’t real. A boy who lived inside a book. Because it hurt a little less when you pretend like it wasn’t happening to you.

But the pain was still very real.

OK YOU CAN STOP CALLING ME OUT NOW

“I fucking hate ogres,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Was your father an ogre too?” Jackson asked.

“He was more like a harpy,” Kit snorted. “He was always flying and fleeing. I didn’t know how deep his talons were in my head until it was too late.”

you really like traumatizing all your characters, don't you?

I really fucking hope the ogre got what he deserved

and if the angel is dead then fuck everyone

“I mean, there was that time when Sebastian Morgenstern turned my father into the endarkened, and then he went around killing people. So, I would say he was more like a zombie,” the man was explaining now. “The zombie father tried to kill me but my brother killed him first.”

“Good lord!” Jackson said in shock.

Kit chuckled softly. “Boy do shadowhunters need therapy.”

they really do

He knew about those from New York. He knew Mr Herondale and Miss Fairchild went for one together.

YES GET THEM THERAPY

“Yikes,” Kit chuckled. “I’d prefer something classier. How about London Boys?”

“None of us are from London though,” Tiberius pointed out.

“The Beatles are not actually beetles, Ty,” Kit chuckled. “It’s just for pizazz.”

damn guys

Then the idea of a band turned into a possible YouTube channel where they would react to cute animal videos.

YS DO IT

“When people do awful things, really awful things, at one point we stop being surprised. Like what Valentine did to his children or what our fathers did to us or what those women did to Rafael. We might have been shocked or disgusted. But it wasn’t unrealistic, was it?”

“I guess not,” the boy said.

“Even when they did the most unimaginable acts of cruelty, it somehow managed to fit into our imagination. We accepted that the world can be unrealistically cruel. The kind of cruelty we will never understand. But why isn’t it the same for kindness? Why is that when someone is too kind, we automatically feel uncomfortable? We judge their intensions or think they are just pretending to be nice. We think they are being unrealistic. Why is that?”

we get so used to cruelty that kindness feels weird

“But that’s how our life works, doesn’t it? It’s a giant ball of what ifs and could have beens and if nots. What if my father had loved me instead of hurt me? Could I have been kinder if I was hugged instead of being abused? Would have I been a different person if not for my trauma? Our lives are an endless collection of theories about our real selves. The one didn’t we never had the chance to become.”

THIS

I used to spend a bunch of time on the what-ifs but those are useless. so screw the what-ifs and live in the present

“I guess we’ll never know, Jackson. None of us will never know how we would have turned out if things had been different for us. We never got the chance to be who were meant to be. Instead, we became who we had to become to survive what we went through. We will never know our true selves. We only know the version of us that made it through all the trauma.”

“Christ, that’s depressing,” Jackson said.

“It is,” David nodded. “But we made it through. We survived. I think we should focus on that.”

you survived. that's what matters

“There is nothing wrong with wanting to be rescued,” David smiled.

I wish I had heard this before...

maybe I don't always have to be strong. maybe it's ok sometimes just want to be saved.

I'm so happy that both Jackson and David found each other

David had learned Gaelic. Jackson had learned how to play the piano.

They had laughed and lived and loved and learned.

And they had survived – one day at a time. The London Boys.

they survived.

I know I'm always key smashing and screaming but these words, these lines, all these chapters mean so so much to me.

“You’ll write to me, won’t you?” David asked, hugging Jackson closely.

“No,” Jackson replied. “I will FaceTime you like a normal person, you weirdo!”

David laughed at that. “I prefer letters. They are more emotional.”

“I’ll text you,” Jackson countered. “With emojis.”

oh to have someone write me letters.

I love writing letters

once at the end of a school year, I wrote little letters to everyone in my class anonymously. even the people who had been mean to me. that was like 1-2 years after my transfer to that school and everyone practically hated me but I wanted to do something nice because who knows what someone is going through. I ended up not putting them in people's desks...

I threw them all away :)

but writing letters is superior

I often write my feelings down and give the letter to someone rather than talk to someone

if you receive a letter from me or a custom-made gift...you have reached my ultimate friendship

oh my god. THIS IS HOW I SHOULD TALK TO ONE OF MY FRIENDS ABOUT MY FEELINGS

It's kind of been a mess between us and I want to talk to her but I didn't know how to.

this is why i shouldn't send asks-

JACKSON CATCHING UP ON MAX AND DAVID

“You know what it means,” Jackson grinned harder. “Also, if that wanker tries to break your heart, I will break his face.”

“You know he is the Consul’s son?” David giggled.

“I’ve done it once and I will do it again,” Jackson shrugged. “He better treat you right.”

"wanker"

I HAVE A BRITISH ONLINE FRIEND AND THEY CALLED OUR AMERICAN ONLINE FRIEND A WANKER

AND OUR OTHER BRITISH FRIEND JOINED IN

WHILE ALL THE NON-BRITISH PEOPLE WERE LIKE "huh"

Lexi had cut her hair even shorter. Her girlfriend apparently got something called an undercut.

“Just in case someone dared to assume we were straight,” she had winked at him.

how many years has this fake dating been going on...

CENTURION SELENA

fterA the twins went to bed, David stepped out of the institute and went looking for his heart.

"went looking for his heart"

OH FUCK I FORGOT TO JOIN MY CLASS

MAX STOP DEPLETING YOUR SELF GODDAMN

And then somewhere along the way, Max’s heartbeat had become the steadiest thing in David’s life.

Max, with all his chaos and drama and danger, had become the steadiest thing in David’s life.

oh my god that's a parallel from canon

“Tell me why.”

“Ain't nothing but a heart break!!"

Max-

Max could make fireballs that killed demons on the spot. He could summon things from anywhere. He could heal people with his eyes closed. He was one of the youngest warlocks allowed to visit the spiral labyrinth.

Max was a warlock in every sense. A good one. A great one even.

he is so talented...

Only idiots would underestimate Magnus Bane’s power.

EXACTLY

He is probably going to be Consul like next week.”

David chuckled. “Next week?”

next week????

“Yeah, his smoking habits,” Max rolled his eyes.

Rafael wasn’t the smoker in the family. He knew who it was, but David would never open his mouth. It wasn’t his secret to tell.

this keeps on getting better

“It’s my hair!” David laughed.

“And you’re my David!” Max argued. “I say you are not allowed to grow your hair.”

MY DAVID

MY DAVID

MY DAVID

“I don’t want to downworld-splain it to you.”

Max blinked and then laughed. “You don’t want to what?”

“Downworld-splain,” David mumbled. “It’s when shadowhunters explain downworlders how to be downworlders.”

they were SO close to kissing

I'm gonna get in there and lock them in a closet together and tell them to FUCKING GET WITH IT

Remember who you are. Remember where you stand.

remember who you are. remember where you stand...

I know this is supposed to be about portals.

OH MY GOD THEY KISSED

THEY KISSED

IM SO CLOSE TO SCREAMING CLASS AND EVERYONE OUTSIDE THIS ROOM BE DAMNED

OH MY GOD DAVID FELL

reminds me of when alec fell down the stairs-

OH MY GOD I'M GONNA SCREAM

WE'RE GONNA GET MORE MAVID CONTENT SOON I'M SCREAMING INTERNALLY UYDRVFY7VSDU7UYVFSDUYGCADUYIGJCDSHJKGDVCSUGISDVHVF

ok, I have a computer assignment to get to and tests to study for. BUT I LOVED THIS CHAPTER SO SO MUCH!! THEY FINALLY KISSED I'M SO HAPPY!!!!!

Also I know I tend to go off track and you can totally ignore that. i just go crazy. BYEE

This live blog gives me so much life you don't even know. I am go glad you enjoyed the chapter. I love hearing you rant about it. It's refreshing lol.

And I looooooove the lil anecdotes you share in between. Also wtf is a programming class like nobody wants to learn programme what kind of hetero nonsense I-

FINISH YOUR ASSIGNMENTS AND STUDY FOR YOUR TESTS I'LL SEE YOU SOON :)

[darkdevasofdestruction]

A Zhang Of Redness ~ Yin Zhen x Reader

Warning: The first part has some angst to fluff, yet, if you’re brave enough to read the “Sad Ending”, then I warn you, I cried at least 6 times reading it, and 5 times at night, thinking about how to write it properly, all while listening to sad flute and zither ancient Chinese songs. I may need help.

Also, I forgot to explain, in case people don’t know:

Meimei - Term for younger sister. Jiejie - Term for older sister. Niangniang - Term for someone above in title, like an Empress or a Noble Consort. Changzai -  First-Class Female Attendant, called ‘Present’, and was the 2nd lowest title in the harem. Daying -  Second-Class Female Attendant, called ‘Promise’, lowest title in the harem. Hua Fei - It can vary as a title, but it refers to an Imperial Noble Consort. A Zhang of Redness - One of the 5 punishments from Qing Dynasty : Beating someone over the back, butt or the back of their legs with a some sort of bamboo or wooden bat/cane/rod until the tendons/muscles/bones were crushed, there was lots of blood, and the person either died or became paralysed from waist down.

Also, I got inspiration from watching the Chinese Period Drama ‘Empresses in the Palace/Legend of Zhen Huan’ that focuses on the Harem during the reign of Emperor Yongzheng, aka Yin Zhen, the 4th Prince, and Duke Guo is the 17th Prince, his brother, very young, and very close to him

“Now, Y/N, you and your sisters are of age, so you must go serve the Emperor. It will bring our family the greatest honour should you be selected as a concubine for the Emperor and bring a Prince into this world.” the father put his hands on Y/N’s shoulders, making her look at him with a blank expression, masking her disdain and disgust with excellence. “We are honoured to serve and serve our family and His Majesty, the Emperor.” she bowed gracefully, speaking with an adult maturity that many would envy. “Very well. Take care of your sisters. The Palace is a cruel place, but you, above all, must prevail and bring your sisters up with you.” were the last words her father spoke before sending off his three daughters into the carriage, ready to go with the ‘reaping’, as the eldest would call it.

Unlike her younger siblings, she prayed not to be accepted, since it would be the worst thing that could happen to her and she’d rather die than have to live in eternal imprisonment, having an old man touch her body and impregnate her, despite him being the Emperor himself.

When the three of them arrived at the Palace, and she saw the swarm of girls dressed the same, with the same accessories and hairstyles, she almost felt like puking, although she couldn’t blame them, since that’s how this lame fashion dictates.

She was the only one standing out, much like a sore thumb, completely different, both in appearance and clothing, which made her anxious and nervous, knowing very well how she will be the target of bullying, and in turn, deflect it to her unfortunate sisters as well.

Y/N was the only woman with vibrant red hair and green eyes like the evergreen forest, for her father is an Imperial merchant, and her mother was a foreigner, the most beautiful being alive, that could even compare to the Gods, and yet, the very same Gods she worshipped were cruel to her, as when she gave birth to the twins, she perished, leaving her husband heartbroken and alone to take care of his three daughters.

She didn’t wear any headpiece, nor had any intricate hairstyles, preferring to keep the upper part of her hair in a beautiful rose bun, while the lower part was let loose to cascade past her shoulders, down to her waist, like a fire waterfall. She didn’t use heavy make up, only choosing to highlight her eyes and bring out the shrewdness and brilliance in them. She didn’t wear any jewellery, save for some beautiful pink flowers carefully placed in her hair. She didn’t wear heels, for she was taller than most petite girls, and didn’t want to stand out more than she already did, and of course, she didn’t need them to highlight her grace and dignity. And, most of all, she didn’t wear the traditional clothes that every girl did, instead, worse a long, flowy dress, green, with flowers of a darker, more vibrant green - A dress that suit her like she was the embodiment of Spring, and her slender silhouette was shown off beautifully - Because, after all, this was the dress her mother sew specifically for her in the period while she was pregnant.

When the time finally came for her to present herself in front of the Emperor and the Empress Dowager, the six women walked in a straight line, in front of the Imperials...Only to see a little surprise.

Seven of his sons were there to attend, for one of them were to one day become Emperor, and they must know how things must be done.

“You...You are Y/N, I see. When your father mentioned you were beautiful, just like your mother, I couldn’t believe there could be someone even greater than Diaochan or Yang Guifei.” the Emperor chuckled, looking down at her. “Your Majesty, pardon my rudeness, yet truly, you must jest. My face does not put flowers to shame, nor does it embarrass Mother Moon herself. Likewise, I would say I that...That there are other women in history that would fit me better, should you truly wish to compare me.” she could feel the intrigued, burning gazes of everyone, and it took everything she had not to visibly gulp or show any kind of emotion. “Raise, child, and look at me. Who would you think I should compare you to?” the Emperor so gracefully talked, with the same dignity that any Imperial must have, yet now, it seemed to be warmer. “Tan Yunxian.” she spoke bluntly, her green eyes not wavering as she held eye contact with the Emperor. “Tan Yunxian...You are a bold one to speak like that. You are a sharp woman, intelligence is obviously sparkling in your eyes, you know what you want from life, and you choose to be branded a witch by practicing the medical arts that only men do and risk death, instead of aiming for a peaceful and resourceful life as a wealthy concubine and bring honour to your father. Why is that?” he asked once again, which made her bow, but not look away from him. “Most people tell the gender of a rabbit by its movement: The male runs quickly, while the female often keeps her eyes shut. But when the two rabbits run side by side, Can you really discern whether I am a he or a she? That is my reply to your question, and I would beg you to forgive my rudeness by speaking so directly, but this was never the life that fit me. The only arts that suit me are the exact ones - Healing, Calculus, Atrology, Physics, Alchemy...My sisters are much better at the arts of the heart, but I prefer to make a difference on this world. Too many women preferred to let themselves die because of scrutiny - A woman should rather starve to death than lose her chastity - they said, yet, for me, life is a sacred gift and should be treasured above all. There are no female physicians in the palace, Your Majesty, and males cannot fully comprehend the pains of a woman, nor can they properly treat one. With your grace, should you choose not to kill me, I would very much like to serve the Emperor with the way fate dictated my strengths.” she spoke without any hint of fear in her heart, already waiting for her death penalty to be told, and yet, the Emperor chuckled and looked to his right, sharing a look with one of his sons, the one dressed in vibrant gold, the one whose eyes resembled his the most. “My son, I see you are interested in this one as well. Tell me, what would you do, should you meet someone as peculiar as this one?” the Emperor asked, letting him have the final say in it. “She quotes the Ballad of Mulan so boldly, as if she herself is Mulan. Do you remember, Father, that in some stories, when Mulan was forced to join the Harem, she chose to commit suicide? I see this one none the wiser. With the proper training, she could prove to save more lives than most of those useless physicians could, I would say. She has enough fire and ambition...But What if she wavers in front of dangers?” the 4th Prince asked, almost rhetorically, only for his older brother, the 3rd Prince, to chime in. “Let’s see, then.” he shrugged, motioning for an eunuch to step forward. “Should you be able to keep looking into my eyes for the whole trial, your position as a physician will be locked.” the 4th Prince mused, his dark eyes peering into her jade like ones, and it seemed almost as if they were in a trance, and nothing around them existed anymore.

The little eunuch threw water at her feet, yet she nonchalantly stepped over it with no second thought. They made loud noises behind her, or close to her ear, yet her only interest was the beautiful dark shade of the Prince’s eyes. The test continued on, until the Prince walked forward and drew his sword, putting the tip under her chin, raising it. The silence created tension for everyone, causing her sisters to gasp and hold tightly onto each other from fear, while some labourers were confused and panicked at the sight before them, while the two only got deeper and deeper enchanted by the other. It wasn’t until one of the Gugu matrons stepped forwards with a cat held in her arms and threw it at the ground violently that the girl slapped the blade away and let herself fall to her knees to catch the poor feline, then rose back again, gently petting and calming the animal, while throwing a harsh glare at the elder woman, before turning back again to the Prince.

“You lost the trial.” he said, yet mischief was glittering in his beautiful eyes. “Life over all. ALL life over all.” she pointed out, stepping closer to the Prince, and as soon as she knew she was completely hidden by his much larger form, she smirked at him, challengingly, which made him scoff in amusement right back at her. “You lost the trial, but won the position with your virtuous, unwavering heart. Father, with your approval, I will be responsible of her, and she will be my personal physician, and the physician of all the women in the palace. Her thinking is mature, righteous and ahead of her times.” the Prince bowed in front of his father, vouching for the girl next to him, who could only look in shock at the Imperial Son who seemed to trust her so. “I dare not deserve such baseless praise. Wait until I have achieved anything of significance.” she bowed next to the Prince, letting the cat go back to its owner. “Very well, I approve of your request. From now on, Lady Y/N shall be promoted to Lady Shuyu, the Wise and Virtuous Lady, she will be taught by the imperial physicians and will report directly to you, 4th Prince. Likewise, she will be staying at the Palace closest to the Imperial Library, yet, I believe I should change its name, since it needs renovation. Do you have any preferences?” the Emperor asked, as the girl was bashfully looking at the ground, not believing that her dreams were finally becoming reality. “Father, if I may, I would suggest - Palace of the Blue Lotus - for it is the symbol of victory, intelligence, wisdom and knowledge, something that My Lady seems to be the embodiment of. I heard it once being called - The Perfection of Wisdom - and I believe it fits her very well. Look at her, with her outfit and hair, she almost looks like a Lotus flower herself, wouldn’t you say?” the 3rd Prince commented, making the Emperor nod in approval. “Very well, I agree with you, 3rd Prince. Then, Lady Y/N, until your Palace is completely renovated, you will be staying at 4th Prince’s Palace and have him look after you.” the Emperor’s order made her eyes widen and cheeks redden from embarrassment, yet she gracefully bowed in thanks for the Emperor. “Your Majesty is benevolent and kind above all, I thank you for giving me a chance.” she spoke in a much softer voice. “Look at this one, she can be anything she wants. A Hua Mulan, a Diaochan...Yet, above all, I believe she could even be the next Wu Zetian, wouldn’t you say, my Son?” the Empress Dowager spoke with a gentle smile, which made the girl gasp and bow to the ground, flustered. “Your Highness, I am undeserving of such praise! I am but a mere woman who wishes the best for her peers, but I will never be able to get close to Wu Zetian’s greatness!” she spoke rapidly, not daring raise her face to them, only to receive chuckles and laughs from the audience. “She may not be the next Wu Zetian, but she may as well be the first Y/N L/N.” the 4th Prince teased the girl as he offered his hand to help her to her feet, before pinching her reddening cheek. “Indeed, indeed! But what should I make of your sisters? You say they are talented in arts, correct? Then, I will accept them, and wait for the time they can heal my soul with their magic and grace.” the Emperor’s eyes held amusement, as all three sisters bowed in unison. “Your Majesty is great and kind above all.” 

And so, for the first time in their life, the sisters were separated from each other. While the twins enjoyed a palace to themselves and another high ranked concubine, Y/N was comfortably staying in 4th Prince’s Palace, having just one trusty maid, for more would be a hindrance, and dressing in whatever comfortable clothes she wished to wear, sown by her and her maid.

She wasn’t a fan of sewing, but she practiced it regularly because she believed having dexterous fingers meant you would be a great physician, so she continued her work, using the softest cotton bolts brought from Western countries, and she made a beautiful light pink nightgown along with a pair of shorts and embroidered small purple flowers, and since then, her sleep has been the best she’s ever had... Although the silks from her bed must have added to the comfort as well.

As thanks for the Prince, the girl decided to sew a blue pyjama from the cotton, Western bolts for the Prince with whom she was residing, and used Chinese threads of gold and violet to embroider dragons on it, wanting to make a little play on the Western symbols of royalty.

Days passed way too quickly in the Palace, as the 4th Prince was excellent company and would humour her often with a cup of tea and a lost game of chess since truly, he wasn’t the best at it yet, but the quick exchanges of wit were worth the time spent there.

When she wasn’t by his side, she would go to the swing in the Garden of Peaches all by herself and swing herself high, almost as if she was trying to reach the sky, and when returning, she would let herself lean down, to watch the clouds, all while laughing in complete freedom, just like the tale of the Crane Wife.

Every time she would stop swinging, she would take out her jade flute and, unbeknownst to her, the Prince would hide just to hear her play with such skill and emotion that it truly moved him, and he had to admit, the saddest song she played, Autumn Moon over Han Palace, the one that truly depicts the cruelty with which the young and innocent souls of young women get crushed in the palace, only to be rewarded with misfortunes and sorrow, and he knew then that there was no way he would let anyone harm her.

The Emperor made him look after her, and so, he will.

“4th Prince, now that I shall not be living in your Palace anymore, I should thank you for your hospitability and kindness for the time I bothered you and invaded your privacy. Please accept my humble gifts for you, as a thank you for all the goodness you’ve showed me.” she personally handed him the boxes of gifts, since it was too personal to let her maid handle this matter. “I thank you for the gifts, yet you need not thank me for something so trivial. Congratulations in moving in your own Palace, little Lotus, but don’t forget that this has been your home too, and you are always welcomed here. I have also sent you gifts at your new residence, I wish you will use them with a smile on your face.” the prince spoke, putting the boxes on the table and petting her hair gently. “Without all the snark and witty comments, I almost don’t recognise you, Yin Zhen. Could you perhaps be ill?” she scoffed in amusement, making the man flick her forehead. “Going by how red your cheeks are, I’d say you’re the one who caught a fever.” he spoke with an obvious undertone. “How rude of you, Prince! Don’t you know it’s unfair to tease a lady?” she pointed out with a flustered scowl on her face. “Sister, weren’t you the one who once that that if a man teases a woman, he must be in love with her?” a soft, yet playful voice came from behind Y/N, which made her yelp in surprise and turn around in shock. “You’re horrible sisters, you know that, don’t you? I only said that so you’d feel good about your little, young selves, when the general’s son came over to visit father!” she sighed, looking away. “He doesn’t matter anymore! Now, look at you, the most favoured woman in the Palace by the Emperor, the Empress, the Dowager AND the Princes! We couldn’t compete with that, even now that we both served the Emperor and we were barely given the title of “Changzai”, and that’s mostly thanks to your influence and the fact that you helped the Lady of Morality give birth to the Princess.” Liyan spoke out, tugging on one of the arms of the elder sister. “It’s a bit weird if you think about it. Y/N Jiejie is over here, falling for the Emperor’s son, while we are pillow mates with the Emperor. He’s older than father!” Xiyan spoke so shamelessly, tugging on the other arm, that it made the poor elder sister blush deeply, and putting her hands on the back of their heads, she hit their heads together. “Liyan Meimei and Xiyan Meimei should learn how to be less vulgar and have some shame! Now, if you would excuse me, I must go do a regular check up on the Noble Consort’s pregnancy, I have no time for your foolish nonsense. I bid you all farewell.” she gave a sarcastic bow to the three before rushing out of that place. “I haven’t seen Jiejie so flustered before. Remember when that young poet came over and started playing the zither and singing for her, and she still turned him down?” Xiyan giggled, intertwining her fingers with her twin. “Yes, I remember! And it was the famous JiKang, the best zither player in the country! It’s a pity, really, I remember Jiejie saying how much she’d have liked to be free and travel the world, but she has to honour her duty to her family, otherwise she will be a disgrace and get killed.” Liyan sighed, looking away. “If your sister heard you gossiping like that about her, she’d get very upset at you. Now run along, you two.” Yin Zhen commented with a hint of playfulness, ushering the two sisters to scatter.

Days and nights went by fast, and Y/N was quickly climbing the ranks of a physician due to her hard working and witty disposition, and yet, when winter came and snow started falling hard, and the Consort was now 5 months pregnant, and need to have her regular check up.  As Y/N gave her the medicine to drink, the consort started screaming in pain and collapsed on the bed, her nether regions bleeding. She was having a miscarriage. With the help of a few maids and physicians, she managed to stop the bleeding and keep her stable, but she knew very well it would be hell once everyone finds out about the loss of the Imperial offspring...

And the consort was a truly vengeful one.

“How could you...?! How could you?! You insolent wretch, you made me lose my child!” the consort was livid, thrown things at the girl who was trying to calm her down. “Hua Fei Niangniang, what have you been eating and drinking recently? Perhaps there may have been something put in your food or tea? Or perhaps the fragrances or incenses?” she tried to ask, but it was to no avail. The consort was so upset that the Emperor himself, along with the Empress, the Dowager, the Harem and the Princes had to come and console her. “Emperor! Emperor! This stupid bitch is jealous that you favour me and made sure I have a miscarriage! It happened just as I drank the medicine from her!” the consort threw herself in the Emperor’s arms, sobbing loudly. “Medicine takes at least half a day to act, and you barely took a sip from it. I’m asking again, has your food and drink intake been properly taken care of?” Y/N asked once again, in a gentle voice, hoping to have an answer...But none came, only screeches. “You vile devil! You came here to have all women of the Harem miscarry! You want favour all to yourself! That’s why you walk around the Princes like a fox, drawing them in! You’re a lust demon! Get the guards and take her! Make her punishment be fitting to her hair! A Zhang of Redness!” she shrieked, making all the women gasp in shock. “Your Highness, I have nothing to do with Niangniang’s miscarriage. You can have any physician look over the tea I prepared and all the prescriptions I gave her, and none of them hold any abortifacient plants. I rest my case, and I will investigate the causes of the miscarriage, and should it have been my mistake, I will accept such a punishment. If not, then I beg for Your Majesty’s mercy.” Y/N bowed deeply to the ground in front of the Emperor, who seemed to nod in understanding. “Very well. I won’t offer you much time, but until then, you have all resources at hand. Everyone is dismissed.” and thus, they all left...Except for the 4th Prince who crouched and helped the girl up, his expression unreadable. “You truly know how to get yourself in trouble, don’t you?” he spoke with obvious concern. “Though I withdraw my sword to cut the water, it still runs. I toast to dispel worry, and create more worry…The water still flows, though we cut it with our swords, And sorrow returns, though we drown it with wine…” she muttered, looking ahead of her, in the void of emptiness that became her heart. “You once said you were not talented in arts, yet here you are, quoting Li Bai. You will always be a surprise, won’t you?” Yin Zhen cast her a half smile, which she returned. “It only fits. Now go. The Emperor will have my head should I let a man rummage through a woman’s belongings.” she sighed, turning around to investigate the place, while hearing the taunts of the consort...Until she found a cup that oddly smelled like green papaya, and a mortar and pestle that still had some cinnamon and pomegranate seeds powder in it. Afraid that the consort would realise she found the incriminatory objects, she took out a bag and threw it on the table, feigning that she putting all her medical belongings back in the bag, only to have the cup and mortar taken as well, and with a bow, she hurried to her Palace to study them.

She didn’t know much about such plants since they weren’t exactly used in medicine, and yet, she had to study them, while hiding the bag with incriminatory objects very well.

It was a cold, yet beautiful snowy night, and Y/N felt so crushed by fear from the recent events, that without realising, stepped outside, her feet dragging her to Yin Zhen’s Palace, and she had no idea until his Eunuch spoke to her, welcoming her inside and scolding her for not wearing something warmer, before having the maids prepare tea and telling the Prince about her arrival.

Silence took over them as they played chess and drinking tea, yet her mind was somewhere else completely, making her lose for the first time...But he wasn’t surprised in the least.

“What did you find out?” he asked bluntly. “Do you hate me, Yin Zhen?” she asked, using one of her silver ring claws to stir the tea in her cup. “Why would you ask something like that...? Do you suspect me of framing you, or what?” he asked, shock obvious in his voice, until he realised the tears that were falling down her face. “Then...Why...? I...I thought you...Of all people...Wouldn’t...” Y/N was unable of cursive, coherent words as she raised her finger to eye level, showing that the silver claw became back. “I did NOT poison your tea! Shu Pei Gong, who prepared this tea? I want them brought here and held responsible right now!” the rage the Prince felt was immense, but he knew now to let feelings overtake his ration. “What did I do to deserve such hatred...? I’m not part of the harem, I never hurt anyone, I’ve always been respectful and helped everyone, I never wished for promotions, titles, ranks or favours...So why...Why...?! Why is this happening to me?!” she cried out, her heart suffering greatly, enough so that before he could say anything, she ran out again, taking a shortcut through the Plum garden, where she let herself fall to the ground, the freezing cold unbothering to her, as she felt as cold as ice from the constant heartache she suffered.

She hated the colour red, it was everywhere, yet people didn’t understand why she’d despise such a beautiful colour. It was the colour of her hair, the colour of Maple leaves, the colour of Plum blossoms, and of course, the colour of blood.

Blood, for that’s all she was seeing - Laying there, on the pure white snow, crystals falling from the sky, covering her in a soft blanket, the shade of her skin, contrasting her hair, her flowers and...The blood from her injury.

But as the dark abyss of death started taking over her senses, she saw two little jades that appeared and disappeared just like shy will’o’wisp spirit orbs.

What was in her head, running away like that, in the dead of such a freezing night, and why the Plum Garden that is like a crimson maze that could have served as her resting place.

Who would have known she would be so sensitive, Yin Zhen thought, and yet, he is her confidante, and she thought he poisoned her, which would be a shock for everyone, especially after everything going on in her life.

She looked so petite in his large bed, in his own pyjamas, as her own clothes were soaked from the snow and she’s already shivering, the last thing he’d want is for her to get deadly ill.

“Your Majesty, a blow to the back of her head with a blunt object cause her collapse and fainting, but the coldness worsened her health. She will need to rest and take medicine regularly. And...As much as possible, she must not stress, mentally, emotionally or physically.” the physician bowed to the Prince as he sat on the edge of the bed, gingerly brushing away the hair from her face. “Easier said than done when you’re dealing with such a stubborn hard-head...You may go now. I will look after her.” the Prince dismissed the physician who kowtow-ed and left the place that got quiet...So quiet...Save for her unconscious shivering. “What will I do with you, Y/N? How can I save you when you run away from me?” he muttered, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “You should have left me there.” a soft whisper was her, as the girl opened her glistering eyes. “Don’t speak such nonsense.” he scolded her, yet his eyes were gentle. “What is death if not a blessing in disguise? For unfortunate people like me, only followed by misfortune...What is there to live for? Instead of investigating her case, I should have let her punish me. It would have been less painful than my discovery.” her voice was devoid of any life, yet the tears that delicately made their ways down her cheeks were enough proof of sorrow and heart break. “What are you talking about, Y/N? What did you discover?” he asked, his attention not wavering from her. “Wu Zetian? Diaochan? Hua Mulan? Tan Yunxian? Yang Guifei? What the hell was in my head? The only thing I could share with them is a broken heart. Why did I even dare to think that I, as a woman, would have any chance to achieve happiness and freedom? I can’t even try to be Lin Siniang, for I have no martial arts, and I can’t go and die in battle for someone. I’m completely and utterly useless.” the girl sighed, turning her back to the Prince, letting her hair drape over her face to avoid being seen. “Y/N, I am your confidante, tell me what happened. When you feel like you can’t trust anyone, not even your family, or the world, I will be here to listen and be honest with you, no matter what. I promise.” he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace, stroking her hair to calm her down, yet in only generated in her sobbing. “When I was struck and fell, I feigned being dead. I kept my eyes half-open, and I didn’t blink. I stopped breathing and looked up at the sky. And despite my blurring vision, I saw a pair of green orbs. And then, I heard a giggle, and a word. Just one word. You know what it was? They said - Finally - and then left. Do you understand what I mean, Yin Zhen?” she asked, letting go of him and looking him straight in the eyes. “You don’t mean...?” his eyes widened with surprise, not having expected something like that. “When I investigated the consort’s room, I found a cup that smelled of papaya and a mortar with cinnamon and pomegranate seeds. When she wasn’t looking, I stole them and went home to read more about these. My sisters visited me that night and we discussed about those items...And it was then that I found out that those plants cause natural, spontaneous abortions. They said they were worried about me...And then...They snitched on me to the consort. My maid warned me there were suspicious people lurking around so I secretly left my Palace and came to yours after taking the longest and darkest route. Somehow, they managed to make me paranoid enough by poisoning my tea in your own house...And I got scared and ran away. I was going to seek refuge at the Dowager, until the consort’s eunuch found me and yanked me over the head. That’s when I saw my sister’s eyes...The very same eyes that I hold...And most likely, they stole the items from my Palace and disposed of them...So what is there to live for, anyway?” she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder, weeping silently. “You have me and I will help you out. I won’t let anyone punish you, I promise you that.” he cupped her face, making her look at him with her sad, doe-like eyes. “Even if I escape punishment, who can mend my shattered heart? My father never supported my passions, so I did everything in secret...And my own sisters plotted and went against me, for some reason that I’m completely unaware of, considering I always took care of them, sent them any riches I had and got them out of trouble...And there’s no way I will ever escape the hell from the harem wrath, even if I’m not part of it. I am lost with no place to call home and nobody to love me. I should just go end myself with some wine, out in the Plum Garden. It would be a very fitting end with no pain. Very beautiful...Maybe some music would have made it perfect - “ she kept talking in self-deprecation, not realising how it upset the man in front of her, until he stopped her by kissing her with enough fire to begin the melting process over the frozen pieces of her heart, “Stop speaking like that, you are upsetting me. How can I marry you and spend the rest of my life with you by my side, if you let the world get to you and kill you?” he was scolding her in a gentle manner, his hand on top of her head, putting his forehead to hers. “How can I not, when my own sisters, that I raised and took care of since mother died, plotted my death and were happy to see me fall? My own family, Yin Zhen! How can I bare with that?!” her voice was full of emotions of all kinds, desperate to have someone to cling on. “Those who wish ill on you are not your family, even though you are bound by blood. You have me, Y/N. I vow to you, I would never leave you alone. I will always be there for you, no matter what, and I will never let anyone hurt you again.” the man said, making the girl sigh and shake her head. “What are you trying to say, Yin Zhen? There’s only so long until you’ll become the Emperor. Even if you want to, you won’t have the time to even remember I exist. And you will be busy with all your concubines every night. Don’t vow what cannot happen, or you will anger the Gods. Be realistic. You know how I am. I refuse to bare children, I refuse to deal with the harem. I will get jealous, and in the end, you will end up hurting me more than my own family did.” she hung her head, wiping away the stray tears. “When I become Emperor, I will be able to do anything I want to. It’s true, I will need heirs, but that’s what the harem is about, but that doesn’t mean I won’t hold you in my arms every night. You will be Empress, and you will help me with matters of the Palace. If the Consort can deal with the harem now, she can do so when I reign as well. Not to mention, the current Empress favours you, she will be kind with you once she becomes Dowager.” he explained reassuringly, which made her look up at him slowly. “Do you vow you always love me the most and have me and only me as your priority? And you will listen to me when I talk. And we will still hang out at midnight in the Cherry Garden, we will still go swimming, or swinging in the Peach Garden, we will still play the Zither and Flute together and you will still compliment me over the littlest things, no matter what?” Y/N spoke a bit more harshly, to get her point across, which only made the man chuckle. “I vow that I will still be your Confidante, and you will be mine, and things between us won’t change even when I become Emperor. Who else could sew me such comfortable pyjamas and then wear them much better than I do?” he pinched her cheek before kissing her forehead tenderly. “That’s because I have style. Now...Tell me, what should I do?” and her reply came in the form of a scoff of amusement as the Prince pulled her to his chest, making her sit on his lap. “Sometimes I wish you were more ruthless, little fox. But it’s fine, I will be ruthless enough for the both of us. Just trust me, and tomorrow, we’ll go together and prove your innocence once and for all.” he declared in a voice fit for an Emperor, before putting one hand on the back of her neck, while the other was on her waist, and pulling her flush against his chest, he kissed her, gently at first, to make sure she wouldn’t shatter in front of him like a precious china doll, only to gradually become more and more passionate.

And once again, just like when they first met, they locked tender gazes and got lost in their own paradise - You are mine and you can only be mine - He’d think, just for a split second, as he continued kissing and touching her skin, softer than any cloud.

The next day marked the beginning of his vow, as she woke up with his arms draped around her small form and him stroking her hair gently, before they got dressed properly and went to her palace, the Blue Lotus, only to find her maid freaking out and checking her for any injuries.

When they explained to her what happened, Shi Lian grinned and ran to fetch a bag that she buried in a secret place under the snow, revealing the incriminatory objects that she risked so much for. The maid then pointed out that some eunuchs came over and tried to search the place, with the help of one of her sisters, only to find nothing and return fearfully to the noble consort, their mission failed.

Wait until they see she isn’t dead, really.

And so, Yin Zhen baited the sisters into going to the consort’s house, and told the Emperor to wait outside of the door and listen, only interfering if and when he sees fit.

“4th Prince, what ever could be the reason for summoning us like that?” the consort asked with a feign-innocent smirk o her face. “I believe it’s high time to finish investigating a crime, correct, consort? The mystery behind your miscarriage?” Yin Zhen’s eyes were sharp, yet victorious. “Ahh, yes, but wasn’t it confirmed to be that woman physician’s negligence?” she preferred to fake admiring her hand jewellery, instead of looking at the prince. “That is quite the narrative you painted, isn’t it? Painted with her blood, and the blood of my father’s offspring. Clearly, there is no shameful level of low-ness that you wouldn’t stoop to, just to gain my father’s attention and favour, isn’t it? Even going as far as to frame the only physician who would properly be able to heal you and the women of the Palace. She fought hard to convince my Imperial Father, the Emperor, to allow her to be a medicine practitioner, with you in her mind, not her own well-being. You must truly be cruel and desperate to want to get the Emperor’s favour that badly, again. You must know you’re getting old and ugly, and you won’t be my Father’s favourite anymore...And his favourites will be the newer concubines...Like Y/N’s sisters, who have unique, green eyes, unlike all the other women here.” the Prince hit the nail spot on, making the consort look at him with fear and indignation. “U-Uhm, Prince, I know you favoured Y/N Jiejie, but why are you dragging us into this?” Liyan asked cautiously. “Because the consort came to you with an alliance - If you get rid of Y/N, you won’t bully the sisters for being young and favoured. However, the sisters were jealous of Y/N of having favour from everyone without having to conform to the norms every woman has to, for she is not a concubine, therefore, she had nothing to fight for except your lives. To think that her own sisters that she took care of would plot her own demise without a single speck of regret. You caught her when she was most vulnerable, alone, in the Plum Garden, then had some eunuch strike her over the head with a wooden bat. Truly horrific to think family would behave like this.” the Prince played the detective part, explaining the story he heard from the girl herself. “What gives you the right to accuse us of such treacheries?! We would never hurt Jiejie!” Xiyan growled at the man, only for a surprise to happen, as the woman in cause entered the scene dramatically. “Wouldn’t you?” Y/N asked in a low voice, earning gasps of shock from the 3 other women. “J-Jiejie! You’re alright! You’re alive!” Xiyan’s lips quivered, as her eyes were darting between her sister and the consort. “Why wouldn’t I be alive, Xiyan Meimei? Was something supposed to happen that would guarantee my imminent death?” Y/N tilted her head slightly to the side, staring deep into her sister’s eyes, searching for the truth. “N-No, of course not! Why ever would you claim something so cruel?” Xiyan chuckled nervously, walking a few feet backwards. “All my life I thought myself the family disappointment since I never was the perfect woman that father wanted me to be, to bring honour to the family...But I know for sure that I never raised a liar or a traitor. You are a disappointment. To think you’d partner up with the consort to kill me, and then, when I talked to you about the evidence I found in her palace, you’d try to kill me and steal the objects. My maid is my family more than you ever were.” Y/N shook her head in disappointment, taking out the bag, which made the three women widen their eyes in horror, knowing very well what was going to happen. “Look at them, they are already pissing themselves with fear. They know what is in them.” Yin Zhen scoffed at them. “This is the consort’s cup, from which she drank Green Papaya juice...And this is a mortar in which cinnamon and pomegranate seeds were crushed into a powder. All of these are known to naturally induce abortions, so it’s no wonder she had a miscarriage when I gave her the medicine. You wanted the attention and to kill me, so what better way to do so than to frame me, punish me yourself, and have the Emperor hate me and potentially kill me? A Zhang of Redness, you said. How cruel of you, Consort.” Y/N taunted her once again, showing the evidence, putting them on the table. “You’re insane! This is a conspiracy! You have 4th Prince’s and you got him to conspire against me! You’re the worst!” the Consort shrieked at the girl, almost getting physically aggressive, until the Emperor himself stepped in the room. “That’s enough! How shameless can you be? I understand being jealous of the women of the harem, but of someone who is here only to save your lives? Impertinent!” the Emperor’s booming voice resounded throughout the room, drowning out the consort’s whinings for a little while. “Y/N, you have been the wronged one here, I will let their punishment be of your choosing, no matter how harsh. I will take my leave now, I cannot stand to look at these wretches anymore.” and so, he left the place, letting the consort grovel on the ground, helplessly, shrieking in the worst high-pitched voice. “All’s well when it ends well, I’d say.” Y/N muttered, looking at her two little sisters. “What do you two have to say in your defense?” “We are sorry, Y/N Jiejie, we were wrong! Please, forgive us!” the twins jumped on her, hugging her tightly, stunning the poor girl. “How cruel. You know she’s soft hearted so you try to play her again. You are shameless leeches.” Yin Zhen spoke out, seeing the conflict in his lover’s eyes...Only for her to gasp suddenly and widen her eyes in shock. “Finally...Huh? You’re truly the worst...Yin Zhen told me to be more ruthless...Perhaps I should begin now.” with a pained expression on her face, she pushed the sisters away from her, revealing the bleeding stab wound from her abdomen. “How many more times are you going to try to kill me? As many times needed until you finally succeed...But you think a tiny blade like this will do the trick? If poison, a bat to the head and the freezing cold didn’t kill me, this is nothing more than a mosquito’s bite for me.” Y/N looked at Liyan with disgust as she snatches away the dagger by the blade, throwing it away.  “Y/N...!” Yin Zhen looked in horror at the wound that kept bleeding and bleeding, staining the green material of her beautiful dress. “This all began when you wanted to punish me with A Zhang of Redness. My hair is red. The Plum blossoms are red. My spilled blood was red as well. Now, it’s your turn. All three of you, I punish you with a Zhang of Redness, and should you live, I will take away all your titles and riches. Hopefully, you will see what I felt when I realised that death would be a blessing, rather than living. Enjoy your lives as paralysed traitors, you three.” despite the single tear straying down her face, Y/N’s eyes were cold and merciless, at least just for then, as hearing her little sisters scream, sob and plea for her to have mercy on them and forgive them was something that unavoidably crushed her, but there was nothing she could do about it anymore. “Every day with you is like watching a dramatic tragedy at the opera.” the prince sighed, picking her up carefully and bringing her to his palace, so the physicians would tend to her wound. “Isn’t my life a tragedy enough as it is, without you having to remind me?” she scoffed, turning away from him. “It won’t be anymore, my dear. I promise you.” and with that, Yin Zhen embraced Y/N once again, taking away all her sorrows, at least for the night, and many more other nights.

~~~ I also have a Sad Ending, read at your own risk. If I were you, I wouldn’t read it, but we all know how some need angst to live ~~~

But years passed faster than the blink of an eye, and as the norm asked for, problems still surrounded everyone in the Palace, since it wouldn’t be the Imperial Court otherwise.

It was needless to say was still mourning not having her sisters around anymore, as one of them died, while the other remained paralysed in the Cold Palace, and as soon as her father came by to sell his Western products and found out the fate of his children, he blamed Y/N for being heartless and bringing dishonor to their family by being the complete opposite of what a woman should be.

And so...They weren’t so young anymore, but double the age from when they met, and Yin Zhen now became Emperor Yongzheng, and Y/N was his Empress, just as promised.

At first, he was loyal to his vow - No matter who he’d be forced to visit for the night, he’d still return to her and hold her in his arms until the light of morning creeped through the windows, waking them up, but time is a feeble enemy, and words are easily forgotten.

Daily, became Weekly, just like Weekly, became Monthly.

He would barely come by to visit, let alone spend the night with her, and meals together were as scarce as trustworthy people in the palace.

Every day, she was forced to wake up and get ready to welcome all the concubines who had to pay their respects to her, only to be mocked for not being the Emperor’s favourite anymore.

It wasn’t like she couldn’t complain too much to the Dowager, as she already tried to remind her Son multiple times not to forget and neglect his own Empress, his own wife and beloved for so many ages, and yet, it only worked for a little time, and so, realising how she was being problematic to everyone by complaining about her loneliness, only to get shut down and reminded that that is the fate of any woman...

A woman, more alone now than ever before.

She would often go out to the special places she shared with Yin Zhen, often lost in thought, as memories kept flooding her mind and damaging her heart, only to realise that no matter how much she’d try to keep herself busy, her mind would still fly over to him.

She would try to practice the flute and zither from dusk till dawn, and even to the latest hours in the night, only for him not to even remember she could play, and asking the younger, pretties concubines to play, at all banquets held.

She would practice all kinds of intricate dances, wearing the flowiest of dresses that looked like the river, only to hear that she should settle for clothing fit for her age, and see him dancing with other women in the light of the moon.

She would sew random brocades and threads in whatever piece of garment she could think of, only to then throw it in the fire in frustration, knowing he hasn’t worn anything she’s made for him lately.

She would practice calligraphy until the candles were almost burnt and her eyes were burning from the sleep depravation and straining, only to rip the books apart, noticing the tears, smudges and shakiness on the pages.

For a while, she refused to leave her palace completely, only to realise her thoughts were much darker when alone, so she would walk through the secluded gardens and weep on the now deserted swing from the Peach Garden.

No matter how much she tried, her poor maid, Shi Lian, could never make her happy again, for the only one who can mend a broken heart is the one who threw it to the ground in the first place, but he was too busy with others, and Shi Lian was so angry at the Emperor, pitying the poor woman, especially since she, herself, was married and with children.

But she was happy, and Y/N was at least happy for her good fortune. At least she, her only friend, deserves to be happy.

On one winter day, the Emperor held a banquet, declaring that a famous Zither player would entertain them, and as customs said, the Empress must, too, attend, but big was her shock when she recognised that beautiful and otherwise stoic man with silver hair, whose emotions coloured the worlds while playing the instrument, and she couldn’t help but cry when she heard ‘Autumn Moon over the Han Palace’ and ‘Plum-Blossoms in Three Movements’ , songs which reminded her of her younger self, and the time he started courting her, before she chose duty over happiness and entered the Palace.

What a foolish decision. Instead of living for herself, she always lived for others, which only caused her sorrow and misfortune. Maybe she deserves it, and this is her karma for being such an idiot.

After the banquet was ready, she went to talk to the musician alone, who clearly recognised her as soon as he first laid his eyes upon her still beautiful face.

“Not even time can destroy such beauty. My heart is happy seeing you again, Y/N. And I see you became the Empress.” JiKang spoke, his voice warmer now than with anyone else. “Time is cruel, for it destroys words and promises. I am an Empress over nothing but the ashes of my own heart and the disrespect I receive from everyone. You, however, seem to be thriving as usual. I can only guess how many places you’ve visited thus far, and how much you’ve learned over the years. I truly envy you.” she spoke with sorrow and helplessness. “Women are forced to choose duty over themselves. If you, however, wish to defy all laws, my offer still stands.” he spoke, taking her hands in his, rubbing them comfortingly. “If I could turn back time, I would give up everything, just to be with you. To be free. To have someone who wouldn’t lie to me for decades and then forget I exist. I only wished to learn, love, and be happy...But I suppose I was too greedy to even dare wish for good fortune on myself. Which is why, I cannot leave without first talking to the Emperor. If I leave without another word, he would hunt me down, and kill you, above all else, and that is not something that I would ever wish for. I will tell him to fake my death and get another Empress. If he accepts, I will come with you. If not...Then...” she trailed on, sighing, without having the strength to utter those dreaded words. “Then, I will return to you another time and play songs, to mend your heart.” the Zither player promised, only for a brief silence to take over, as her green eyes, once full of life, like the evergreen forest, were as dead as the ashes of a pine tree. “...There will be no next time.” her sentence was coded, but him, as an emotional person, was the one who understood her the best. “Then I shall create a score and play the ‘Requiem for God’s Caged Bird’ and ‘The Lovely Fox Spirit and The Wavering Dragon’ in your honour, wherever I go.” was his last promise to her, as he watched her small form become no more in front of his very eyes.

And it was true, he never saw her, for the discussion between the Emperor and the Empress went as bad as it could get, even going as far as to strike her face, which reminded her of yet another promise that he broke. It should be all of them, by now, she thought, as she looked at him with an exhausted expression.

“You promised me so many things, and in the end, you broke all of them. Thank you, my darling Yin Zhen, for reminding me that I’ve been nothing more than your caged song bird that you forgot and threw in another room, in cold and darkness, to slowly starve and die in agony. The least you could have done was to fake my death and let me be happy, for the few years that I had left on this world. But, of course, nobody from your collection can escape, can they? Next time, I would suggest Zhen Huan, she is a lovely girl, and you love her the most, and in turn, she truly loves you. Just...Make sure not to treat her the same way you did with me...Goodbye, my beloved Yin Zhen. I truly loved you...And I still do.” she spoke...And then she left, not giving him the chance to say another word.

But that all happened during day light, as the next night, the true banquet would take place, to celebrate New Year’s Day, and JiKang would play once again.  And she wasn’t there, just as he’d expected. And he played more beautifully, more emotionally, than he ever did in his entire life, showing how much he cherished her, and how angry and frustrated he is with the Emperor took her away from him, mistreated her, constantly lying and breaking her heart.

“Shi Lian, my dear, why are you still here? You should be with your family, not with some old, pitiful woman like myself.” Y/N spoke from her writing table as she finished a note, putting her seal over it, and folding it so its contents won’t be seen. “Your Majesty, don’t be silly! I am your maid, I will always be here for you!” she chuckled brightly, which made the Empress give her a sad smile, her heart hurting as if impaled, once again. “Well...I won’t be going to the Banquet tonight, that much is clear. I can hear the beautiful music from over here. Here, take this. Give it to the Emperor’s Head eunuch as fast as possible, and tell him to give it to the Emperor when he wakes up in the morning, otherwise, nobody is allowed to read it, okay?” she said, wiping a few tears. “Yes, Your Majesty, I will hurry there right now!” the maid said, but before she left, the Empress rose to her feet, pulling her into an embrace. “Thank you, Shi Lian. You have been my only friend all this time. Thank you for everything. Now, please, after you’re done with this task, go stay with your family. I will have an early night...I am extremely tired.” she stroked her hair, almost in a motherly way, which confused the maid, but nonetheless, smiled at her master. “No, Master, thank you for being the amazing woman that you are. It’s an honour being by your side!” she bowed slightly, before rushing to the door. “Sweet dreams, Y/N Niangniang!” Shi Lian grinned cheerfully before taking off to the palace. “...I’m sure I will.” Y/N sighed, taking a bag and going to the Plum Garden, wearing nothing but her pyjamas.

She sat down on the soft grass, ignoring the cold that was paralysing her senses, and she took out the bottle of red wine, pouring herself a cup, before letting it spill on the ground. Then, she took a sachet, pouring its powdery contents into the bottle, and started rapidly gulping it down, letting the burning sensation in her throat be the only warm part in her body.  When the bottle was finally empty, she put it back in the bag, taking out a beautifully engraved vertical jade flute, that Yin Zhen gifted her after winning the competition where he played the zither, against the Princess of Western Liang, and so, she let all her emotions flow and be scattered all over China, through the wind, propelled by the sound of the instrument, all while the snowflakes were beautifully dancing around her, creating different accessories embellished with ice, that would set down on her, making her look like a Snow Empress.

If it weren’t for the tragic truth, she would look almost ethereal - With her white face, and white nightgown, the white decor, the green eyes and flute...The red hair, the red wine, the red plum blossoms...And the red blood.

She played and wept until she couldn’t feel her fingers anymore, not her frozen lips, as the flute fell from her hands and she let herself sit back on the bed of snow, looking up at the sky, just as she did, over 20 years ago.

Her death was tragically beautiful, just as she said back then.

“I should just go end myself with some wine, out in the Plum Garden. It would be a very fitting end with no pain. Very beautiful...Maybe some music would have made it perfect.” that’s what she said, long ago, and remembering her own words, she let darkness take over her, greeting it with a smile on her face - A smile, after decades of weeping.

A true smile.

The next morning, the Emperor woke up, with the beautiful Zhen Huan by his side, and his Head Eunuch waiting for him for any command. 

“Your Majesty, the Empress’ maid came by yesterday, saying that Her Majesty instructed her that you should be reading this now, in the morning, as you’ve waken up. She said she doesn’t know what it contains, as Her Majesty was secretive, but she said Her Majesty was behaving a bit...Odd.” the Eunuch explained the situation, as the Emperor, nodded with a grunt of approval, taking and unfolding the scroll that was neatly written in her beautiful calligraphy.

My Darling Yin Zhen,

To think that this is what time had in store for us...It’s almost pitiful to think that we would grow apart like this, considering how close we used to be at the beginning, when you were still a Prince, and we didn’t have any real worries on our shoulders.

Now, here we are, the same way we promised we would never become - Enstranged.

I missed you so much, every day and every night - I would always look at you, and see you, yet you never spared a glance my way anymore.

Saying that I used to be jealous is an understatement, I warned you of that before I even accepted to be with you, yet I never imagined that this would become beyond that, and that I would die of a broken heart, for my missing beloved.

Every day, I would count the promises and vows you made for me, and every day, I would cross them, one by one, and crush a flower in my hands, for every broken one, until there was nothing left.

You promised you would love me, and only me, but as soon as the Palace became flooded with gorgeous concubines, all yours to take, your heart forgot me, and it split all its love to all the women that you shared your bed with, and so, I crushed a Lotus flower.

Your promised you would always hold me in your arms at night, no matter of the woman you’d have to do your Imperial Duty with, and yet, it didn’t take long for you to remember that my bed was made for the both of us, and so, I crushed a Cherry blossom.

You promised you will always tease me, flick my forehead and pinch my cheeks, then kiss them, only for you to cast cold eyes at me whenever I spoke or did something silly, letting the Consort or Dowager deal with me, while you would play and to the same things you used to do with me, with other women, and so, I crushed a Plum blossom.

You used to compliment me on all my small achievements, no matter how silly or insignificant they were, but now, you gave away all the clothes I sew you, all the snacks, cakes and tea I would make you, and all the accessories I would spend days and night to make, and so, I crushed a Begonia flower.

You used to point out how my eyes were sparkling with life and joy whenever I was around you, and how all colours looked amazing on me, you said I was the Empress of Flowers, and yet, ever since you became Emperor, only dark eyes sparkle with happiness around you, and you said I should wear clothes for my age and stop fooling around, and so, I crushed a Peony.

You used to always accompany me whenever I played music, we even beat the Princess of Western Liang together, I with the flute, that you later gifted me, and you with the zither, and after that, you even gifted me that amazing Liang hair ornament...Only for you to forget that I can play musical instruments too, and only let the younger girls perform for you, and so, I crushed a Chrysanthemum.

You used to kiss me with so much love and passion, warming up and mending by broken, frozen heart, as you promised nothing in this life would ever hurt me again, and I would never be alone, and yet, you are the one who completely crushed me, forgetting about me, as if I was some ugly, ragged old doll, thrown away and forgotten by time and life, and so, I crushed a Camellia.

You used to be my confidante, my best and only friend, we trusted each other with all our secrets and gossips, and only each other, and yet, you completely stopped talking to me, making other confidantes now, and here I am, having no one but my maid to talk with, as my last living sister hates me eternally, and rightfully so, and so, I crushed a Narcissus.

You used to take me out at midnight and dance under the veil of stars, under the healing, guarding, loving light of Mother Moon, and we would confess our undying love for each other, and yet, nothing is eternal, and your love for me extinguished like the fire from a candle, and reignited on many other candles, and so, I crushed an Azalea.

But most importantly...

You promised that, no matter what, our hearts will always belong to each other, and nobody else - I kept my end of the promise, but you broke it as soon as you took the throne, and I watched you run further and further away from me, while I was wilting away, exhausted, starving, alone...And so...I crushed a thorny Rose...And let the blood spill on the pure snow...The same pure snow that was my life and innocence which you tainted with your negligence and lies.

The least you could have done was to let me live, at least for now, but it is as you once said - ‘Don’t look at other men, don’t leave me. You are mine, and you can only be mine’ - such an innocent phrase, that only applied to you, not to me, as I had to share you with countless women, yet you didn’t even let me tug on the last string of hope that coincidentally found itself in front of me. 

It was a mirage, just like the happiness you promised me, and no matter how much I tried to run, the image became further and further distant, until my legs gave up, and I began crawling...And crawling...Until it disappeared completely, and I lay grieving on the deserted snow, warmer than your own ice-cold heart.

I should have chosen happiness over duty - I should have eloped with JiKang back then, before I chose to honour everyone and come into the Palace, but that was my biggest mistake, and my greatest downfall - I met you, and as soon as I looked into your eyes, I was trapped.

I was truly nothing more than your caged songbird, and once you got tired of my song, you threw away the key, and my cage in some forgotten chamber, scary, away from any form of life, darker and colder than anything, even Hell.

But it’s fine.

In the end, if it wasn’t true for you, it was true for me, and on my last seconds alive, as I lay on the blanket of snow, just as I told you back then, listening to my own Requiem being played at the Banquet, I count the falling snowflakes, and with each of them, I would think of a beautiful moment that we shared together, and my heart, despite being shattered, smiled, after ages of forgetting how to.

I am happy, at least now, as I lay dying, knowing that I will finally see my beloved Yin Zhen again, as you took him away from me - You, Emperor Yongzheng, destroyed the love between me, Y/N, a simple physician, and Yin Zhen, the 4th Prince, who truly loved me with all of his heart, and I, in turn, loved him with every fiber of my very being.

I blame you, Emperor Yongzheng, for taking my beloved away from me, and taking my youth and heart and locking them in a cell, but at least now, I know that I can be happy, with him, my beautiful, sweet, lovely Yin Zhen, my husband, best friend and confidante.

The only person who was ever by my side all this time has been my maid, Shi Lian - And as a thank you, I want to promote her to Lady Yongqing, and all my riches go to her - I wish you only the best, and I hope, my dear Shi Lian, that you will be happy for me as well.

In the end, I was never Wu Zetian, or Hua Mulan, nor Diaochan or Yang Gufei - I was just Y/N, a pitiful Physician, a pitiful Empress, and, above all, a sad woman, trapped in a hopeless world of sorrow.

Goodbye.

Y/N, the Female Imperial Physician.

Reading that, the Emperor didn’t realise that tears were escaping from his eyes, as he rushed out of the room, making his way to the Plum Garden, only to find the woman he loved with all his being dead, covered by snow, her skin paler than ice itself, and a red stain where her head was - Wine, replicating the incident many years ago.  Next to her, lay the flute he gifted her long ago, and he realised that she was playing her sorrows until the very end. He discovered the wine bottle and poison sachet in the bag, the very bag that she used to steal the incriminatory objects from the consort long ago, and on the snow, he saw a phrase written, one so ironic, yet painful beyond belief.

“A Zhang of Redness”

In the end, she was right - It all began and ended with A Zhang of Redness.

He was, once again, Yin Zhen, the man hopelessly in love, and hopelessly crushed, as he held her in his arms and wept, the salty droplets of water falling down her face in rivers, and in that moment, he couldn’t help but have flashbacks from his youth, all of them, with her by his side.

He truly was the worst, being capable of neglecting the one person he held in higher esteem than Buddha himself, and yet, he let this happen.

How could he let this happen? Why did he do something like this? Did the title of Emperor really get to his head like that? Did he truly forget who he was all this time? Was he, maybe, the one trapped in a false world, away from any exits or escapes?

He didn’t know, and yet, one thing was sure - Y/N was dead, and there was no bringing her back.

At her funeral, he invited JiKang to play, and the Emperor could feel the musician’s own heart throbbing in sorrow, as he looked at her with empty eyes, and yet, the pity and anger he felt was obvious from the way he played.

As night came, and they all lit lanterns to float into the skies, and put candles on lotus flowers, to light up her way to a better, more beautiful world, the two men remained alone, only sadness linking them.

“What were the songs that you played?” the Emperor asked in a low voice. “Songs that I promised I would play in her honour, the last time we talked. I knew what she was going to do, and yet, knowing that she killed herself when I played for her - And more - that she, herself, played, makes my heart ache even more.  ‘Requiem for God’s Caged Bird’ and ‘The Lovely Fox Spirit and The Wavering Dragon’  were the name of the songs.” the musician replied with a certain harsh coldness that resembled a blizzard. “I see...Very fitting indeed.” he grunted in approval hearing his statement. “You are the cruelest man alive. Instead of taking care of her, you let her die. You didn’t even give her a second chance of living. You were desperate to possess everything and everyone. To have everything under your control. So much that you don’t even notice, nor care, that the most beautiful flower wilted in your very own hands. You should be ashamed of yourself, to even call yourself an Emperor. You never deserved her, that much, is clear to me.” JiKang glared at the Emperor, not caring for any kind of repercussion. “You are correct. I never deserved her. I loved her more than anything in this world, and yet, I destroyed everything for her, and now, she is no more. She shares the same fate as all the Four Beauties of China - A most tragic end, for all of them. And the worst is that she needed to die in order for me to wake up, and now, I can’t even make it up to her. Honouring her after death means nothing, if I didn’t while she was alive. It changes nothing.” the Emperor sighed deeply, looking at the stars, the ones she loved so much, and would count together from the top of the flowery hill. “That star right there - It used to be our star. Whenever we’d go to the hill together, we’d search for it. It was our guardian star. It was the brightest, and most beautiful. And now, it seems to be be even brighter...Just like that tale of the Rabbit Moon Goddess.” “...At least bother remembering her after death, if you couldn’t do it while she was alive.” the musician left the Emperor to his own thoughts. “I am sorry, my darling Y/N. I love you. Forever. Endlessly. Only you.” the Emperor muttered, staring at the star, allowing himself to mourn properly now, away from anyone’s eyes.

The Palace of Blue Lotus became her shrine, filled with flowers and beautifully written poems, and guarding it, a statue of her, and a statue of a nine tailed fox, a Huli jing, were standing there, letting offerings of flower crowns, jewelleries, jades and trinkets be placed around and all over them, to honour her kind, beautiful heart, as it should have happened while she was alive.

As promised, the Emperor promoted Shi Lian, but to the title of Lady Shuyu, just like Y/N once was, and offered her a huge allowance, almost the size of an Empress, hoping that it would make Y/N happy beyond life...Yet seeing the maid grieving, her face pink and puffy, no longer cheerful, hurt him beyond belief, as he was reminded of the sins he committed.

And so, once again, he had to pink new concubines for his unfortunate Harem, along with his new Empress, Zhen Huan, just as Y/N said...And there she was, a beautiful young woman, full of life and hope, obviously not wanting to become a slave to him, so he interrogated him, just as he did with Y/N, long ago. This time, his brother, Duke Guo, a free soul seeking his soulmate, was by his side.

The Emperor ordered for a zither to be brought forth for the woman to play, and as soon as she did, his brother joined in, accompanying her in perfect sync, and just as it happened to him long ago, their eyes were trapping each other in a beautiful enchantment of love and bashfulness.

Please, Gods, let them be what I and Y/N couldn’t be, Yin Zhen begged in his heart, watching those two shyly exchanging looks.

“I know you never wanted to serve me as a concubine. You very much resemble my wife, the late Empress Y/N. If you were to join the harem, your heart will be destroyed. That is why...If you would want to, I will allow you to marry any man you fall in love with, even if it is my own brother, Duke Guo. He always preached about wanting to find the his soulmate, and you two look at each other the same way I and Y/N would, long ago. Don’t waste this love on stupid things, like I did. Cherish it, and keep your promises to each other. You never know when life snatches away your happiness, leaving only emptiness and sorrow behind.” Yin Zhen looked at them, his heart conflicted, feeling both happiness and sadness, as the man and woman in front of him appeared to be just another version of himself and Y/N.

He couldn’t see the girl, nor his brother.

He could only see a beautiful red haired woman with green eyes, flowers in her long, cascading hair, and her gorgeous green gown, looking like a Fox Spirit, or a Lotus...And a man, gazing at her lovingly, wearing vibrant gold, his expression soft, despite the deep, dark eyes, that now held love, warmth and tenderness in them.

It wasn’t some random girl and some random boy.

It was Y/N and Yin Zhen.

And then he wept once again for their lost love.