#AND THE FACT IT NEVER CHANGED........ HIS FEELINGS 4 HIM REMAINED CONSTANT

[amaranthdahlia]

(dgs1-1, dgs2-5)

sobbing he loves him just the way he is and has always been, from the beginning till the end

[lakesbian]

“I knew he was the reason she had texted me for help, from the moment I saw her reaction.  Maybe I’d suspected there was something going on even before that, from the way her emails and texts had changed in tone.  It would explain that gut feeling I’d had that made me get over there as fast as I did.  I saw her shrink back, I felt her hold me tighter, and I went cold inside.

okay so just to set down the WoGs about this so we all know where i'm coming from

i think the biggest lie here aside from the obviously false constant reiteration he's doing that he Had No Idea Who The Man Was, No Sir is that he went cold inside...or rather i think 'i went cold inside' is a perfectly true statement, but he wants it to be taken as "i went emotionally dead inside and beat the man up like a cool and tough manly older brother and saved the day" when the reality is that he was frozen/chilled with fear from coming face-to-face w/ his abuser, and he hated himself for feeling so weak and incapable of moving/acting to protect his sister. his desire to be big + scary mixed w/ both his desire to run away/hide himself and aisha from their abuser and his mental conflation of "being able to care for people" and "being masculine/not being weak," and it resulted in the ability to generate darkness. darkness to scare people, darkness to hide him, darkness that makes him look bigger if he generates it around himself. all, of course, while he remains fundamentally vulnerable at the center.

like.

you know? You Fucking Know? brian laborn, man. & he explicitly details how this mindset was beaten into him as a child, while completely oblivious to the fact that there's anything wrong with it:

“Well my father is a hard man. Not the kind of man that’s meant to raise a son alone. I wouldn’t say he was abusive, but there’s never been any warmth to him, no charming anecdotes, no fatherly wisdom, no throwing baseballs in the backyard. The extent of our bonding was in the gym, him holding the punching bag in position while shouting at me that I was doing something wrong, staying grimly quiet if my form, my timing, the raw power of my hits were all flawless. Or we’d be in the ring, with boxing helmets and gloves on, a thirty five year old man in peak physical condition barely holding back against his fifteen year old son. He just expected me to keep up or take the hits, and I didn’t have much choice in the matter.

he has to be strong and masculine, because he's been taught that if he isn't, he will be demeaned and hurt.

so, my theory on the matter is that after he triggered from beating himself up over freezing, the little moment of him being distracted/staggered from coming out of the vision was enough for him to yell at himself in his head and kick himself into "fight" gear.

“So even if I was only fifteen, I was tall for my age, I was fit, and I knew how to throw a punch. I didn’t say a word, didn’t make a sound. I put my sister down and beat my mother’s boyfriend within an inch of his life, my mother screaming and wailing the entire time. When I was done, I picked my sister up and returned to the cab. We went to my father’s that night, and we went to the police station in the morning.”

i think the emphasis he puts on Not Saying A Word And Not Making A Sound is an indicator that that's another part of the memory he really wants to revise, just like how his constant reiteration that he didn't know the man is exactly what indicates that not only did he know the man, knowing the man was very significant and scary to him. i would put, like, 20 bucks down that he's insisting that he was dead silent precisely because he was choking back tears. as 4 the last bit of his big fucking lie....

“When you throw a punch barehanded, it doesn’t leave your hands pristine. A few good swings, you connect solidly with someone’s face, someone’s teeth, and it tears the fuck out of your knuckles. It was at my father’s place that night, washing and cleaning my hands, when I saw it. It wasn’t just blood leaking out of my torn up knuckles, but there was the darkness too, like wisps of really black smoke. You hear about the trigger event, you might think it’s all about rage or fear. But I’m a testament that it can be just the opposite. I didn’t feel a fucking thing.”

i think the fixation on the violence of the thing is in part a desperate desire to prove that he's strong enough--an indicator that he's still the same scared little boy he was 3 years ago, the boy with no route out of being beaten up by his father but violence, the boy being taught that knowing how to hurt people is what keeps you safe. he's trying to turn that into something good, by hurting the "right" people, by hurting people for aisha, but he's still fundamentally under the dysfunctional impression that being a strong, masculine man who can hurt people without flinching is good and impressive and a way to keep himself and his loved ones safe. i think it's also in part that this was the first time he ever really, seriously, intentionally hurt someone, and he's still got the vivid traumatic memories of the wounds to his knuckles to prove it. i do buy that he didn't notice the darkness until he was washing his hands--incredibly vivid and compelling symbolism, and one of the top all time worm things i wish people would redraw.

i also think it's really, really funny how he's insisting that he "didn't feel a fucking thing" RIGHT after a conversation between everyone about how trigger events are the worst day of your life. it's so comically teenage-edgelordy and fake as a trigger event story! and he is telling it because he wants taylor to think he's cool! and it works! she buys that shit! so so funny that he's telling this entire ass huge fucking lie right in front of lisa too. everyone on this team is always fucking lying in front of lisa like ooh good thing no one knows i'm lying. she is basically the bravest and nicest girl on the planet ever for not tattling on him.

[dwonfilm]

Come hell or high water. | Dean Winchester x Reader.

Summary: Looming over the Winchesters and [Y/N] is the war between heaven and hell. Dean will ultimately be faced with a choice he’d never be able to make. What will happen?

This will be a multi-part story, not necessarily set in a specific season but around 4-5 would be the best fit.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Mentions: Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Castiel, Bobby Singer, Azazel (yellow eyed demon).

Warnings: angst, supernatural level violence, season 2 spoilers in flashback.

If you missed it, here’s Part I.

Flashbacks are in bold.

Part II:

Here our trio sits, all tied to separate chairs and bloodied. Each unconscious at the moment, at the mercy of whoever held them captive—though right now it seemed they were alone. Not that it was helpful, none were in the state to simply bust out of their restraints.

Two days earlier.

It was the crack of dawn and for a change, [Y/N] was the first awake. Though in saying that, it would imply she got much sleep to begin with—which she didn’t. If she had to count the hours, she’d guess maybe two out of the numerous hours at night she’d spent sleeping. Every other hour was spent snuggled into Dean who was for a change fast asleep and remained that way all night long. For [Y/N], she was restless and worried and that never ended well when it came to a hunt. There had been a handful of times where she’d just.. known something bad was gonna happen. She couldn’t tell anyone how she knew but her intuition was rarely wrong. She’d felt off about their rescue of John Winchester from those damned Sunrise apartments. Lo and behold he was possessed by the yellow eyed demon that we now know was called Azazel. All of those events spiralled and led to John ending up dead and in hell—a deal made, a trade, his life for Dean’s. There was one other instance in which it was the day that her beloved Dean made the deal that would eventually send him to hell himself.

Tears had been flowing so long their tracks had stained [Y/N]’s pale cheeks. Everything had happened so fast—weeks, hell maybe months had been spent tracking these.. other children that the yellow eyed demon had planned a future for and now.. it all felt as if time froze. They’d found this guy, Jake, but something had been incredibly off about him—more so than the other children really seemed to present at first. It wasn’t long before Sam found himself physically fighting with Jake. After a couple blows that would definitely hurt in the morning, the younger Winchester had knocked the man unconscious. Holding the pipe he’d used to nail the final blow above an unknowing Jake. Inner turmoil clearly tearing at his brain. This constant battle of how far was too far, which had been brewing within Sam Winchester for the last year or so. Ultimately, he just couldn’t kill Jake, despite the fact that he had been trying to kill Sam. Tossing the pipe to the ground before hearing both Dean and [Y/N] yelling for him. “SAM!” Dean had been searching for his little brother, frantically at that. “SAM!” [Y/N] yelled immediately after, her body right behind Dean’s. Turning in the direction of their voices Sam would sprint off, leaving the unconscious form of Jake lying on the gravel. Now they could see one another. Dean, [Y/N] and Bobby had all come into sight. “Sam.” Dean said, voice sounding exhausted. “Dean..” Sam spoke, also sounding exhausted while holding his left arm with his right. All three hunters dropped their shotguns from the aimed position but [Y/N] however, she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach that something was lingering. Seconds, mere seconds.. and Jake had appeared behind Sam. “Sam look out!” Dean warned, but it had been too late. Jake had grabbed a knife from the earlier battle and plunged it deep into the back of the younger Winchester. Dean, [Y/N] and Bobby frantically began sprinting towards Sam. “NOOOOOOOOO!” Dean yelled with one of the most pained and strained voices that [Y/N] had ever heard. Rushing towards Sam, who’d fallen to his knees, Dean threw the shotgun onto the gravel before him and gripped Sam’s white shirt tightly in his fists. Bobby and [Y/N] didn’t stop—couldn’t stop. They chased Jake as he ran away from the horrific scene he’d just caused. Sam fell limp, only being held up by his older brother’s grip on his shirt. It was clear this was bad, beyond bad, it was.. criminal. “Hey, hey, hey.. c’mere.. lemme look at ya’..” Dean cooed as he moved his brother into a hug. Placing his hand on Sam’s back he felt the wound, his little brother’s blood now coating his palm. Panic filled him as he stared at it, before trying to keep Sam responsive. Pulling back, he’d look Sam in the face but his brother was still like a ragdoll in his hands. “It’s not even that bad, it’s not even that bad.. alright?” Dean lied, looking into his little brother’s eyes. They weren’t fully open, Sam was clinging to the last string of life and Dean knew it. “Sammy… SAM!” He cried out, shaking his little brother out of sheer desperation to keep him awake. “Hey, listen to me.. we’re gonna patch you up okay?” Dean’s breaths were heavy, panic setting in but he’d keep it at bay as much as he could. “You’ll be good as new..” Another lie. Yet he said it anyway, at this point he didn’t know if it was to comfort Sam or to comfort himself. Here he was kneeling in the gravel, holding his little brother’s near lifeless body in his hands. “I’m gonna take care of you, I’m gonna take care of you.. I got you. That’s my job right? Watch out for my pain in the ass little brother.” By the end of that sentence Dean’s emotions had began to put cracks in the dam of his repressed emotions. “Sam. Sam. Sam.. SAMMY?” Dean wailed with his hand on his brother’s face. Sam’s eyes had closed now, there was no sign of life present in his brother’s body and he knew it. He realized it. Eyes widened with the realization and the fear that came with it: Sam was dead. “..no.. no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no..” Dean was pleading, with who.. with what.. he didn’t know.

Bringing his little brother back into a hug he stared off at the ground just behind where they were. Hands gripping at his little brother tightly, frantically, inwardly hoping this was some kind of sick nightmare. “Oh god..” he pleaded, just holding up his brother who was no longer living. Both knelt there in the dirt and the gravel, silence overtaking the area. Eery and calm were their surroundings but the emotions within the eldest Winchester were anything but—“SAM!” he cried out, breaking the silence that had briefly settled. Finally he broke, leaning into his brother’s hair and beginning to weep.

Sam’s body was now laid on some mattress at Bobby’s, on the ground and undisturbed. Dean, and [Y/N] kneeling beside him. “I just wanted you to be a kid.. just for a little while longer. “I always try to protect you, keep you safe. Dad didn’t even have to tell me, it was just always my responsibility you know? It’s like I had one job.. I had one job and I screwed it up..” Dean’s voice broke at the end of his words, as he leaned forward, just looking at his brother’s body. [Y/N] was close behind him, didn’t want to be far because this.. this was something that no one was prepared for, no one thought it would happen. This truly was in all facets the worst case scenario. “I blew it.. and for that I’m sorry.” Dean spoke, tears falling from his eyes and slowly rolling down his cheeks. He reached up to wipe his eyes and [Y/N] finally hooked her arm around his, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I guess that’s what I do. I let down the people I love.” She squeezed his arm, not wanting to interrupt his emotional words to his brother but wanting to let him know that wasn’t true. Head turning to face him with tears in her eyes while Dean’s vision remained on Sam. “Yeah I let Dad down.. and now I guess I’m supposed to just let you down too? ..how can I? Am I supposed to live with that? What am I supposed to do? Sammy..” emotions break and she held onto him tightly, despite the fact that he never acknowledged that she was there. “What am I supposed to do?” These words were a little more angry, but still ultimately just.. sad. Anger came out again as he yelled towards the sky. “WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!” [Y/N] ran out the front door to hear the impala’s engine revving and the bright headlights turning on. “Dean! ..DEAN WAIT.” She called after him, but he was already pulling out of the driveway and taking off down the gravel road. Tears were still rolling from her cheeks and bits of her makeup had dried, others wet and smudged from the constant flow of tears. Bobby stepped out, placing his hand on her shoulder. “C’mon girly, we’ve just gotta let him go for now.” He sighed, looking at how much of a wreck [Y/N] was and dealing with the sadness of his own. He guided her back inside and closed the door, getting a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet. She was on edge, not only from Sam’s death but from the feeling that things weren’t over yet.

Daylight came and [Y/N] came downstairs to find.. Sam was alive. She couldn’t believe it. Running down the stairs she hugged him tightly, which he protested after a moment or so because it was hurting him. “I’m sorry, ..I’m sorry. I just. You’re okay?” She asked, to which the youngest Winchester nodded. It was a miracle, a miracle.. suddenly she felt that same pit in her stomach remembering what happened the night before and the feeling that kept her up most of the night. From the corner of her eye she saw Bobby and Dean walking out towards the cars—that was never a good sign. Sam had been eating some breakfast and so she smiled over at him. “I’ll be right back, Sammy. I’m gonna go talk to Dean and Bobby.” Sam nodded, continuing to eat his food. [Y/N] made it out there rather quickly but more importantly? Quietly. She wanted to see what they were talking about before they were alerted to her presence. Hiding behind a broken down car, she heard the whole speech. Every single word. Just as Bobby had his hand on Dean’s face, [Y/N] stepped out from behind the car. Dean’s eyes widened and Bobby was confused until he turned to see her standing there. “I’m gonna.. leave you two alone.” Bobby said, offering a sympathetic look to [Y/N]. She was shaking, tears again staining her cheeks and the makeup she wore yesterday became a bigger mess—both because she slept in it and from the fresh tears upon her skin. Bobby walked away and there was silence that surrounded them. Tension that you could cut with a knife. “Baby..” Dean spoke, voice low. It was in that split second that her gaze pointed like daggers at him. “..please say something.” He pleaded, holding her gaze even though he knew there was pure anger on the other end. [Y/N] was still shaking, hands clenching to form fists and she was holding them so tight her hands began to turn white. Dean made the mistake of taking a step to close the distance between he and his girlfriend—immediately being met with a punch to the face. He staggered backward but he wasn’t mad, he knew he had that coming. “How could you!” She yelled, taking a step towards him herself only to shove him in the chest. “One fucking year?! ONE YEAR DEAN?!” She yelled again, shoving him again. Dean’s voice was kept low. “Baby I tried.. I tried for ten, hell I started counting down to five. She wouldn’t budge. Baby I couldn’t let him die..” He choked out, tears running down his face again. “I didn’t want him to die either Dean, we could’ve found another way!” She cried, tears searing her face and her body aching already from the violence the sobs had brought upon her. “What other way, [Y/N]?! There was no other way, dammit!” Dean yelled, but the look he got back removed the irritation and only broke his heart further. “..what am I gonna do, Dean? What am I supposed to do, what am I supposed to say..” her voice broke from the sobbing and all Dean wanted to do was hold her in his arms. Tell her things would be okay, but he didn’t know that they would be and she clearly didn’t want him to touch her right now. Silence overtook them again, only broken up by her sobs. “You really thought your life meant nothing? You really feel like our life together means nothing?” [Y/N] sobbed the words out, turning away from her boyfriend. “Baby I didn’t say that..” he spoke lowly still, both because he didn’t want to cause more commotion and because for the first time he realized just what he’d brought down on the woman he loved. “YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO!” She cried out, her sobs felt like stabbing in her lungs. Each and every one of them felt like bullets to Dean’s heart, but he had to reaffirm what he’d told Bobby. “You can’t tell him..” he choked out. [Y/N] scoffed, looking up at him with that same daggered gaze. Laughing the most dry and uneasy laugh that he’d ever heard. “Right, I just got my still beating heart ripped from my chest and I have to smile and pretend like everything is fine? Because you asked me to?” She was angry and it was the kind of anger that was turning calm.

Perhaps the most scary kind of anger that there was—but Dean’s eyes held so much emotion that she just scoffed again. “Fine.” It was all she could say. “Baby please let me..” Dean started, reaching out for [Y/N] but she backed away before he could touch her in any way. “Don’t. Don’t you dare.” She spoke, turning around and walking off.

Dean had rolled over in his sleep, so [Y/N] figured this was the time to just.. get up. There was no point in even trying to get more sleep, it wouldn’t happen. She just had to accept it. Slowly pushing herself up from the mattress she’d run her hand over her tired face. Turning around she looked at Dean, smiling at how peaceful he looked while he slept and she couldn’t help herself—she leaned down to press a light kiss to his forehead. It wouldn’t wake him up, he was the heaviest sleeper she’d ever met when he actually got to sleep. Running her hand through her [Y/H/C] hair to push it from her face, she turned and moved towards the door to the motel room. Sam had still been asleep and so she made sure to be extra quiet, unlocking the door and taking the key with her, holding it in her hand. Once she was out of the room and had relocked it, she slipped it into her jacket pocket and sighed. Maybe this walk in the crisp morning air would give her some clarity, make her feel better. It isn’t that she was intent on going far but she’d needed some alone time to sort her thoughts. There was a coffee shop not too far from where they’d been staying and she figured she could grab everyone’s usual before they’d woken up. Despite the crisp air feeling fresh in her lungs, it wasn’t doing anything to calm her mind. As much as [Y/N] tried, she couldn’t figure out what was bothering her so much about this case—other than the fact that it had seemingly been dropped in their laps. Sure there could be some controlling of the evil in the world but to have such a gap in potential cases.. could something really control all of species of evil? Truly make them pause any and everything? She wasn’t sure even Lucifer had that kind of pull. Before she knew it, she was at the coffee shop and they had just opened a few minutes prior to her arrival. As she opened the door, the little bell rung out to alert the workers to a customer. [Y/N] smiled and ordered two caramel lattes and a black coffee—all with a shot of espresso. Eyes flicking around the interior, it was quaint and it was very much what you’d expect from a smaller town’s local coffee spot. Leaning against the half wall by the counter, she was lost in her thoughts again. It wasn’t a day she wanted to relive but this pit in her stomach was growing and it reminded her too much of that day—the day Dean made his deal. Sure, things had worked out in the long run with that but.. it wasn’t easy. “[Y/N]?” She smiled as the woman behind the counter called out her name. “That’s me.” She smiled, taking the tray with the three coffee cups settled snugly into it into her hands after paying with the card she’d brought. Thanking the worker she turned on her heel and walked back out of the door, by now the sun had fully risen in the sky. It took less time for her walk back towards the motel room, probably because she wasn’t using the walk to think anymore. Now she just wanted to get back to Sam and Dean so they could get this day started.

Using her free hand, [Y/N] grabbed the keys from her pocket and moved towards the door. However Sam had opened it, smiling at her and stepping aside to allow her to reenter the room. “Dean’s in the shower.” He said, noticing you seemed a little puzzled when you looked at the bed you’d shared with him only to find it empty. “Ahh, makes sense.” She replied, placing the coffee tray on the table and slipping her jacket off. After tossing it onto the bed, she smoothed back her [Y/H/C] hair which the wind had messed up a little. “Is everything okay, [Y/N/N]? You’re never up before me and if you are you’re damn sure not in a good enough mood to be around other people.” Sam chuckled, which made her chuckle too. “I didn’t really sleep much. Probably two hours but that’s being pretty generous.” She admitted, pulling the cups from their respective holders and setting Dean’s on the table. Grabbing Sam’s drink she extended her arm outward to offer to him, which he happily took. “Thank you.” He spoke softly, smiling at her before taking a sip. “You’re welcome.” She replied before mirroring him and doing the same from her own cup. “You that worried about this case?” He asked, eyes glancing back to her with concern in them. She nodded, sighing. “I can’t shake it, Sam. No matter how much I’ve tried since yesterday it just.. it feels like..” she was cut off by the door to the bathroom opening and Dean walking out. “Oh hey baby, good morning.” He said, smiling to [Y/N] as he walked over to her and gave her a gentle peck of a kiss. “Good morning honey.” She replied, returning the peck and offering up his coffee. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He said as he took the cup from her hand and immediately took a sip. There was a momentary silence before the eldest Winchester spoke up again. “Since when are you the one that goes for coffee in the morning by the way?” His eyes moved between Sam and [Y/N], who sighed softly. “I couldn’t sleep.” She said before sipping her coffee again. “She was just telling me that she only got two hours, being pretty generous.” Sam added, which had [Y/N] choke a bit on her coffee. Dean always worried when she got like that. “Babe.. two hours? That’s it?” Of course he knew that hunters didn’t get as much sleep at times as others did. Dean himself struggled with sleep, usually being riddled with nightmares or just worrying about things. “That’s it.” She repeated, sighing again. “I’m gonna grab next shower if that’s okay Sam.” She looked to the younger but taller Winchester and he nodded. “That’s fine, [Y/N.] Go ahead.” She began gathering her things and headed into the bathroom, shutting the door. “Dean she’s really worried.” Sam said, turning to his older brother. Dean ran his hand across his face, sighing himself. “Yeah, Sammy, I know.” Placing a hand on his older brother’s shoulder, he lowered his voice a little bit. “No, Dean, I don’t think either of us realize how bad it is for her.” This made Dean raise his eyebrow, but his eyes began searching his little brother’s eyes for answers. “What did she say?” He asked, looking at Sam. “She didn’t fully get it out, because you came into the room.. but she said it feels like something else and with the look on her face Dean.. it’s bad.” Both brothers wore looks of concern as they settled into a silence. All that could be heard was the distant sound of the shower running behind the closed bathroom door.

About ten minutes passed, the water turned off and [Y/N] emerged from the bathroom already dressed for when they’d inevitably leave. Sam had finished his coffee just now tossing the cup into the bin. Without a word he gathered his things and headed into the bathroom to use the last bits of what he hoped was hot water. Once the bathroom door closed, Dean would approach [Y/N] and take her hands into his and squeeze them gently. “Baby.. look at me.” He spoke softly, she didn’t want to meet his gaze at first mention. “Baby.” He repeated, gently easing his index finger underneath her chin and pushing her face upward. Finally she met his gaze and his stomach and heart sunk. All that he could see in her eyes was sadness and worry. It broke him a little. “Talk to me.” He said softly, running his thumbs over the top of her hands. “I’m just.. something really doesn’t feel right, D.” She spoke, her eyes glassing over a little bit as she attempted to hold back the tears. “This case?” He asked, letting go of one of her hands to bring his now free one to her face. Thumb easily caressing her cheekbone which makes it harder for her to hold back the tears. “Everything about this, Dean. It feels like.. like..” she trailed off and tried to look away from him but gently he kept her gaze on him. “Like what, sweetheart?” He asked, letting go of her other hand to bring his up on the other side of her face. His hands were cupping her face now, so she gripped his forearms firmly. Taking a deep breath she attempted to steady her breathing. Dean leaned forward to press a kiss onto her forehead to help calm her down. “All of this has that pit in my stomach like the day you made the deal to save Sam.” She was quiet, she didn’t wanna say it too loud—she didn’t wanna say it at all. Finally he understood why she was so worked up, why she couldn’t sleep and why she’d been stressing so much. “C’mere.” That’s all he said, pulling her as close to his body as he could. She wrapped her arms around his midsection and he wrapped his own around her shoulders. [Y/N] buried her face into his chest and quietly sobbed. “It’s not gonna be like that day. I promise.” He spoke lowly, pressing a kiss to her temple, followed by another one. She lifted her head to look him in the eyes with the tears all along her face. “Don’t promise me that, you know you can’t keep it.” She whispered. He sighed knowing she was right. “I know.” It was all he said, but she knew it was his way of saying in this moment that he’d do anything to protect her. They knew Sam would be out of the shower any moment and so [Y/N] began to rub her eyes, wiping away the tears and hoping her eyes weren’t too red and puffy. Dean pressed another couple of kisses to her forehead, soothing her as best he could.

“Did you try praying to Cas yet?” She asked, her voice sounding more stable than it had earlier. “Yeah, he’s not answering me.” It was clear that Dean was frustrated but surely the angel was just.. busy. “It’s okay, he’s probably doing something.” It’s like she could read his mind sometimes, which he mostly loved about [Y/N]. “Why don’t you sit and finish your coffee? I’ll pack the car up so we can just head out. That okay?” He asked, looking at her with a little smile but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. She nodded, slowly letting go of Dean and moving back to the table and grabbing her coffee. [Y/N] sighed before taking a sip, slowly picking at the cup with her eyes down. It didn’t take long for Sam to reenter the room after his shower. [Y/N] didn’t really look up, just sat there trying to keep her composure. He’d made his way from the bathroom directly to his bed, packing up all of his stuff into the couple bags he owned. “Dean taking the stuff to the impala?” Sam asked, which she barely realized. “Huh? Oh yeah, he’s running everything out now.” [Y/N] replied without really looking up. Now the younger Winchester was furrowing his brow, turning to approach where she was seated. Fingers with a semi-grown out manicure still picking at the material of the cup. Sam gently placed his hand upon her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. [Y/N] placed her hand atop of the man’s, the man who’d been like her younger brother too. Not that she always intended to, but often times she was like Dean in the fact that she tried to shelter Sam from how bad she was feeling. He’d given her shoulder another gentle squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay. Whatever it is, we’re gonna make it through this, [Y/N].” She couldn’t help but smile up at Sam and hope he didn’t notice her eyes and how red they likely were. “Thank you, Sammy.” She replied with that same smile that stopped at her cheeks. Just then the door to the room opened and Dean walked back in, offering a lopsided half-smile at his girlfriend and his brother. “You guys ready to go?” Dean asked rubbing his hands onto his jean-covered thighs—both Sam and [Y/N] nodding. First to leave the room was the younger Winchester, wanting to get settled for the long drive between states. This left [Y/N] and Dean alone in the room for a moment as she slowly got up from the chair. One medium length drink had the rest of her coffee gone and she threw it in the bin before stopping to stand by her man. “I love you, [Y/N/N].” He said taking her into his arms once again. “I love you too, D.” She replied, burying her face in his chest for a few seconds before both made their way out of the room. Dean reached behind him to close the door again. “I have the key, I’ll drop it off.” [Y/N] spoke before giving Dean’s side a little squeeze. She broke away from the hug and made the short walk towards the office, so he took that time to get into the impala. After offering one last wave she made her way back towards the car, looking around for a couple of seconds before stepping towards it. Soon enough she was tucked away in the passenger seat of Baby, Sam in the back with his face in a book of lore. Turning her head would have Dean come into view, gripping the steering wheel and turning the key—putting the impala into motion. Reversing out of the parking lot and taking off down the road as Baby’s engine roared freely.

[lostdreamr-blog1]

Outrun the Future - G.Cleven Ch 4

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3

Ch 4

The group was quickly hauled off into interrogation, leaving little to no time to process what happened. It was the same routine with every mission, never deviating no matter the number of remaining pilots. Marley learned early on that she needed to turn off her emotions until after all the facts were given. There was no time for tears in the middle of a war.

The interrogation room was built for teams of men. With the B-17’s holding 10 crew members, the tables had enough seats to accommodate them. So, when each P-51 pilot went to their own table, it showed the others how small they appeared. They often overlooked the fragileness fighter pilots can be when their planes prove to be some of the more superior ones in the sky. But seeing the individual pilots surrounded by no one but themselves, pity almost seemed to be thrown at them.

Bucky stood with his back against the wall, near the table his sister was at. None of them knew what their mission was, but clearly something went wrong for three pilots to not return. He needed to know why for a few reasons. One, to relay to the boys’ changes from the enemy that could impact their future missions. And two, to know how bad it is when his sister gets sent off. The constant battle between Major and brother was soon becoming an issue.

He stayed close by as she started recalling the details of the mission, providing support while staying out of her way. She had made it clear this morning when leaving without informing him, that she was her own person who didn’t need the support of her brother to get through tough situations. But he planned to be there in case the independence faltered.

Listening to the way Marley talked, it worried him with how different she was. Gone was the cheerful and free-spirited sister he had grown up with. In her place was a level-headed soldier who could recite facts about a mission that got three of her teammates taken or killed.

Before he could dwell on the change too long, she was done with her part of the interrogation and stood up to leave. If she was surprised to see her brother standing close enough to hear, she didn’t show it. Instead, she had schooled her face into a look of indifference. Something that was bound to haunt her brother in his sleep.

Buck had waited for the Egan siblings outside, wanting to see for himself how the two of them were. Marley was the first one he saw step out of interrogation and the blank look on her face didn’t tell him too much. He had only known her for a short time and while she seemed to be a carbon copy of John. He wasn’t sure how she handled stress. Bucky threw jokes around and shots back, not wanting to feel anything. The nights starting to get more frequent where he had to help his friend back to their bunk safely.

But Marley at this moment looked void of any emotion. The tears from earlier were long gone and in their place was a face that wasn’t going to falter.

Bucky stepped out close behind his sister, running a hand through his hair. Buck could easily see how much that situation got to him and wondered how bad it was.

“You okay, Marley?” Buck asked her while keeping his eyes on his friend. She nodded her head at him while Bucky shook his. He had a feeling things would play out like this, he just wasn’t sure what to do about it.

“Why don’t we get you somethin’ to eat? Let you settle back down from this mornings run.” Buck kept his tone light, not trying to seem like he was forcing the idea on her. He learned with Bucky that the second you demand something, he will do everything in his power to do the opposite. And if had to bet, Marley was going to be the same.

“I think I’m going to take a shower and get out of this flight gear before I do anything.” Buck looked to her brother to see how he would react to that answer, but he didn’t say a word.

The two men walked her back to her bunk, no one saying a thing. Marley was trying her absolute hardest to not have a second breakdown. Especially since her brother now knew exactly what went on up there. Bucky knew if he opened his mouth, he would be yelling at her for a number of different things. The main one was for joining the damn war as a pilot. And Buck was in foreign territory, not knowing what toes he could step on if he led the conversation. So, the trio remained silent.

Once they arrived at their destination, Marley gave them a slight nod in thanks. Buck looked to his friend and saw he was going to let her walk in there without a single word. He sighed and said, “We will be down at the mess hall if you want to join us after.” His words stopped her for a second, hand hovering over the doorknob. “Thanks.” It was a quiet reply, but words were clearly the goal with the Egan siblings. Buck offered a small smile and turned back to Bucky after she shut the door.

“How bad?” The two started walking to the mess hall, now having to set up camp there for at least an hour. They weren’t sure if the younger Egan would show up, but they wanted to give her a chance.

Bucky ran a hand over his face, “There were more enemy fighters this time which makes me nervous for when we go back up. Seems like they are pulling more of their resources to the air. Something we need to start planning for.”

Buck slowly nodded his head at the answer Major Egan gave. While he had only gone on one mission so far, he got a good look at how bad things could get. Or so he thought. “And Marley?” He needed the brother answer as well.

“I don’t know, Buck. The way she just turned things off was concerning. It was like my sister was shoved into some far away corner and was replaced by a soldier. And I know what you’re going to say. That we are all soldiers. But that wasn’t Marley in there. It-it was like a shell of her. And I feel like the longer she is out here, the more that shell is going to take over.” Bucky shook his head, recalling what happened in there.

Buck wasn’t sure what to say to that. He knew this was Marley’s 9th mission and that this isn’t the first time she’s lost people. This was a fraction of the losses compared to what she told him that night. If she was able to bounce back to her normal self after that, he wasn’t concerned. Honestly, he hoped he could do the same once he starts headed up there more.  But her brother didn’t know that.

***

Marley walked into her bunk area; thankful the girls were working. She needed time to process what happened without the worry of someone seeing her. Grabbing a clean uniform, she walked to the showers and started trying to scrub away the losses from today.

The mission was supposed to be simple. A short flight to France to provide support to a small group of bombers. The target wasn’t even high profile, but more of an inconvenience for the enemy. So, when double the amount of Luftwaffe fighter planes headed towards them, they knew the stakes had been raised.

In all honesty, only having three of their planes shot down was a bigger win than they wanted to let on. Even half of the B-17’s was still standing when they got out of enemy territory. But losses still hurt, and the war seemed to be evolving at a rapid pace. She just hoped the US could keep up before too many of them were lost.

The water from the shower soon ran cold, signaling that it was time to get out. One of the main things she missed from back home was long, hot showers. The ones that make it feel like your skin was borderline burning. The water at base never seemed to get above lukewarm.

Marley knew she needed to put on a brave face for her brother. The way he acted walking her to her bunk highlighted the fact that her not being okay will affect him more than her. So, she looked herself in the mirror and nodded her head. I can do this. A small mission never hurt anyone. Well… it hurt three people. She shook her head, not the damn point. We are fine and there is zero reason to act otherwise.

She made sure to repeat those thoughts as she got dressed and headed to the mess hall to meet up with her brother and Buck. Those thoughts started to deviate as the thought of the blonde pilot was brought up. How he managed to become best friends with her brother still confused her. The man was quiet, observant, and calmer than most. All things opposite of John.

But even with him trying to remain a shadow, he still caught her eye. He was confident, he was caring, and he was bound to be trouble.

Marley had made herself promise to not fall for any man during the war. After the carnage of the first mission she went on, it was a wakeup call she needed. Getting close to people out here was dangerous, not knowing if they would make it back.

But when she walked through the doors of the mess hall and was greeted with a gruff “hey doll. I saved you some food.” She knew that promise was going to be broken.

A/N: Thank you so so much for reading! As always, my tags and inbox is always open for you :)

-C

Tags: @probabydeadbynow

[gracesimp]

WHATSUP GRACE, your 10/14 fic has me pondering....tbh I was going to comment this but I ran out of characters ahaaaaa. IM SORRY IF THIS IS TOO MUCH OR IF YOU REALLY DONT CARE AKSKEIE it's just that your fic was amazing and it made me consider the lore implications it has on the series, because let's be honest: the multiverse is real, even if you don't believe it the fact that the theory exists proves it's point. That's how I think of it anyways. My point is that this story is totally real in another universe and so I HAVE QUESTIONS

first, did Tentoo stay in the parallel universe to be with Rose? Or did he stay and find an alternate Y/n? Would 10 have at all considered letting Tentoo stay to be with Y/n? Second, whY WHYWHY did he finally come back for her? Did 11/12/13 think of her? Did they visit her/check on her without her even realizing?! And third, more of an assumption, he broke up with her because he knew he was regenerating right? He must have figured that 11 was his last life if he'd already been through the 50th anni. Fourth, what does River think about her? Fifth, I love you

AHH IM SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED IT. There are a lot of holes that were mostly put up for interpretation but I'll try to clarify and rectify possible mistakes and questions the best that I can.

1) In this fic, tentoo gained the Doctor's feelings - moreso absorbing every remaining ounce of longing the Doctor had for Rose, unbeknownst to the Doctor. So naturally, the best outcome for all was Tentoo and Rose being happily placed together and left in the parallel world.

2) Prior to regenerating, the Doctor realised he no longer held love for Rose. instead, Y/n became a constant in his mind. He became regretful; full of anger. All pointed towards himself - leading to his inevitable demise. After his regeneration, he still thought of Y/n a lot, but everything he did to her made his hearts ache, so he'd push it away. Though, sometimes, against his better judgement, he'd land the tardis someplace quiet, and he'd watch her from afar.

Turns out Y/n's head wasn't playing cruel tricks on her with the taunting traces of the tardis' wheeze.

3) The Doctor didn't talk much about Y/n, too ashamed at himself for the way he'd treated her, though occasionally he'd accidentally slip up and mention her. Consequently, after their marriage, he told River all about her. And River could see the love and hope he held in his hearts for her. She was respectful and understanding. She even scolded him lightly, which he agreed he deserved.

But ultimately, the Doctor and River's relationship didn't change. Only with the Doctor being a little more withdrawn than in the show.

4) 14 was entirely devoted to Y/n. Internally, he had made a vow to never hurt her again. In this regeneration, he realised he had reverted to his former self because he had unfinished business with her. He desperately needed and yearned for his former fiancèe.

Y/n fought with her self respect and urge for travelling. Should she stay, knowing he was capable of mentally destroying her like he had before? Or should she leave before it was too late?

She took ahold on his hand, allowing him to giddly lead her to the tardis. Gradually, she let her walls slip, noting how different this version was. She no longer felt like a second thought.

And they both agreed that one trip just wasn't enough.

So, she did as she had done years before. She stayed, conscious that she may, as she had previously, live to regret that decision.

*Completely up to you if you want to decide they had a happy life, Y/n sticking around for the 15th, too. I like to imagine that was the case, but is anything really that easy when it comes to the Doctor?*

ILYSM TY FOR ASKING AND INTERACTING <33

[randomshenaniganery]

Tristan Kampana HCs

because I can do this and this man refuses to leave my brain my hand has not gotten any kind of rest for the past four days it’s insane

Warning: I know barely anything about the glorious masquerade because I really dont want spoilers so if u want to correct me with your superior knowledge on the future pls dont I want to play that event blind and enjoy it fully ty. Also idk if Jesus and the big G lives in twisted wonderland but I’ll just base it on what I know about the Hunchback of Notre Dame so maybe this list will change)

1. He likes history and philosophy and is generally a nerd this bitch has barely seen the sun and spends his time gathering random trivial facts about literally anything

2. He likes slim fitted clothing that are very flowy hence his adjustment to his uniform though he did get in trouble multiple times each time he got caught so he eventually put hidden buttons in them so that when he feels safe he can unbutton them and reveal his knee high boots, white pants and the heels he wears so that he remains taller than Rollo

3. He isn’t very forceful but he doesn’t really listen to anyone either which makes him a constant pain to Rollo but he’s too competent to get rid of. Like if u get mad at Tristan he won’t argue with you he’ll be quiet and go im sorry and if he thinks he’s right he’ll still do it anyway. He’s temper is subtle and his voice only raises when he gets into his rants about stuff he’s passionate about. He’s complacent but doesn’t break.

4. Loves the Bible thinks its a super interesting read however when he phrases it like that some people get offended because it sounds like he’s treating it as entertainment (he is)

5. He lives in the dark but he is blessed with excellent eyesight so it’s never been a problem when he reads until four in the morning. 

6. Tristan is pretty easy to convince to do stuff for u so some teachers are able to get him to sub for them if needed and he’s an okay teacher but if one student mentions one of the subjects he has a stupid amount of knowledge on the chalkboard would be filled with his scribbles while he talks too fast for anyone with regular hearing to understand him.

7. he can’t lie and he never really wants to but if he has to you will know immediately that he’s lying its just too obvious

8. he’d wear eyeliner but his eyebags darken his eyes enough for him

9. I’d write more about his dynamic with rollo but since i dont know rollo much I only know that they wouldn’t be happy with the sometimes Blasphemous rants and the desecration of the Noble Bell College uniform. 

10. Tristan prefers to follow someone around its too tiring for him to think about where he’s supposed to go and do without someone managing him. 

[burlveneer-music]

Thandi Ntuli with Carlos Niño - Rainbow Revisited

Liner Notes by Thandi Ntuli: I travelled to Los Angeles and the USA for the first time in 2019. Although I had not met Carlos in person, we connected via Instagram where he saw a video of me playing a piano motif (titled ‘The One’ in this sequence) that he really liked and expressed a wish to record. This was around 2017. We tried a few times to get me over to Los Angeles, but the timing was always off. Through a performance organised by a creative collective called The Nonsemble at The Ford Theatre we finally got the opportunity to meet, play together and subsequently go into studio to record some improvisations as he guided the recording process. Having been aware of some of his work – in particular his collaborative projects as Carlos Niño & Friends, as well as with his friend and long-time collaborator, Miguel Atwood-Ferguson – I knew that, with Carlos as producer, the artistic direction of the album would likely take me to a place I’d never considered going. A fact that had me both curious and terrified (as one tends to be when stepping into the unknown) Lol! Initially keen to record the song that he had seen/heard me play on Instagram, our performance a few days before the session drew him to the song Rainbow off my sophomore album, Exiled (2018). On that zen-like California afternoon in Andy Kravitz’s cozy studio in Venice Beach, he encouraged me to play around with various iterations of Rainbow. “Try it this way”, “How about adding that?”, “Can you breathe into the mic?”, “What if you focus on the last section?”, and many other explorations that eventually went through a few cuts, edits, yays and nays to become this body of work. Rainbow Revisited was birthed through that session, another session a couple of days later, and a series of many small synchronicities that led up to that moment. A particularly special moment for me was when he invited me to play something from home, which lent itself to me recording a song originally written by my grandfather that we often sing when at family gatherings. The song is called Nomayoyo. So much has happened since that session in late 2019. Many changes in our personal and collective universes. Losses and gains, births and transitions into the next life, Mother Nature’s ever-constant cycles reminding me that through all the chaos there remains, just beneath, this perfect order in Her ebb and flow. And most importantly, reminding me to feel for Her and to listen. She speaks! If Rainbow in my initial birthing of it, expressed a discontent with what we have accepted as freedom in South Africa and, possibly, around the world, I’d like to think that Rainbow Revisited is some kind of a response. Where the idea of ‘the rainbow nation’, with all the baggage it carried, had hijacked the innocence and mystical nature of a rainbow, I now reclaim its meaning through going back, going inward, healing, and rebuilding with the hope of a less heart-breaking and more fulfilling tomorrow. Lihlanzekile!  Thandi Ntuli: Piano, Synthesizer, Tongo, Voice Carlos Niño: Cymbals, Percussion, Plants Recorded by Andy Kravitz at Studio 4 West, Venice Beach, California, August 2019. Cover Art by Shabaka Hutchings. Graphic Design and Layout by Craig Hansen.

[lowkeyclueless5137]

Remember my ask about HP X TWST where the Golden Trio go to NRC when they're children?

Yeah! I love what you comes up with. Imagine them getting their Hogwarts letters when they're eleven (assuming they got to TWST years before their own canon time), and then they got to Hogwarts since well, it is their world and this school should be able to teach them how to control their own magic, since NRC can't do it what with their magic being way different.

But because of their journeys at NRC, they become way different than them in canon HP. What if this new trio still go to Griffindor, but they're not one to discriminate towards other houses? They will think believing ones personality based solely on their house is bullshit. Even if back at NRC they do that, but never to the same degree as those at Hogwarts.

They also way smarter at Potions and think Professor Snape to be incompetent because they already got Crewel who is really got ay his job.

Oh! Imagine book 4 when Harry got his name picked from the Goblet! Imagine everyone's reactions back at TWST when they found out! Imagine Umbridge! Riddle is quite attached to these children, he will absolutely HATE it if he heard what the Ministry tried to do to Harry.

*pulls out math notebook*

Ok ok... Let's settle up sum time-line first. :3

My personal pick for an age where they were younger would be 8. And now hear me out on why.

We can go to them being Isekai at 8, way before any of the 3rd years get enrolled. Only Leona is there as he repeats a year on and on. So out of all of them, Leona remains constant.

The trio is faced with the Ramshackle situation, with the different dorms, the magic system and so on. They even come to meet big bros Trappola and Zigvolt, who'd be 2nd years at that time.

The most these 3 would do is help around with simple chores or do some nice lil activity paper that Trein gives them, help Crewel with sewing, hang around at Sam's. Vargas is mostly running the kids dry with all the sports so he's your go-to man when it comes to tiring up the 8 years old.

On their 2nd year in NRC, come our first important batch of 1st years. Ofc, Ron is absolutely curious about Ortho, since he, as a wizarding world native, never saw such advanced tech. Neither did Hermione and Harry, but Ron still was all over the place with awe when it came to tech. Many hyped him up to pick up engeneering(?). And Ortho, rightfully was happy for someone showing so much interest in him and his big brother's works.

You also have Malleus, who gives the kids bedtime stories in the form of gargoyle infodumps. Hermione actually joins the gargoyle club since actually Malleus had some pretty cool facts and stuff about architecture. Ya know, a nice lil side study.

Harry would get along with Trey and Cater. They have that home-y feeling. And Trey makes some awesome sweets on top of it.

Next year, we get sum radical changes.

We get Riddle and Azul, who quickly secure their Dormhead positions. We get Kalim and Scarabia having a renovation overnight, we get Vil as a new Dormhead, Malleus's 2nd year in magishift wins and a whole load of other insignificant shenanigans.

This time around, we have our golden trio wanting to befriend Riddle at first, since he was the new Dormhead, therefore it was bound to get informed about the residents 10 years old on campus. Surely Riddle sees them as young kids, so he's a bit more lenient on them. Hence why he's also growing more lenient on other things too. He would probably bond with Harry over their shared family situation, although the Dursleys were a bit more harsh out of seemingly no known motive.

And also Vil pretty much likes to pamper them up and just affirm that they are pretty lil kiddos. Sure, some things were harshly made clear like posture and how you should always comb your hair before going out. But Vil is chill most of the time.

Azul however? He's a lil sneaky shit. Of course, he sees the 3 as no good for bringing him profit. But he is generous with them and offers them sometimes a free meal on the house part. One time Ron came to him asking for some dessert with some crampled madols he gathered over the time. Azul didn't have the heart to take the money and the twins teased him relentlessly how he went soft for sum kids. The twins were considered scary, so for those, Azul ended up shoving them in a pot as a payment for their relentless teasing. :'3

Silver is basically forced naptime. They are big kids, but still even some older NRC Students get dragged in this comune naptime. :'3

Kalim is fun! He's a ray of sunshine! Jamil not so. Jamil is that responsible figure that everyone feels like they absolutely shouldn't listen to. No. Listen to the snake man. Snake man doesn't want any of you to end up in an early casket.

Ruggie is Leona's helper, so he sometimes brings the kids to Leona, not knowing better. Leona tolerates the 3, but hey... Leona's the only constant student in here. So it is hard to not get attached to him at least a tiny bit. :'3

Then, you finally have the year we're everything goes down. The letters arrive for both Harry, Hermione and Ron and clearly those were a very important lead to the 3's homeworld. We have Idia and Kalim as new Dormheads and everything is just going to shit. :'3

Ofc, Crowley was now forced to use the letter as a way to find a path home for the 3. (it's not like one of the most influential people in the world would be at his throat if he doesn't do it. No sir, definitely not)

He does! Surprisingly he does! And ofc, this means a whole load of things. 1. Someone had to make sure these kids are safe and sound. For Harry at least, his home life was absolutely shit, they couldn't possibly let an 11 year old return there on a good mind. 2. This was a different kind of magical world, so they needed to be discret and try not to cause any scenes. 3. Who's gonna even get these lists?! With what money?!

So the thing we have ia that the Dormheads take it in between themselves. They had to split up and see how could they handle this pickle. The 3 needed new clothes, new books, everything from A-Z since apparently these wizarding community lives in 'prehistory' according to Leona.

So Azul is the one that walks the 3 around. Thankfully, Hermione's letter had clear instructions of how to navigate and what to do in order to get to Diagon Alley. Of course, Kalim offered some 'teeny tiny' pocket money in the form of pretty gems that they would sell to the bank in order to get money from that world. Ya know, as a gift for the new official school year. Riddle tagged along mostly to make sure no incident befalls out group. Plus he was great in finding the books they needed.

Of course, there were some weird looks thrown at them, mostly at how vibrant they were compared to your normal peep going around.

For a new school gift, the 3rd years and current Dormheads decided to put some comune exchange in order to get some nice things for the 3. For Hermione it was a very pretty quill and special ink. For Ron, he had a beautiful scarf in his favorite colors.

For Harry, they got Hedwig, with the promise that they will use Hedwig to send letters firstly to their families, letting them know they were OK, then send to NRC peeps a letter, mostly to keep up with each other.

Of course, on Diagon Alley they meet Mrs Weasley, who immediately recognises her son. Very floofy reunion in there. :3

We also have a meet with Hagrid. Hagrid is very nice. Everyone in the group likes Hagrid! Yay! :D

We get more exposition from the 2, before they would have to go back to NRC and prepare for the leave on 11th. Since school in NRC started on the 1st of September, this was in the 2nd week.

For giving away the kids, Malleus, Kalim and Vil were assigned. Of course, it came down to a big hug to each of them and Malleus crying like a baby over it, but in the end, the 3 are set on going to Hogwarts with the express.

Of course, their main going in between worlds gate was a mirror. A pocket mirror which had an incantation that had to be said in order to be unlocked. The 3 memorised that thing over and over again so they were able to send Hedwig through and also visit on weekends. :3c

They get assigned to Griffindor and Kalim is delighted since Scarabia has gold and red as their color scheme. So now they match! :D

Leona rubs it in Malleus's face that the house mascot is a lion

The trio would be absolutely used to different 'houses' thing, since at NRC they had 7 dorms to keep up with. Like here is a downgrade to 4, which makes it absolutely easier to just keep up with all the news and in-dorms gossips.

They would absolutely try to befriend Draco. He's a bit mean, but they saw meaner. :'3

Ofc, the NRC keeps up with our trio like it's the national news. The Dormheads read their letters at the meetings holded in the Ramshackle lounge, and then tell the others.

Clearly these 3 Excell in flying and potions. Even practical magic, since they have a much more solid theory behind and there is less struggle when you have like 22 other people brainstorming with you a solution.

DEFINITELY Crewel holds extra lessons for the 3. Give him the potions manual and he'll turn these 3 into alchemists overnight. Not only do they have 3 years behind them of assisting at the potions lessons, but there's also the fact that potions bases for the first years at Hogwarts were usually taught in a few weeks at NRC. So you'd bet that for our trio, Snape just racks his brain trying to find a way to get a weak spot in their potions knowledge.

First year they have one hell of an adventure with Quirrel and the philosopher stone. Granted it was absolutely hilarious how easy these 3 11 years old managed to bypass all the traps and everything.

But they also got Idia with them on that night, mostly forced by Ortho since it was his turn to check on the 3, but ya know... A great light and also the 3 headed dog seems to like him a lot. Wonder why? :3c

Quirrel gets fucking wacked in the head in 4k ultra HD. Yay! Violence! :D

You bet NRC peeps don't allow Harry to return to the Dursleys once he wasn't welcomed anymore. Surprisingly, Leona is again repeating an year, so he takes Harry with him for the summer vacation. Hermione and Ron had to go and catch up with their families. They do re-meet a few times during summer vacation. :3

2nd year of Hogwarts already has the once 3rd years working aboard on internships. So you have now the basilisk problem. No worries, Rook is absolutely thrilled to hunt that thing down. It's almost scary how fast he figured shit out. :'3

3rd year gets us more on our favorite bunch: the ex-first years. Adeuce absolutely help with busting out Sirius. Sebek tries to tell them to keep a low profile... But the whole thing blew up and ya know... Just a grand escape I guess :'3

4th book is where we get fun. With all of our friends either with jobs or on internships, they absolutely help out throughout the whole tournament. From Lilia's spartan training to Azul making a water breathing potion, to Vil's absolutely stunning ball outfits to even Rook and Ruggie's help with how to handle wild creatures and navigate around. All of them are present as spectators and try their best to support their lil kiddos.

And when Voldy comes back and Cedric is cut off due to budget and narative impact, Malleus is absolutely the first one to declare war on Mr Mcbaldy no-nosey.

So with the support of an insanely op fae king and some also very powerful mages from another world that absolutely are getting down and dirty with every occasion to ensure a clean win, you can imagine that less spells are thrown around and more punches and roasts. :'3

[doodlegirl12345]

Mirror Image {5/5}

When it feels like it’s an end of a era. Hello my Miraculous Lovelies it’s time to finally end this story. So let’s conclude this with the fifth and final part of Mirror Image. I hope you like it. 💕

Previous Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 & Part 4

Here’s the recap for anyone who needs it:

Things are going well in Sabrina’s life as she now has a great group of friends and thriving in her new role as the super heroine Honeybee. However, things goes awry at a Halloween dance when her friends accuses her for misdeeds that she never done. Have her friends turned on her or is there something more insidious happening in the background?

Also available on Wattpad

Mirror Image

Choices.

One of the few consistent truths in life is the fact that nothing ever stays completely the same. Life is not supposed to remain stagnant where growth and success stays dormant. Growth is driven by your choices as that’s what carves out the future. The choice not to change for the better leads to personal stagnation. Either you will grow with the world or it will inevitably grow around you.

There was always a small part of her that felt like this side of her life was a gamble. Nothing was ever definite with infinite chances to win along with the exact amount to lose. Yet here she was, standing in this cluttered alleyway trying to scrounge up the courage to follow her part of the plan. Honeybee laid her back against the wall clutching the silver pendant around her neck. With the pitch black sky hanging above her she looked around the alleyway spotting the two metallic trash cans a few inches away.

She often wondered how she got herself in these situations.

But the moment when Honeybee caught her own reflection in the large puddle stretched out at her feet. She knew the answer in her reflection, seeing her teal eyes behind the yellow and black mask. Her long fiery reddish orange hair with jet black highlights pulled back into a high ponytail with a black headband with matching ribbons like antennas sticking out contrasting with her fair skin. The yellow and black jumpsuit she wore had a black collar, black full length gloves with fluffy pollen yellow cuffs. The suit’s torso was bright yellow with a large black v-shaped stripe across the chest with two thinner black stripes underneath. The lower half of the suit was black with knee high boots that ended with yellow wedges. The most important thing being the golden hair comb placed on the right side of her head.

That was the source of it all, accepting the responsibility of being the second bee miraculous holder. Although what had brought her to this specific position tonight was another choice that was born out of desperation.

The fox miraculous.

“Are you ready?” a small voice repeated.

Honeybee’s eyes pulled back up from the puddle toward the miniature fox right in front of her. Trixx, the fox kwami she had summoned a mere minute ago. Without a word the bee held her hand up toward the fox. Silently requesting a moment before stepping toward the edge of the alleyway. Honeybee peered her head from the corner gazing into the city block. Not much had changed within the few moments she had stepped away.

Just a few feet from where she stood was Chat Noir.

The cat swung up his two batons crossing them in front of his face blocking the blade of his opponent, Shadow Moth. Chat Noir shoved him prior to swiping with his batons. Shadow Moth deflected one of the batons with his blade while the hero swung his leg hitting him in the head. As the cat proceeded forward, sparks were forged between their weapons with the constant cycles of intense collision.

Shadow Moth dove between the string of attacks, grabbing Chat Noir’s wrist and striking it with the handle of his blade. The cat cried out in pain causing him to drop the baton. Shadow Moth reached for his ring when Chat Noir used his other baton, cracking it right in the supervillain’s ribs. A howl of pain came from his mouth as Chat Noir struck him for a second time.

On the other side of the street was Ladybug who was flinging her yoyo, cracking like a whip to create distance from her own brazen opponent. Pieces of garbage flew toward her such as wrappers, soda cans and glass bottles. The bug spun her yoyo into a shield deflecting the objects. The yoyo’s wire sliced through three concrete bollards and a metal trash can. Suddenly Ladybug’s body slammed into the building behind her, creating a cloud of gray dust from the impact. The dust cleared revealing Ladybug having a set of fingers wrapped around her neck.

Behind that grip was the other opponent the trio of heroes had been facing tonight, Mirror Image.

A doppelgänger of Honeybee’s civilian identity: Sabrina Raincomprix. The lookalike was even wearing a replica of Sabrina’s Halloween costume for tonight. A white lace knee length dress, a matching white shrug, solid white tights, white wedges, a white headband, a long plastic pearl necklace with matching bracelets, an orange rubber wristband and silver glitter fake angel wings.

However, this version procured damage throughout the night such as an orange fruit punch stain that ran down the front of the dress and multiple slits in the jewelry. With burning bright red eyes, the sentimonster reached toward the heroine’s earrings.

But Ladybug had other plans, swinging her legs forward into Mirror Image’s stomach forcing her opponent to be knocked back, dropping her. The sentimonster looked toward the ground noticing the manhole cover within. Mirror Image lifted up the metal cover chucking akin to a frisbee. Ladybug ducked as the cover flew into the building behind her. The bug stood back up while pulling the wire from her yoyo. Mirror Image darted toward her while Ladybug blocked another blow, delivering by a swift kick to the side. Another brutal strike was delivered right to the face.

Things weren’t supposed to be this way.

None of this fulfilled Sabrina’s expectations for the night of her first Halloween dance. At first, it seemed Shadow Moth’s objective was to turn her friends against her so she would become his victim for tonight. Although the truth was much more insidious, this was a test for him to confirm suspicions about her.

That she was the second bee miraculous holder, Honeybee.

Sabrina denied it stating that his accusations were baseless continuing the fallout. Once Ladybug approached her with the bee miraculous there was some hesitation. The bug reminded her about Shadow Moth’s trend of victimizing others which momentarily erased her doubts. After she transformed, Ladybug proposed a plan that would cover her tracks and even beat the supervillain at his own game.

Phase one had already been completed: ambush Shadow Moth and fight Mirror Image.

But now it was time for phase two but even though Ladybug explained the details and had summoned Trixx to inform them ahead of time. Still Honeybee felt a modern day Atlas carrying the weight of her world. Her eyes drifted back down to the pendant because if this failed her other choice would be to leave into the city to have complete peace of mind. Nerves clustered in her stomach as the location of Mirror Image’s amok was still an enigma. Honeybee looked back into the city block watching Chat Noir and Shadow Moth.

With the slim hope that there was something that could give her a clue of the amok’s location. Since searching for Mirror Image had been fruitless.

Shadow Moth charged toward Chat Noir while his blade caused the cat to block while crossing his batons. He grabbed Chat Noir by his ring hand forcing the baton to be dropped. However, before the attempted theft was completed Chat Noir kicked Shadow Moth onto his back. Honeybee noticed underneath the supervillain’s overcoat was a thin dark purple two pocket holster belt. The left side had a closed pocket while the right side had another pocket with a small silver object poking out of it.

Wait a second. Honeybee thought while Shadow Moth quickly moved his jacket back into place. Could that be where the amok is?

It would explain why Shadow Moth attempted to keep himself in the shadows. Chat Noir, preoccupied with securing his ring, seemed not to notice the revelation. Honeybee felt a soft tap on her shoulder causing her to turn, meeting face to face with Trixx.

“I think we should go on with the plan,” the tiny fox whispered. “We shouldn’t wait too long.”

“You’re right,” she whispered back. “Let’s do this.”

The bee moved deeper into the alleyway for cover. Ladybug’s instructions still in her memory, she moved her hands side to side before joining them together.

“Pollen. Trixx. Unify,” she whispered.

A flash of golden light covered her body causing her suit to change. Her mask shifted in design, a yellow base with a large black v-shaped stripe across the center. The heroine’s hair reverted back to its’ natural orange shade, pulled back into a braid and tied with a black ribbon. The bee miraculous remained on the right side of her hair while a pair of long yellow fox ears with black tips appeared on her head. Black and yellow were still the dominant colors of her suit and there were still significant alterations. The black collar remained the same with the color continued down the suit onto the shoulders, triangulating off the top part of the chest. A white section similar to a fox’s belly ran down the front stopping at the hips.

The remaining parts of the sleeves were yellow, ending with black wrist length gloves. Around her waist was her trompo while the suit’s lower half was yellow with a black vertical stripe going down the side of each leg. Her boots were simple black ankle booties. The suit’s back had a hostler with a yellow and white flute while a long triangular fabric tail with black v-shaped stripes hung off her waist.

She became Honey Fox.

The hybrid heroine looked down at her reflection in the puddle, amazed. She noticed the fox miraculous had merged with her collar with gold lines representing the time limit. Honey Fox stepped away from the puddle pulling her flute from the hostler.

“Mirage,” she whispered.

With a particular image in her mind the hybrid heroine summoned an illusion by swinging the flute in her hands forward. In a matter of seconds after a flash of orange light, mirages of Honeybee and Sabrina in her Halloween costume appeared. Honey Fox grinned as the mirages were exact copies with the important details such as Sabrina’s hair pulled into a bun and wearing borrowed jewelry. She brought her hands to her chest while pointing with one hand while holding the flute with the other.

This would be her only shot, it had to be perfect.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” Honey Fox cried out, causing the Honeybee mirage to repeat the question seconds later. “Stop! It’s not safe.”

The two illusions ran out of the alleyway avoiding the puddle while entering the city block. Mirage Sabrina led while Mirage Honeybee followed close behind.

Eventually stopping a few feet away from the battle between Ladybug and Mirror Image.

“Hey didn’t you hear me?” the mirage heroine caught up with the mirage counterpart. “I said this area was closed…”

“Uh…I can explain,” Mirage Sabrina spoke, reading Mirage Honeybee’s aghast face. “I-“

“It’s clear what happened even though I couldn’t see it before,” Mirage Honeybee reached for the trompo on its waist. “Shadow Moth made another sentimonster.”

“Wait no!” the angel mirage cowardly held its hands up. “Trust me, it’s not what you think!”

“Sabrina?” asked a familiar voice.

The two illusions look over to see Ladybug standing beside them. The bug’s facial features started to harden.

“Uh…hi Ladybug,” Mirage Sabrina meekly finger waved. “You may be wondering why I’m here. It’s actually a pretty funny story.”

“Really, how funny because I’m not laughing! I told you to stay back at the school,” Ladybug scolded. “What are you trying to do? Get your yourself hurt-“

However before the bug could finish Mirror Image approached grabbing her shoulder. Ladybug quickly pried the hand off as the sentimonster was swung around and thrown back to create distance.

The bug turned back to the illusions.“Honeybee, get Sabrina to safety, now!”

After delivering that instruction Ladybug charged toward Mirror Image to keep her opponent at bay.

“So you’re the Sabrina that I had been hearing about,” Mirage Honeybee said.

“You know who I am?” Mirage Sabrina asked back.

“Of course, Ladybug always gives us a debrief of the situation. So I have heard what you are going through. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, none of this has gone exactly as planned.”

“I know, but you shouldn’t be here,” Mirage Honeybee took the counterpart’s hand. “It’s not safe, you need to go.”

“NO! I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE!” Mirage Sabrina ripped its hand from Mirage Honeybee’s grip. “NOT UNTIL I’M ABLE TO DO WHAT I CAME FOR!”

“Came for what?” asked the mirage heroine.

“Revenge on him for trying to ruin my life!” the mirage angel pointed over the counterpart’s shoulder.

Mirage Honeybee turned to keep up with the illusion. Chat Noir laid flat on the ground while Shadow Moth stood in shock with the painted expression of bewilderment on his face. Almost if his mind was processing what his fragile ego had tried to deny.

“Hey don’t draw attention to yourself like that,” Mirage Honeybee warned. “Look, you need to go. I’m worried about your-“

“What? My safety?” Mirage Sabrina spoke icily. “He already attacked my friends. It’s time to get even!”

“You realized who you are talking about here, right? This is the same guy who can turn someone into a fifty foot monster because they failed a math test. He’s someone not to take lightly especially since you don’t even have a miraculous.”

“Don’t remind me, I tried to convince Ladybug to loan me one. But she turned me down because she and Chat Noir were going to face Shadow Moth tonight. So she wanted someone more experienced.”

“That’s probably why she asked me to be here tonight.”

“Which is why it’s so unfair! My whole night got ruined because he thought I was you. My friends hated me tonight because you exist!”

“I know, like I said before I’m sorry that happened. My intention was never to hurt anyone.”

“Well, I’m going to put things in my own hands. I’m sick of being the victim.”

Mirage Sabrina started walking toward Shadow Moth’s direction.

“Hey!” the mirage heroine grabbed the angel mirage’s shoulder. “Let’s not do anything drastic here, you’re not in a good emotional state right now.”

The angel mirage looked over at the supervillain who had a sick satisfied grin on his face. He started to walk forward when Chat Noir threw one of his batons hitting him in the back of the knee, knocking him off balance.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Chat Noir questioned. “We’re not finished here.”

“Do you realize what you’re doing here?” Mirage Honeybee asked. “You could get hurt or even akumatized.”

“That won’t happen,” said Mirage Sabrina. “I’m not hopeless here.”

“Is that so? Alright, if that’s the case then prove it,” the mirage heroine moved its hand from its counterpart’s shoulder.

“Huh?” the angel mirage asked, stunned.

“You said you’re not hopeless so prove it. You’ve made it this far without being under Shadow Moth’s influence so you must be special.”

“But Ladybug said-“

“Ladybug told me to get you to safety. But according to you you’re safe right here. It’s a bit of a loophole but Ladybug uses them all the time. Just don’t get in Chat Noir’s way. He already has a lot on his plate.”

Both illusions looked over toward the cat who threw one of his batons at Shadow Moth causing him to deflect with his blade.

“Fine, I will,” Mirage Sabrina started walking forward, head held high.

Chat Noir lunged toward Shadow Moth’s chest aiming at both of the villain’s miraculous uttering his famous phase, “Cata-“

All a sudden Shadow Moth cracked Chat Noir across the jaw using the handle of his blade, knocking the cat back.

“Nice try,” the supervillain taunted while Chat Noir pressed a hand against his own jaw. “Just be happy it wasn’t the other end.”

“Go ahead,” Mirage Honeybee ordered as Mirage Sabrina stood completely frozen. “What are you waiting for?”

“I…I..I…” Mirage Sabrina whimpered as tears started to flow. “What I’m I thinking? I can’t do this. I’m not you or Ladybug. I’m so stupid thinking I can do this all spur of the moment.”

“Spur of the moment?”

“I…I didn’t plan to come here. After Ladybug left I went back to the dance and overheard some people talking about the akuma alert on their phones. I asked them where and they told me. I wanted to take a walk to clear my head. But I kept thinking about how I could confront Shadow Moth tonight. So I made my way here.”

The mirage heroine looked uneasy as the counterpart continued to sob. “I’m not really good with emotional stuff. Would a funny quip make you feel better?”

Mirage Sabrina kept weeping, causing a panicked look on Mirage Honeybee’s face. “Would it make you feel better to know that I punched Shadow Moth in the face?”

The angel mirage stopped sobbing, wiping away tears. “You did?”

“Totally, I punched in the face and he went down like a chump,” Mirage Honeybee boasted. “That’s the reason why I put on the mask to help people against that creep. All three of us have been trying to help you tonight, which is why Ladybug wanted you to stay back at the school.”

“You’re right, I should have listened to her.”

“It’s okay, we all make mistakes but you should leave. The last thing I want is you to get hurt,” the mirage heroine reassured. “If you still need to talk I can spare a minute or two but I need to come back to help my teammates.”

“Alright,” Mirage Sabrina let Mirage Honeybee guide her toward one of the nearby alleyways. “But wait, were you actually going to let me confront Shadow Moth?”

“Of course not,” the mirage heroine admitted while the illusions ducked into the alleyway. “I was planning to hog tie you if you got more than five steps past me. But I wanted you to make your own choice just like someone had done for me.”

Once the illusions were out of sight, Honey Fox retracted her head back into the alleyway saying the final word. “Reality.”

She let out a sigh, noticing the last section of her pendant dwindling. “Trixx. Pollen. Divide.”

Golden light surrounded her as Trixx flew out of the pendant. Her suit reverted back into its original state.

“Great job. Especially on your first try,” said the miniature fox. “But I guess this is also good-bye, too.”

“I guess so,” said Honeybee. “But I really want to thank you for helping me, Trixx.”

“No problem with everything that Shadow Moth has been putting everyone through, we should help each other out,” Trixx told her.

“That’s a good way to see this,” the bee unclasped the pendant. “So goodbye for now Trixx.”

The moment that the pendant slid off her neck the miniature fox vanished. Honeybee took her trompo off her waist, opening the top pulling out the black spot earpiece. She placed it in her left ear and dropped the fox miraculous into the trompo before snapping it shut.

Time for phase three.

After wrapping the trompo around her waist, Honeybee hopped onto the nearby trash cans giving herself a boost onto the adjacent rooftops that had made the alleyway. She advanced forward to the next rooftop, noticing the battles in the distance. The bee tapped on the earpiece to inform Ladybug of her progress.

“Honeybee to Ladybug, phase two is completed and phase three is in progress,” the bee leaped forward. “Also think I know the location of Mirror Image’s amok which gives me an idea to go along with what we already planned. Can you hear me?”

A mix of background noise came from the earpiece consisting of the sound of colliding metal and screaming.

Honeybee felt her blood run cold as she heard Shadow Moth’s voice in the background. “This will be the end of you, Ladybug!”

Honeybee picked up her speed. “Alright, I think I got the message. I’m on my way.”

After a few short leaps the bee landed on the rooftop of a mid rise building in front of the simultaneous battles. She approached the ledge surveying the scene, noticing her teammates had switched partners. Chat Noir fended off Mirror Image using his staff to deflect multiple hits. While Ladybug threw her yoyo repeatedly at Shadow Moth as he swung his blade at her.

“I’m here,” said Honeybee. “Now awaiting your signal.”

The bug looked up, giving her a little nod before throwing her yoyo up in the air. “Lucky charm.”

Ladybug threw her yoyo up in the air as a sheen light changed the bug into her lucky charm suit. The yoyo spun, releasing little hearts that formed an object that landed in the spotted heroine’s hands.

A ladybug patterned can of silly string.

“Silly string?” the bug pondered as her eyes darted around. “That’s not what I expected.”

At that moment Shadow Moth charged toward her. Ladybug pressed the nozzle of the can, spraying the red string into his eyes.

“AHH!” Shadow Moth screamed, dropping his blade.

“Chat move!” ordered the bug.

The cat dove forward rolling past Mirror Image. Ladybug began spraying covering the sentimonster.

Well that’s my cue. Honeybee thought.

She leapt off the building landing in the midst of the battle. Shadow Moth still pulling string from his eyes reached underneath his jacket revealing the glistening object from earlier.

A small silver pocket mirror.

“Mirror Image vanish!” he ordered.

The sentimonster followed orders but the blanket of silly string made it impossible to hide. Honeybee threw her trompo hitting Shadow Moth’s hand causing him to drop the mirror onto the ground.

The bee pulled the string of her trompo declaring. “Venom!”

A quick jab struck Mirror Image in the chest between the strands of silly string.

“So Shadow Moth,” the bee asked the villain. “So do you want to surrender now or you still want to drag this out?”

“You!” the supervillain hissed removing the last of the silly string from his now red eyes.

“Yes it’s me, one of the city’s favorite superheroes at least according to the polls,” she smirked while looking down for a second before putting up four beckoning fingers. “So what are going to do about it?”

“I might have been wrong about my assumptions about you,” he hissed, picking up his blade. “But now you’re on my list just like the other two.”

“Wow, that’s such an achievement. If I knew this was going to happen I would’ve written a speech talking about the sequence of five events that lead to this,” Honeybee held up five fingers at her teammates who surrounded the two. She shot Chat Noir a look as her eyes drifted toward the ground before pulling them back toward Shadow Moth. “You know what I’m feeling charitable tonight. I’ll actually give you a free hit if you just come a little closer.”

“I’m going to get you if that’s the last thing I-“ Shadow Moth stepped forward before a splitting sound came from the villain’s feet.

His eyes widened while dread overcame his face as he looked down discovering the mirror at his feet. With the notorious blue feather fluttering from the cracks.

“I’ll be taking that!” Ladybug exclaimed, catching the feather with her yoyo.

Honeybee giggled. “Thanks for the assist Shadow Moth. Granted I could have broken it myself but having you assist in your own downfall is so much sweeter.”

Shadow Moth’s features hardened pulling his gaze from the feather to her. Pure rage singed right into his face as he charged forward swinging his sword.

Honeybee called out. “Chat Now!”

Chat Noir drove in front of the supervillain, pressing his ring hand against the road. “Cataclysm!”

The cataclysm spread forward crumbling the ground underneath the supervillain’s feet creating a hole into the sewers that Shadow Moth fell right into.

“Now that’s for earlier!” Chat Noir yelled into the hole.

“Alright, it’s time to finish this,” Ladybug spun her yoyo around to purify. “Bye-bye little feather.”

She released the purified feather letting it flutter in the wind. Followed by a quick toss of the silly string can into the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

A wave of ladybugs washed over the city repairing all the damage that had been done. The magical swarm swept over Mirror Image causing the sentimonster to disappear. The hole vanished causing Shadow Moth reappeared back above ground. While he groaned, the heroes circled around him, weapons ready.

“It’s over Shadow Moth,” said Ladybug. “You’re outnumbered.”

“Yep,” Chat Noir agreed. “By the way, nice job breaking that mirror. How many years of bad luck is that again?”

“Seven, the last time I checked,” Honeybee answered. “So the next couple years are going to be really rough unless you surrender now.”

Shadow Moth narrowed his eyes as tonight had become fruitless. But at that moment all three of the heroes’ jewelry beeped causing him to smile.

“Insolent children, don’t pretend you three do not have shortcomings of your own,” his hand moved underneath his jacket. “Unless you three want me to know your identities, consider this stalemate until next time-“

Honeybee noticed the placement of his hand. “Hey! He’s pulling out something-“

Before she could finish that sentence Shadow Moth pulled out a silver marble size orb and threw it onto the ground. A fog of purple smoke enveloped the heroes. Seconds later the smoke pulled from around them revealing Chat Noir spinning his staff around like a propeller.

“Does everyone still have their jewelry?” he asked.

Honeybee ran her fingers from her hair until her hand hit her hair comb. After she looked over seeing both Ladybug and Chat Noir were still intact.

“I think we’re all fine,” Ladybug reported. “But Shadow Moth has escaped.”

The bee looked around realizing that the bug’s statement was true.

“Dang it!” Honeybee shouted. “We were so close!”

“Don’t worry, considering who we are dealing with,” Ladybug put her hand on the bee’s shoulder. “This won’t be the last time.”

With that a round of fist bumps, gratitudes and goodbyes were quickly exchanged before departing. Chat Noir ran into an alleyway while the heroines ran down the street removing the manhole cover to enter into the sewers. Ladybug went first, rushing down the ladder to get behind one of the walls while Honeybee sealed the whole. After coming down the ladder the bee pulled out the fox miraculous from her trompo. A gold light shined reverting her suit back to her angel costume with her hair down, her purse back on her shoulder and her friends’ jewelry had disappeared.

“That was amazing, your Highness,” Pollen cooed after reappearing.

“Aww thanks Pollen,” Sabrina walked over to the sewer wall. “But it’s no big deal I followed Ladybug’s plan.”

“Yeah but you outsmarted Shadow Moth by tricking him into releasing Mirror Image’s amok,” the miniature bee followed behind her. “That was not part of the plan, you’re just so clever.“

“Pollen is right,” Ladybug spoke from behind the sewer wall. “You did good tonight with that mirror trick. Also it was clever silently signaling Chat Noir to do sequence five with holding your hand out and word choice.”

“I’m just glad he got the message before I became a bee kabob,” the angel pulled out a plastic sandwich baggie with a snickerdoodle out of her purse and handed it to Pollen. “I think tonight shows we finally got this sequence code thing down. So do you think Shadow Moth believed my illusion?”

“Considering he mentioned wrong assumptions about Honeybee I believe he did. He should now think you are two separate people. But just because you’re no longer a suspect doesn’t mean we should start being careless. So that means for a while we might have to meet down here. Is that okay with you?”

“Of course,” Sabrina nodded. “I’m just happy that I get to still be Honeybee after this.”

After a quick recharge, both the fox and bee miraculous were returned to Ladybug. The bug led Sabrina through the sewers back to the school to enjoy the remainder of the dance. Once the pair was a block away from the school Ladybug handed her a magical charm. It was white with diamond spots covered with a white lace pattern. Ladybug explained this was a test charm she had made directly from the amok, hoping it could be used as a source of protection in case Shadow Moth ever summoned Mirror Image again. Sabrina thanked her while putting the charm in her purse before climbing up the sewer ladder. After a short walk Sabrina arrived back at the school. Upon Ladybug’s suggestion she had been led a block away from the school to avoid questions. Once she got closer the angel noticed someone standing atop of the building’s front steps.

It was Chloé.

She was wearing her Queen of Hearts costume, a black medieval styled knee length dress with vertical glitter gold trim on the bodice. The dress had a sweetheart neckline, puffy short sleeves, a white merci collar and a two layer skirt dotted with glittery red hearts. Chloé also had on solid black tights, black high heel ankle booties and a circular black crossbody bag on her shoulder. A golden crown sat on the top of her head with this being the few moments Chloé had her long blonde hair down.

Sabrina raised a brow while coming up the steps. “Hey, did you come out to get some fresh air?”

Chloé shot her a bitter glare. “If you must know I’m leaving! Coming to this stupid dance was a big mistake.”

“Oh wow, sorry to hear that,” the angel walked toward the door. “But thanks again for helping me out earlier. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Is that really all you have to say?” Chloé questioned while Sabrina put her hands on the door handle.

“Yep,” Sabrina spoke brazenly, still keeping her back turned. “It really is.”

“I’m standing here alone in the cold and you don’t care!” the mayor’s daughter shouted. “How could you be so selfish?”

The angel flinched, keeping her back turned, she could see what Chloé was doing. In the past during their friendship, if Sabrina did not immediately respond to her beck and call, Chloé would make her feel like the worst person in the world. But after the nightmare she just went through, not this time.

“You’re not going to answer?” Chloé spat.

“I guess I don’t matter to you anymore. So, did you have fun hanging out with Ladybug?”

Sabrina completely froze wondering how it was possible? Twice in one night she had been questioned about her affiliation towards Ladybug. Was she literally the unluckiest person in the world?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the angel turned to face her.

Chloé’s lips curled into a proud smile. “Don’t lie to me. I saw you two walking into that classroom after talking to Chat Noir.”

An inward panic spread throughout every inch of Sabrina’s body. Her thoughts begin to race while trying to pull another excuse from her arsenal.

“The worst thing about this was when I tried to listen through the door, Tsurugi and Cèsaire interrupted me,” the mayor’s daughter scoffed. “So what, are these friends your little bodyguards now?”

Sabrina’s features began to harden. “Wait, why were you trying to listen through the door?”

“What?”

“Did I stutter? Why were you trying to listen through the door? How much did you hear?”

“Not much,” Chloé’s proud stance slightly deflated. “Only up to the point when Ladybug said something about feelings and sleeves before Tsurugi and Cèsaire interrupted me before telling me to leave.”

Sabrina analyzed Chloé’s movements to see if she was lying. She learned how to tell after a long period of time. Usually it was a slight eye twitch, a pouty lip or crossing of fingers. At least to her it appeared that Chloé was telling the truth.

“I’m going to ask you one more time Chloé,” the angel crossed her arms. “Why were you trying to listen to my conversation with Ladybug?”

“Maybe because after helping you out of that janitor closet I felt entitled to some information about you,” the mayor’s daughter huffed. “Instead of finding out because I’m your last option. Especially when it involves Ladybug of all people.”

“You’re not entitled to know anything about me anymore, Chloé. I don’t know why you think otherwise. The only reason I clued you in is because Mirror Image approached you.”

“It’s because a few months ago I was! Until you downgraded to Mari-Brat and her squad. After all I have done for you!”

“Oh yeah, treating me as an unpaid servant and emotional punching bag. You were so kind. By the way, as I said before, stop calling Marinette names!”

“It’s like I don’t even know you anymore!”

“It’s because you don’t. I refuse to go back to a time where we were not on equal footing.”

“Is that why you’re friendly with Ladybug? Just to spite me?”

“Oh my gosh Chloé not everything is about you! I was talking to Ladybug to give her information about Mirror Image. It’s not like we went out for pizza!”

“Then why were you walking back here?”

“I took a walk to clear my head. Are you of all people trying to shame me for accepting Ladybug’s help?”

Chloé’s face started to burn bright red. “Well sorry for questioning your oh-so-perfect life!”

“Perfect?!” Sabrina exclaimed. “Did you literally forget what I’ve been going through these last couple hours?”

“Oh please, I saw the ladybugs swarming around here which means it’s all over now. Just a little bump in the road for the perfect princess and her kingdom of dorks.”

“Perfect princess? Is that what you think of me? That I’m some princess with a perfect life?”

“Seriously, how did you become this dense?! You have a boyfriend who came across the world to see you. Your stupid little cosplays are getting popular online. You seem to have a decent relationship with the heroes and have annoying little friends who often defend you. Don’t you think it’s irritating seeing you getting by so well without me!”

“What was I supposed to do, shrivel up and die because you weren’t ordering me around anymore?! I mean, are you jealous or something?”

“Jealous! How could I be jealous? I’m a politician’s daughter. My mom runs a successful magazine in New York. We’re loaded, I literally live in a luxury hotel where the staff waits on me hand and foot. I’m-“

“Still alone? All the things you listed were about money or status. But when you described my “perfect” life you talked about my personal relationships. Is that what you really want?”

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Look if I’m right then I understand. But that does not give you the right to take it out on me.”

“Like you know how it feels. You’re always posting about going out with the same fifteen people, working on your cosplays and hanging out on Juleka’s boat.”

“Wait? Have you been stalking my socials?”

“That’s…that’s not the point here! What I’m trying to say is that you don’t know how it feels to be alone.”

“Did you forget all those times you stood me up to be Queen B.”

“Sabrina that was-“

“For the city I know. At least that’s what I hope you were going to say. But most of the time you wouldn’t tell me even after the fact. I often heard it from either the news or Alya’s blog. Do you know how humiliating it was to wait for hours for someone who never showed up? I wasn’t even worth receiving a after the battle text from you. So don’t tell me that I know nothing about feeling alone when I do. Especially when you already had your chance.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“When you were Queen B, people were willing to open up to you. But instead of changing for the better you just had gotten the worst. Even siding against Ladybug just to spite her.”

“Who told you that?!”

“Honeybee mentioned it in one of the videos on Alya’s blog. Before Ladybug left I asked what Honeybee meant by that and she told me the truth.”

“You’re going to believe someone like her? I told you she was jealous of me!” Chloé’s left eye twitched slightly. “Now she’s bad mouthing to anyone who would listen!”

“Is it really bad mouthing when it’s true?” Sabrina pressed. “The timeline matches up with the day you called me ranting about how Ladybug was the worst person in the world. It was also the day the city was attacked by those wasps.”

“Even if it’s true, why does it matter now? Ladybug took my miraculous and give it to that stupid Honeybee.”

“Well you were never entitled to it in the first place. Based on what you told me, you practically forced yourself in and Ladybug gave you a chance. A chance not everyone is given and you wasted it.”

“What’s your point here Sabrina?”

“My point…my point here is you had a chance to grow and decided not to. Now you’re mad that I had something similar and unlike you I took it. That’s why you’ve been horrible to me since you’ve come back from your trip, right? It’s because you couldn’t handle the responsibility of bettering yourself!”

“No, the reason why I’m mad is because you ditched me for those losers!” Chloé’s left eye twitched again. “Who barely noticed your existence until a few months ago.”

“They’re still some of the kindest people that I have ever met. Yes we might have had a bump in the road tonight but if I can give you a million second chances. I can at least give them one.”

At that moment the Bourgeois family’s car pulled up in front of the school. The driver honked the car’s horn. The two girls stared at each other almost as if realizing they had become mirror images of a path each other did not take.

Chloé broke away from their gaze, started to walk down the steps toward her family’s car.

“Chloé, I don’t know if we could ever be friends again,” Sabrina called out. “But like it or not you did help me out tonight. I know you can be better than this. It’s still not too late to take a different path and change.”

Chloé kept her back turned. “Change for what? There’s nothing wrong with me.”

The mayor’s daughter finished walking down the steps and entered the car in front of her. After the car sped away, Sabrina put her face in her hands feeling like this was not the end between them.

“Sabrina?” asked a familiar voice. “Are you alright?”

The angel looked up to see Marinette and Luka climbing up the steps toward her.

Sabrina looked at her Marinette, noticing the stark contrast compared to when she first saw her tonight. She was wearing a soft pink full length dress with a corset bodice and decorated spaghetti straps with pink fabric flowers and green fabric leaves. Her raven hair was down in soft curls covering her ears while a light pink flower crown was on her head. On her shoulder was her trademark pink purse and had a pair of sparkly pink fairy wings on her back. She was still wearing her garden fairy costume but all the food stains were removed.

“Wow, you look so pretty,” Sabrina gushed. “I see that the ladybugs have gotten to you.”

“They did,” the garden fairy hugged her. “But are you okay? We…we overheard what happened between you and Chloé.”

A look of horror flashed across Sabrina’s face, she had forgotten that the bakery was across the street. The way that both girls were yelling it would be impossible not to overhear.

The angel took a deep breath before letting go of her friend. “I’m fine, I just needed to get a few things off my chest.”

She looked over at Luka who also was clearly swarmed by the ladybugs. His make-up was now intact as his skin was a limp green tinted gray with a black scar besides his mouth. The rest of his costume, a faux leather jacket, distressed graphic t-shirt of a zombie’s rib cage, black fingerless gloves, ripped blue jeans and black Converse, were now stainless, making him an impressive zombie rockstar.

“Luka, how’s your head?” she asked.

“Much better, I just needed to sit out for a while,” he said. “But I really want to apologize for what I said to you tonight.“

“It’s okay,” the angel told him. “You were just reacting to what you thought you knew. It really did look like I turned against everyone.”

“Let’s go back inside,” Marinette suggested, her phone now in her hand. “We still have an hour left in the dance.”

With that the trio entered the building, the moment Sabrina stepped onto the steps she could feel a surge of positive energy in the atmosphere from the crowd. She looked over toward the DJ booth at Nino who was still working. He was still in his Dracula costume, a white long sleeved frilled shirt with a burgundy vest, black trousers, black dress and a black cape with a vampire collar. He must’ve noticed her because he waved back before pulling the booth’s microphone towards him.

“Alright party people, we still have about an hour left tonight,” Nino announced into the microphone. “So for the rest of the hour I will be accepting requests. Just approach the booth to put your request in. But the first request for tonight is “Warrior” by Sasha Durand dedicated to Sabrina Raincomprix from a group of people who want to apologize to you.”

“Wait what?” Sabrina sounded completely flabbergasted.

A string of electronic beats played for a few seconds before the rest of the musical accompaniment came in. A harmonic voice sang:

🎶 These new roles haven’t been easy.

Even in the moment when I fight.

Walls closing in, getting tight.

But I’m ready to pave the way.

Just for a better day.

I have become a warrior.

Finally free and glorious. 🎶

The angel turned to the couple who were smiling at her.

“Did you two know about this?” she asked.

“I might’ve texted a suggestion in the group chat about doing something like this since this is your favorite song,” Marinette admitted. “But everyone else agreed on it.”

“I also might’ve been the one who she ran this idea by and agreed on it before putting it in the chat,” Luka added. “And when I say might’ve right now, it actually means definitely.”

“Sabrina,” said a voice behind her. “Can we please talk?”

She turned around to see the remainder of her friends standing in front of her. All of them were wearing costumes that were restored to their former glory along with the dance’s provided orange wristbands. In her Claudia, the celestial witch costume Alya stood wearing her black witches hat with faux silver roses at the band. Along with her black lace front knee length dress paired with silver glitter black lace and black ankle booties. The reporter’s crescent moon pendant had returned back on her neck while her silver hoop earrings with threaded star charms was also spotless. Kagami wore her costume proudly a black unity jacket with her returned mockingjay pin, black t-shirt, olive green pants, soft brown ankle boots and arrow quiver of her Katniss Everdeen costume. Adrien stood right by her side wearing his Dread Pirate Roberts costume, a black v neck pirate shirt, black pants, black skull cap, black masquerade mask with matching sash.

Rose looked like a little princess in her pink puffy ball gown, white full length gloves and a golden paper crown of her Princess Peach costume. Juleka appeared on the sinister side of the royal spectrum with her Zombie Prom Queen costume. Similar to Luka, her skin was a limp gray with a greenish tint. Both her eyes were sunken while a large scar ran down her cheek. Juleka’s long hair was pulled into a bun while wearing a silver plastic tiara. Her dress, a glittery tattered black puffed sleeved prom dress had her PROM QUEEN sash covered in specks of fake blood. Mylène’s hair was in braided pigtails, tied with blue plaid ribbons. Her blue pinfold dress, white knee socks and ruby slippers made her look like a suitable Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz.

Ivan was in his black grim reaper cloak wearing his gray plastic skeleton mask on his face. Lastly, Alix wore her black overcoat, white vested shirt, black combat boots, black shorts with black and white striped tights and black top hat with glued on white rabbit ears for white rabbit costume. She, along with the others looked, very apologetic.

“I think I can speak for everyone here to say we owe you an apology,” Alix continued. “Isn’t that right everyone?”

The rest of the group nodded and verbally agreed.

“We should have thought about all the possibilities first before being all passive aggressive toward you,” said Alya. “Especially what happened was completely out of character.”

“I think we all had forgotten that we live in a world where Shadow Moth exists for a moment when that happened,” Adrien added.

“True, as not everything is what it seems,” Kagami agreed. “I think we all learned that lesson the hard way tonight. Our anger clouded our judgment.”

“I shouldn’t have doubled down when you told us the truth either. Sorry about that, I also shouldn’t have brought up Chloé either,” Alix admitted. “I thought you had betrayed us. It wasn’t until I saw you and Mirror Image at the DJ booth to realize how wrong I was.”

“You saw that?” Sabrina asked.

“Adrien sent a text in the group chat that you and Mirror Image were at the DJ booth,” Mylène replied. “Once we saw both you and Mirror Image together we all realized the mistake we made.”

“We wanted to apologize earlier,” Ivan told her. “But we couldn’t find you.”

“I had to take a walk to get some fresh air and think over some things,” the angel told them. “Take a break from the drama.”

“That’s completely understandable,” Rose told her. “We didn’t believe you when we should have. But is there any chance you can forgive us?”

“Well…” Sabrina brought her hand to her chin. “There’s a lot to consider here.”

She looked over at the group who all had concerned and apologetic looks on their faces.

“Just kidding!” the angel smiled. “Of course, I forgive you all.”

“You do?” Juleka asked.

“Of course, I can’t even fault you guys too much because you were tricked. Besides I wouldn’t be in the position that I’m in if it wasn’t people giving me a second chance,” she smiled at Marinette. “It’s about time that I’ll pay it forward. Besides, there’s one thing that I’ve been wanting to do all night.”

“What’s that?” Kagami questioned.

Sabrina smiled as the music switched to a more poppy uplifting beat. “Have fun with my friends! Come on everyone you heard Nino we technically have less than an hour left. Let’s make the most of it!”

With that she grabbed the hands of the friends closest in her proximity: Marinette, Kagami and Alya while leading the rest of the group to dance the night away.

Finally at peace, content with her life and the choices she made including the path she decided to take.

The End.

Thanks for reading! 😊

Woo! We are finally done with this story. As previously mentioned I did not expect to take this long but life had gotten in the way. But at the same time I did want to explore Sabrina’s and Chloé’s relationship after Sabrina character development and seeking new friends. Future Sabrina stories will fill up the summer between Confetti and Mirror Image that reached towards this point. I already have a few planned which even includes a birthday party story. For those who were patient for all those months. I really appreciate it. Hopefully we won’t have that serious of a gap for a very long time.

I’m excited for the next story. Not wanting to give too much away it will likely be a two parter and be very special as the first part will be release on my birthday 🎂.

I would also like to note that the song in the story was inspired by the real life song Warrior by Chloe x Halle. They aren’t exact but it was the inspiration. I did not write the original song but the story was mine.

This is story is also available on Wattpad.

The song for this week is “What I Believe In” by NerdOut.

See you next time. 👋

[chainedupgirlsblog]

Chapter 4: Talking

It has been a week since he met Tinn at the hospital and then at the bar the next day. They haven't had any other encounter since then.

However, since the first encounter at the apartment, Gun has felt different. Usually, by this time of the year, he would feel terrible, unmotivated and without energy, he was still feeling like that the day before that first encounter, but after that something has changed. And everyone around him noticed it too. His manager had previously agreed to give him a few days off but when he noticed the sudden change in his behavior he asked him if he wanted to return to his normal activities, but Gun refused and took his time off. It was going to be just one month anyway. And after that time, he hoped this new source of energy is not completely gone.

When his friends asked him what was the reason for his sudden change he remained silent, not knowing how to respond. Previously he was even thinking of quitting the dream of his entire life. But after he met him again… He felt different. 

He’s not foolish enough to start developing hope just after some occasional encounters, he wouldn’t do that to himself, he also knows he doesn’t have the right to do that. But he can’t deny the fact that just knowing he was back in the country, back at being around makes him ridiculously happy. He knows is stupid, deep down he knows he shouldn’t be feeling this way, it wasn’t healthy to depend so much emotionally on a person, especially when this person was no longer part of his life. But, he can’t help or hide the thrilling feeling that blooms in his chest just by the mere idea of meeting him again.

He won’t accept it, not even say it out loud, but all those occasional encounters they had, have made him so damn happy, the happiest he has been for the past two years. 

And he won’t force himself to change that, just like he’ll never force his heart to let him go. Tinn and all the precious moments they spent together are carefully stored in the depths of his heart. And he will keep them that way as long as he can, just allowing one or two memories to slip through the cracks of his broken heart from time to time. As a constant reminder of how happy they were together. 

So, yeah. If asked he would say he doesn’t know the reason for his sudden change of behavior. But within him, he will smile at the reason, and secretly he would hope Tinn feels the same source of happiness at their shared memories, that's the only hope he’d allow himself to have. 

“Ohoo, friend. Who got you smiling like that?” One of his bandmates asks teasingly. 

They’re back at the bar having some drinks before their performance of that night. On the other side of the table, his eyes meet with Tiw who smirks back at him with a knowing look.

Because, of course, he knows the reason why Gun is smiling, probably like an idiot, is not other than his best friend, as it always had been. And apparently, it will continue to always be. 

“Is it N’Fah?” another of his bandmates asks, making Gun laugh at such a question. 

Fah was a famous actress and model with whom he was rumored to be dating. Rumors have never been so far from reality like with this one. Fah and he were just good friends and occasional business partners who their managers put together to have more success in the publicity campaigns they made together, fueling rumors and speculation. They were friends but that was all, never had any intention of crossing the professional line of business partners. However, his bandmates always insisted on the excellent chemistry between the two of them. Always asking if they were finally together. To what Gun just laughs.

“It’s nothing, stop being so nosy,” Gun says instead of answering the question. 

“Ow, you didn’t deny it was about N’Fah,” says Aat the first one to ask. “Are you two finally dating?” he adds, too excited to Gun’s liking. 

“You two have such good chemistry, that you should try making a move.” This time is Dew their drummer the one who talks. Gun just shakes his head, finishing his drinking to avoid having to say something. “The fans always go crazy when you two are together. Have you seen the last pictures they took of you two at the hospital?”

“They’re so nosy,” says the third member of his band, Mee, with a fond smile on his face. The three of his friends distract themselves by looking a the different pictures that fans have taken of him at the hospital. That is one of the things Gun will never get used to it about his job, the lack of privacy at all times even in the more vulnerable moments, sometimes seems like a price too high to pay for his dream and everything that comes with it.

He joins his friends to look at the pictures too. 

He's looking at them not really interested until he sees one picture in specific where he looks distracted. He follows his own gaze through the picture and is surprised to see the object of his intense look being captured by the picture too. Gun finds himself staring again at the handsome features of the doctor, his doctor. 

His. Doctor. Damn. That sounded too good, he thinks. 

“What were you looking at? The fans?” Mee asks curious. “You seem focused, like really focused” he adds, not noticing the real focus of Gun’s intense staring. The picture is taken from another fan's point of view, so it doesn’t really show the two doctors standing on the other side of the hall. You need to pay extra attention to really notice, and even if you do it no one would actually get to the conclusion he was looking at Tinn, but instead will draw the conclusion that he was looking at the fans, just like his friend did.

And Gun agrees. His friend was right, he was at a complete loss staring at such a beautiful face. It’s almost embarrassing now that he can see it in the picture. When his friend looks at him waiting for an answer, Gun just lets out an affirmation noise. And gets back to his chair to order another drink feeling increasingly embarrassed. 

Tiw, who’s still on the other side of the table looks at his friends with intention and before Gun can stop him he’s moving to look at the pictures too. Gun grimaces, and moves his hands in a failed attempt to stop his best friend's boyfriend but it's useless. The boy is smiling wildly going through all the pictures. 

“That’s what we call top-tier chemistry isn’t it, my friend?” Tiw says with a teasing smile on his face. 

“What do you mean?” Dew asks confused. Gun looks at Tiw with a warning in his eyes. 

Tiw walks closer to Gun and placing one hand on top of Gun’s shoulder he says, “Nothing, I’m just talking about Gun’s interaction with the fans” and in a lower tone he adds. “Such an intense look. Is that the reason why you were smiling before?” Tiw asks playfully. 

“Shut up” Gun mutters covering half of his mouth with one hand. Tiw just laughs it off and palming Gun on the shoulder he continues. 

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” he says but Gun can see in his eyes that he’s not done yet. “You haven’t seen each other since then, right?”

Gun shakes his head and narrows his eyes with suspicion. 

“I was just thinking…” Tiw starts and Gun knows that whatever comes after that won’t be good for his sanity. “Should I invite my old friend to our little high school reunion?” 

Gun’s eyes widen at the mere suggestion. He starts shaking his head aggressively but Tiw just smiles at him. 

“Oh, come on! Don’t be a coward” Tiw says a bit louder than necessary, making the others interested. 

“What are you two whispering?” is Aat who asks this time. 

“Nothing, nothing. I was just wondering if I should invite an old friend to our reunion…” Tiw says coaxing a brow in Gun's direction as if he was daring him to say further. 

Gun just rolls his eyes, annoyed, and he doesn’t even try to stop that damn nosy boy. 

“Should I?” Tiw asks again jokingly. “He still could say no, you know. But I guess it’s worth the try”. 

“Ai'Tiwson…” Gun mutters with warning, but knows perfectly he’s helpless against the other's resolution.

***

Tinn has been working the entire week nonstop. This is not something new, it’s always like that at the hospital. 

When the weekend arrives he’s overworked, completely drained out. He needs a distraction but this week P’Mai and him have different schedules and while Tinn was free his friend was still trapped in a double shift. 

He was still thinking of a possible way of distraction that wouldn’t leave him with a terrible headache the next morning when he receives a call from his best friend. 

“Tinn, my friend!” Tiw greets him through the phone excitedly. “How are you? Are you trapped on one of those endless shifts of yours or are you free?”

After greeting back his friend, Tinn replies “I’m actually free, why? Are you inviting me somewhere?”

“You tell me! Are you up for some high school reunion?” Tiw asks.

Tinn pauses for a moment to think of the proposal. What exactly does a high school reunion? Was he going to be there? Tinn wanted to ask but his friend wouldn’t allow him to. 

“Just come to the address I’ll send you. Everyone will be happy to see you!” And without another word, Tiw ends the call leaving a more than confused Tinn hanging on the other side of the phone.

Tinn looks at his phone confused but there’s not much he can do against his best friend's antics. 

An hour and a half later Tinn is arriving at the address that Tiw has sent him. One step in front of the bar is what it takes for him to recognize the place. He’s been here not so long ago, and it makes sense. He should’ve known better. His goddamn friend was playing with him again and Tinn was about to lose it, again. 

“You gotta stop doing this to me” Tinn mutters in a low voice, with a clenched jaw. It’s everything he says as a greeting and Tiw just flashes him with a ridiculous bright smile. 

“What do you mean?” Tiw asks, getting on his feet to greet his friend properly. Tinn just gives him an irritated look, pointing with his eyes to the place on the small stage where Gun and his band start preparing for their presentation. 

It’s not like Tinn didn’t know about the possibility of meeting with him again the moment Tiw mentioned it was a high school reunion, but still, he still could be dramatic about it with his annoying best friend. 

“Oh, that. I did forget to mention that small little detail” Tiw says apologetically, but then he adds “Even though I think you already knew and decided to come anyways…” With a suspicious look he continues, “Anything you would like to share, friend?” 

“Shut up, just shut up…” Tinn says with fake annoyance. 

In the end, he was looking for some source of distraction, and if this wasn't one, he doesn't know what is.

“Come, I’m gonna introduce you to everyone,” Tiw says, grabbing TInn by the shoulders and walking them toward the table near the stage. 

On his way to the table, his eyes wander over the place, and way too soon he finds the person he should be avoiding, but he’s clearly not… Tinn almost jumps in his place when he finds the other’s eyes already looking at him. 

He’s starting to regret his decision to come here and is about to turn around and leave when he sees Gun jump down the stage and walk toward them. By that time Tiw’s already introducing him to new people, and Tinn distracts himself from the alarming presence of his… ex, greeting every person on the table.

“Everyone, this is Tinn, my dearest best friend from high school who is just back in town from his studies abroad, yeah he’s so cool. If you ever find yourself in a life or death situation, this is the man you need to look for” Tiw says in the most flamboyant way possible. 

Tinn smiles a bit embarrassed but greets everyone anyway. His smile grows a little more genuine when he spots Por among the strangers sitting there, Por smiles brightly back at him, and he’s glad to see at least one familiar face in the place. At that moment he just recognized three people. 

So much for a high school reunion, he thinks. 

“Where are the others?” he whispers to Tiw. 

“They’re not coming. Pat and Jorn are traveling together on some sort of honeymoon trip. And Yo is busy with his career and family.” Tiw explains. 

“So, you blatantly lied to me, again” Tinn complains. 

“I didn’t! There’s an actual high school reunion that is not here but at the school next weekend. Everyone is coming, you should come too.”

By that time Gun and his band members are already by the table, Tinn can feel the burning sensation of the lead singer’s eyes on him, he’s not being very subtle about it, and Tinn feels like running out of there. Tiw introduces him to Gun’s band members but Tinn doesn’t register any of the names. 

“You’re all sober now, huh?” Win says as a greeting.

“Next time I’ll charge you extra for the security service,” Sound says this time, confusing Tinn, until he remembers that Sound was here the other night when he got completely drunk.

“Sound and Win own the place” Tiw explains. And Sound's presence the other night he was here makes lots of sense now. 

Tinn just nods and smiles awkwardly at Sound before saying, “Sorry. Won’t happen again.” 

Sound returns the nod and then is distracted by something Win is telling him. So now Tinn’s focus has no other option but to fall on the person next to Sound. Gun. 

The silence between them is awkward and everyone seems to notice because they give them some space to maybe adapt themselves, Tinn is not sure but he doubts it would be of any help. 

Tinn’s hands are sweating his heart’s beating fast and his head is a mess, just like it was so many years ago. He would find it funny if it wasn’t so freaking frustrating. Tinn is angry with himself, he’s supposed to be over this stupid reaction, but after all these years he keeps getting nervous around him, and it’s so frustrating he feels the need to break the uncomfortable silence, so he does it…

“Are you feeling better?” Tinn asks, daring to even look at Gun. His sudden question seems to take the latter off-guard. It takes a few seconds to get an answer from him. 

“Ummm, yeah. I’m feeling much better now, thanks… again. A-And t-thanks for asking…” Gun answers sounding incredibly uncomfortable. 

“Not problem,” Tinn says with a tense smile. And then he remembers he has reasons to be thankful too, so he adds, “Thanks to you as well”, and when Gun looks at him confused Tinn explains, “For taking me home the other night, a-and for the food. It was really nice, you didn’t have to… I don't know if you bought it or cooked it yourself, from the familiar taste I would say you cooked it but I couldn't be sure, iether way, I really appreciate it…” 

Tinn realizes too late that he is rambling once again. He curses at himself, because it’s something he has never been able to control, and it is worse when he is nervous. Mortified he looks back at Gun, not knowing when he has averted his eyes, but when he meets the other's look he finds a gaze full of fondness. 

Tinn is taken aback by the sudden wave of emotions he can clearly see in the other’s eyes. His eyes always have been so expressive and at that exact moment Tinn realizes how much he has missed witnessing that kind of look, but above all, he has missed being the cause of such a look, and the realization quickly turns his ears incredibly red. He listens Gun clears his throat, probably uncomfortable but Tinn does not dare to raise his eyes up to him again. 

He looks at his best friend instead and that’s an equally terrible idea. Because the only thing he finds in Tiw’s look is smugness. 

The damn traitor is enjoying too much setting Tinn up in the worse situations. 

“Well, aren't you guys going to start playing? Your audience is growing impatience!” Win yells, unknowingly going to Tinn's rescue. 

The band moves back to the stage. And Tinn desperately ignores the burning sensation he feels in the back of his neck and continues to settle down on the table, next to Por. 

The band is now taking a break after almost twenty minutes of performance. Gun has been nervous the entire night. Self-conscious the entire time. He wants to give an excellent performance and he’s not stupid enough to deny that the main reason for that is a certain person in the audience. And for the same stupid reason, he can’t stop stealing glances at the same said person. 

He hasn't felt this way in so long, he doesn’t even know how to deal with it. 

“Would you stop staring at him? You’re being too obvious!” Sound shouts in a whisper, half annoyed and half concerned. 

Gun is about to complain and say a shameful lie like ‘I’m not staring!’ but the problem is, he is indeed staring. He tried not to, but it was impossible, his eyes would wander on their own in his direction.

“I can’t help it…” he admits his defeat. Sound just shakes his head in disapproval. 

“Do you still…?” Sound doesn’t need to finish his question because all it takes is one look at his friend for him to get his answer. “After all this time?” he asks as confirmation. 

And Gun doesn’t answer, his eyes focus again on that one person at his friends’ table. 

The truth is he doesn’t even know himself. Does he still have feelings? Did he ever stop having them? How to be sure… 

Before, he thought the feeling of happiness he felt every time he saw him, was because of all the fond memories they had together. It has been the perfect excuse, the right reason to be feeling that way. But he’s not so sure that it's just that anymore. 

Was he trying to gaslight himself into the idea of not having any feeling left for his… ex? Maybe...

Because earlier when he witnessed Tinn’s cute little ramblings again, it didn’t feel like just a happy memory he was fond of. It felt more like something he had missed too much and wished to get back. 

“I don’t really know…” he whispers to his friend but mostly to himself. 

Tinn feels less uncomfortable. The conversation is actually not that bad at the table. He’s content with being able to talk to some of his past classmates and know about their lives and how everything has been going on. It’s the kind of distraction he needed. Tiw wasn’t lying after all, with time, more of their classmates started arriving at the bar and the group gradually increased in number. Tiw also didn’t lie about this being just a small reunion, sort of like a preparation for the real one that is going to take place next weekend at school. So, everyone was planning and suggesting activities they would like to have on the event day. 

The band is another great distraction he’s starting to enjoy. They’re really good, which is not a surprise given the lead singer they have, he shakes his head as the thought settles in his mind. Another thing that doesn't come as a surprise is how loved the band is. Just this performance at this small bar manages to gather a great number of people who seem to love the band dearly. The crowd is not that big though, and almost by the end of the performance, the band encourages them to ask for their favorite themes to be played by them. 

Tinn is paying attention to something Por is saying when someone at their table rises up to ask for a specific song to be played by the band. A spare mic is passed by the people at the other tables until it reaches the boy making the suggestion. When the name of the song leaves the boy’s mouth, Tinn almost chokes on the drink he was drinking at the moment. 

“Would you sing ‘Let Me Tell You’? I love that song!” the boy says, excitedly. 

Tinn coughs desperately for fresh air. Once he's able to breathe again his eyes lock with a stunished Gun still on the stage. 

When their eyes meet everything else disappears. Once again they’re back to being their seventeen-year-old self that stared back at each other, lost in each other's eyes. Gun is back to being that dreamy boy who wrote a song to the boy he just discovered he likes, and Tinn is back to being the happiest boy in the world to whom his crush from two years had written him a song. They’re back to being crazy in love with each other… 

The feeling is too much…

“Do you wanna sing it?” Sound asks Gun, but he doesn’t get a response. 

Gun is still looking at Tinn. They’re openly staring at each other. And Tinn can see the resolution on Gun’s face. He’s gonna sing it. He’s gonna do it, and Tinn is not ready to hear him sing, at least not that song, especially that song. 

It’s too much, because perhaps… they’ve never stopped being crazy in love with each other. 

That thought hits Tinn like a freaking fist in the stomach. And he can not handle it anymore, he needs to leave, need to breathe. He rises up from his chair and rushes to the nearest exit.

“I’m sorry. We don’t sing old songs anymore.” It's the last thing Tinn hears Gun say, before leaving the bar in need of fresh air almost in the breach of having a panic attack.

Gun looks at the panic in Tinn’s eyes before he feels it himself. At first, he feels frozen in his place, unable to move, but when he sees Tinn rise from his seat and rush out of the bar, he starts moving again. 

“Would you continue?” he turns towards Sound and asks as calmly as possible. His friend nods at him and waves him away. Gun apologizes to the audience for not being able to sing his old song and storms out of the stage, following Tinn’s steps. 

It doesn’t take much to find the other. Tinn is resting his back against one of the walls of the alley at the back of the bar. Gun gets worried when he notices Tinn looks like he’s having trouble breathing. 

“A-Are you alright?” he asks hesitantly. He doesn’t want to bother him, but he’s really worried. Tinn stiffs up when he hears his voice and Gun grimaces feeling uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you feel uneasy, I’m gonna go get Tiw…” Gun says and is about to leave when he feels a grip on his forearm. 

“It’s alright. I just needed a minute.” Tinn says with a strained voice. 

Gun gradually turns to face him, surprised that Tinn is still holding his arm. His surprise might have shown on his face because Tinn follows his look and almost immediately let go of his arm. Once he’s free of the other’s touch, Gun joins Tinn resting his back against the wall. They spend long minutes in complete silence, just standing next to each other, unable to even look at the other. 

It feels like an eternity has happened, but it has probably just been a few minutes. When Tinn is back to talking. 

“I didn’t mean to storm out in that way. I was really enjoying the song, the new songs are great, and the band is amazing. It’s just… when they asked for that song, you seemed so resolved to sing it, which is completely fine, it’s your song after all. It’s just that… I-I got s-so scared…” he confesses, capturing Gun's full attention.

Gun wants to intervene but Tinn does not allow him to do so and continues talking.

“It’s ridiculous. Isn’t it?” He asks with a soft chuckle. The little smile that remains after the giggles is sad, extremely sad. With a blank stare he continues, “I guess I’m not ready to listen to it again, not yet…” he adds with a small voice. 

Gun feels a knot form in his throat and his eyes water suddenly. The hand resting on his thigh clenches into a fist, from the strength he puts into suppressing the urge to reach for the other. Tinn also seems on the verge of tears, and all Gun wants to do is wrap him in a tight embrace, to perhaps in that way ease the pain away.

But he doesn’t do it. Doesn’t feel with the right to do any of those things he’s itching to do. 

"It's not ridiculous, at all," Gun whispers wanting to reassure him somehow. "I- I don't feel ready either... We don't sing old songs because of that. I-I can't. It feels too... soon," Gun confesses, unable to look over at Tinn. He can feel Tinn's staring at him but he doesn't say anything. 

Silence falls upon them again, but this time is a bit less dense. 

“I’m planning to sell the apartment…” Tinn suddenly says, after other long minutes of silence. Making Gun tense up again. At this point, his feelings were a freaking roller coaster. If he didn't know Tinn was experiencing the same thing he would think Tinn was playing with his feelings. But it’s clear the doctor’s mind was all over the place just like his. “I thought, I should tell you since you were feeling attached to it, somehow I... It probably wasn’t a good idea, wasn’t it?” he asks insecure. 

“It’s alright,” Gun says with difficulty, the knot still tight in his throat. Tinn just nods and they fall into silence again. 

It’s not like he could say something, Gun thinks. It’s Tinn's apartment at the end. And it’s not Tinn’s problem that Gunn has gotten attached to it. 

“Gun…”

“Tinn…”

They say at the same time. The silliness of the small coincidence makes them laugh softly, taking away just a small part of the sadness that involves them. 

“Go ahead,” Tinn says, finally being able to look Gun in the face. 

“Not, you go first,” Gun says instead, holding Tinn’s gaze with the small smile still on his face. 

Letting out a small sigh, Tinn takes the opportunity given, “I just wanted to say that I think is good we’re talking now, and not just staring at each other awkwardly.” he says the last thing jokingly, making both of them chuckles. Then he adds, “We will probably keep meeting each other frequently, so I guess is good that we’re able to, just talk…” Tinn finishes still holding his gaze on Gun’s face. 

The singer nods in silent agreement. And when he feels the awkwardness rise again he intervenes. 

“I still need to get this checked, next week,” Gun says pointing at his head. This makes Tinn let out a soft laugh. 

And Gun is delighted at the familiar sound. He finds himself laughing too, it’s contagious apparently, and the feeling is warm in his chest. But when Tinn gets a bit closer to him, Gun stops laughing, and then Tinn places one of his hands on the left side of the top of his head, tilting it slightly to the side just enough for him to see better at the place where is Gun’s wound. At the sudden closeness, Gun even stops breathing, remaining still, breathless and nervous, so freaking nervous.  

“Looks pretty good to me,” Tinn says with his soothing voice way too close to Gun’s face.

Gun can’t help but close his eyes at the slightest touch that Tinn’s warm breath does when it brushes against the skin of the side of his face. Gun tries, he really tries to stop the impulse, suppress it with all his strength, but can’t help but tilt his head slightly to the side against Tinn’s hand, nuzzling with the side of his face and his nose the soft skin of Tinn’s inner wrist.

The smell of his skin is so familiar, that Gun starts feeling light-headed. He has missed him so much that it pains him. 

When he feels Tinn’s other hand cupping the other side of his face. Gun is helpless. They’re no longer resting their back on the wall but fully facing each other, involved in each other’s warmth. Gun opens his eyes and lets his hands go up to Tinn’s face and with trembling fingers, he dares to trace the underside of Tinn’s chin. 

They’re staring at each other’s eyes, and Gun can’t help but lower his gaze a little and for a second too long stare directly at Tinn’s slightly open lips. 

“Can I…” Tinn murmurs, Gun’s heart stops beating for a solid second, and the shock might reflect on his face, because Tinn hurries to clarify, with a nervous voice. “I mean… Ummm…. What I—”.

“A hug? Would you like a hug?” Gun asks softly, with endeared amusement. And Tinn just nods leaning against him and Gun catches him letting out a pleasant sigh. 

He has missed this too. Fuck. He was so fucked up. 

They probably shouldn’t be doing this but hugging never felt so good, never felt so needed. They’re holding to each other tightly with no intention to let the other go any time soon. Tears roll silently down both of their faces. They feel so at peace and yet so troubled. So comfortable in each other's arms.

Until…

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you since I got here. What are—?” Gun’s manager's annoying voice interrupted the peaceful silence they were in. 

“P’Ae, I told you, you should wait until…” Tiw is saying, but it’s interrupted. 

“Wait? I don’t have time to wait. Gun?” the older man asks impatiently. 

Tinn and Gun have already taken their arms off each other and are now awkwardly trying to wipe their tear-stained faces. 

“I’m coming, Phi. Please wait for me with the others,” Gun asks, facing his manager but looking sideways at Tinn. The latter is still busy cleaning his face and fixing his hair which is a bit tousled. 

Gun’s a bit embarrassed to realize he was probably the one who messed his hair when they were hugging. 

“I’m sorry, friend. I tried to stop him but you know how stubborn he is.” Tiw apologizes looking truly mortified. 

“It’s alright. Please, keep Tinn company, he was not feeling well…” Gun is saying but Tinn interrupts. 

“Actually. I think it's better if I go.” Tinn says. 

Gun, who was almost leaving at the moment, stops immediately and looks back at Tinn with alarm. They share a look and some sort of silent understanding. 

“Are you sure?” Gun asks, still worried. And Tinn just nods. They share another long look and when Tinn is about to leave Gun calls him, “Tinn?”

Tinn stops to look at him. Tiw has given them a little space, while he keeps watch of Gun’s manager. 

“Would you tell me if you ever want to listen to the song again?" Gun asks with an intense look, filled with plea and silent feelings. Tinn looks at him for what feels like an eternity, Gun even starts to panic believing that he has messed it up once again. But when Tinn finally answers he's smiling softly. 

"I will." It's the only thing Tinn says. 

"See you at the hospital, next week,” Gun says with an intense look, and Tinn just nods again, before leaving followed by Tiw. 

~

"Who is him?" Dew asks, with curiosity. 

"Looks like he's really close to Gun," Mee adds, and everyone nods. They're staring at the place where their manager has interrupted the hug the two boys were having. 

"Were they close friends?" is Aat who asks this time.

Sound and Wiin look at each other, but is Sound who ends up answering.

"As far as I know, they have never been able to be friends and I doubt they will ever be..." Sound says with a knowing smile but doesn't add more, leaving the three boys even more confused than before. "They're too stupidly in love with each other for that..." he whispers at last. Win is the only one to get to hear it.

To that, his boyfriend holds his hands and nods at him, understanding better than everyone what Sound is saying. 

The band's manager returns to where the members are waiting, and minutes after Gun is back too, but there's no signal of Tinn or even Tiw anymore.

Just by looking a Gun's facial expression, Sound knows his friend is not okay, and deep down he hopes that he will soon be able to either act on his feelings or end it all once and for all. Or they will end up hurting each other much more.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | ?

[bingtrovert]

azil/ nazin and the past two years of my life.

Hi. I’ve thought a lot about whether what I’m about to say lessens the illusion I’m working hard to maintain. Whether this goes against the strict rules I've set for myself when it comes to what I communicate.

Therefore, this will most likely be a one time thing. My work has inadvertently become about this and thus it feels important to share.

Everything I have made from May 2021 til October 2022, including these two tracks, was during my Dad’s ferocious battle with stage 4 cancer. I feel so guilty for even making this about how that shattering experience has changed my life, when he was the one who had to suffer so tremendously for ultimately nothing. Yet despite that, I have had the endless and immense fortune of learning so much from his boundless wisdom and intelligence, whilst also having the blessing of inheriting many of his characteristics.

He told me that we were cut from the same cloth. I realise now the privilege that is. And whilst that fabric has become torn and battered, the remaining threads that bind us will never tear. It has been six months already. Fuck. It feel likes forever. 

Sometimes it feels like he never even existed. The most important man in my life.. was he ever even there? I can't tell. I've found the scariest thought right now to be that eventually, as many years pass, by way of life I will think of him less and less. It will just become a fact of my life. That keeps me up at night, knowing that he will always be back then, and I will continue to get further away from that point.

There is so much I want to say, make known, scream out of the deep-seated anger and resentment that floods the shores of my heart. Screech into the faces of even my closest friends, who will never understand. Although I hope that remains so. They don’t deserve to go through something like this. Yet still, I want people to know every detail of his constant pain, feel every second of our unrelenting fear, think every thought of our trembling minds.

But then I stop and think. Why would I do that when I can speak out of what is so much stronger than any of that: my love for him. 

For you then, Dad. Bing, Bingfinity, The Shards. This is where I’ll continue to find you. You are the nutrients with which I will grow this vast environment and I will not rest until it blooms and flourishes. Your being will be etched into the very core of this wonderful yet unforgiving place. It will echo across the eternal vistas and valleys, pulse through the tangled roots and wayward rivers, glow as the ancient hymns and psalms are sung by the dwellers pilgriming to the Asphalt ruins. 

If you made it this far, cheers. I gathered you weren't expecting such a sombre tone. That is my life, however. And I've found the process of creating to be immensely helpful, not so much in dealing with my own pain, but in allowing me to hone in on how I feel.

I'm quite reticent naturally, so doing this via the big bad web most definitely feels coy. My dad was the one I would go to. He was the one that understood me, like no one else. I realise how truly fortunate I was to have such a relationship. But even so, being grateful for what you had doesn't change the pain of knowing what you lost.

If you can tell, grief feels like the mind of a drunken man stumbling home, unsure both of where he is and what is going on. He feels dizzy, lost, confused. Oh and he's got the shits (that was a joke).

Thank you for supporting me so far, whoever you may be. I am but a humble farmer growing small crops on this big land so it means more than you could ever know. I promise you there is a lot coming. The next harvest is on the horizon. The next few months is when it begins.

Not much makes sense anymore, however I will not stop until this dream is realised.

So long as the fervent sun chases the gibbous moon, my love for you will never leave. I miss you unspeakable amounts. I always will. Goodbye. 

All my proceeds from this release will be donated to Bowel Cancer UK.

As the wise Angus Delaney once said: I believe in a universe that doesn't care and people who do.

[amr-hossameldin]

On Pessimism

‘The idea that a pessimistic philosophy is necessarily one of discouragement is a puerile idea, but one that needs too long a refutation’ [1], said French philosopher Albert Camus. Pessimism is generally viewed by the public as a negative, unhealthy outlook on life, and pessimists as unambitious, despairing individuals. While this opinion may at best hint at some truth, it is false. On the contrary, some of the world’s most influential thinkers saw pessimism not as an emotionally crippling outlook, but rather as a way of looking at the world that could provide knowledge and strength needed to face the harsh realities of existence. In this essay I will discuss the motivation behind pessimism and how it compares to optimism, as well as the two main responses or reactions to the idea. These being Resignation and Assertion. The former adopted mainly by Schopenhauer and the later by Nietzsche. Finally, I’ll discuss my own opinion.

The Motivation

The Burden of Time

The first motivation behind a pessimistic philosophy is the realization that experiencing time is a burden. In order to see how that is the case, we first look at distinctions made between humans and animals in that regard. In his essay ‘On the Uses and Disadvantages of History for Life’ Nietzsche compares humans to cows who are ‘contained in the presence’. For Nietzsche animals live ‘unhistorically’ in the sense that they form no concept of past or future. They respond to stimuli in the present automatically and instinctively. They are neither able to form plans or have hopes about the future, nor have regrets or satisfactions about their past. [2] The animal, Schopenhauer says, ‘is the present incarnate’. Animals, like humans, experience losses and sufferings, but only the humans feel the pain of that loss as only he has a conception of whatever he lost as ‘in the past’. “With the animal, present suffering, even if repeated countless times, remains what it was the first time: it cannot sum itself up.” [3]. However, being human is uniquely defined by the capacity for time consciousness. Further extrapolating on this thought, Rousseau said ‘an animal will never know what it is to die, and the knowledge of death and of its terrors was one of man’s first acquisitions on moving away from the animal condition’ [4]. That essentially says: consciousness of time means consciousness of death. Humans are distinct from animals in having this knowledge. While some may dwell on the thought of them dying and think of the suffering associated with it, a pessimist will treat this thought as a constant threat present draining even the days he has left of life from meaning or purpose. To what end you may ask? Freud just says ‘the aim of all life is death’. Or as Don Quixote beautifully put it: ‘I was born to live dying’. [5]

Another reason is the fact that nothing remains constant and everything changes. This fleetingness property of existence brings upon a series of implications. As every moment disappears into the past as it occurs, we really have nothing ‘real’ to hold on to except the preset ever slipping moment. As Schopenhauer says “That which has been exists no more; it exists as little as that which has never been. But of everything that exists you must say, in the next moment, that it has been. Hence something of great importance now past is inferior to something of little importance now present, in that the latter is a reality, and related to the former as something to nothing’ [3].

For someone like Schopenhauer, the meaning of this is that all human striving is futile. Whenever one sets a goal, even if he can actually achieve it, it will disappear the moments it arrives. He says: ‘In the first place, a man never is happy, but spends his whole life in striving after something which he thinks will make him so; he seldom attains his goal, and when he does, it is only to be disappointed’ [3].

Do we get something in compensation for having this time consciousness? You may say it is our capacity for ambition or hopes, but those either turn out as disappointments or are actually fulfilled, only to slip into the past right after. Well, another answer may be that the main benefit is simply having it in itself, as it is the cause for our intellectual superiority and ascendance from animal status. This intellectual capability manifests in our ability to reflect on ourselves and life in general. But the thing is, once we reflect, we gain knowledge, and as we have established that we are time conscious beings, this knowledge will remain in our memory and accumulate. Rousseau writes: “Reflection … causes him to regret past benefits and keeps him from enjoying the present: it shows him a happy future, so that his imagination might seduce and his desires torment him, and it shows him an unhappy future so that he might experience it ahead of time”. [4]

Birth and death are not meaningful concepts to the timeless. Knowledge of death may be terrible but it is knowledge, something acquired through the conscious reflection made possible by time consciousness. All our experience of death as animals never provided us with a consciousness of it. Like Schopenhauer, then, Rousseau argues that time consciousness, by itself, leads to human suffering. Or to be more precise, time consciousness magnifies the trifling sufferings of animal existence into something much greater. All in all, time consciousness does not align well with the perspective of human happiness. [6]

Boredom

Human beings often manage to distract themselves constantly during their daily lives, but every once in a while they fall just short of that, and face the pressing reality of boredom. Leopardi regarded boredom, as laughter, a condition only accessible by humans. But that does not mean that we have a special ability to feel bored, rather it is a consequence of our conscious awareness of time. Boredom is thus just the baseline for all our mental states, and we can only be distracted from it. In a speech delivered by Columbus in Leopardi’s essay “A Dialogue between Columbus and Gutierrez’, he says: ‘if at this moment you and I, and all our companions, were not aboard these ships, in the midst of the sea, in this unknown solitude, in a condition as un-certain and risky as you please; what other situation in life would we find ourselves in? What would we be doing? How would we be spending these days? Do you think, more happily? Or would we not rather be in some greater trouble or anxiety, or else full of boredom? What does one mean by a condition free of uncertainty and danger? If content and happy, that is to be preferred to any other; if tedious and wretched, I cannot see what other state is not to be preferred to it…. Even if we gain no other benefit from this voyage, it seems to me that it is most profitable to us, in that for a while it keeps us free of boredom, renders life dear to us, and makes us value many things that we would not otherwise take into account.’ [7]

Schopenhauer conveys Leopardi’s message more explicitly when he says: ‘Human life must be some kind of mistake. The truth of this will be sufficiently obvious if we only remember that man is a compound of needs and necessities hard to satisfy; and that even when they are satisfied, all he obtains is a state of painlessness, where nothing remains to him but abandonment to boredom. This is direct proof that existence has no real value in itself; for what is boredom but the feeling of the emptiness of life? If life — the craving for which is the very essence of our being — were possessed of any positive intrinsic value, there would be no such thing as boredom at all: mere existence would satisfy us in itself, and we should want for nothing.’ [3]

Boredom, again, is not a problem in itself, but only a consequence of our experience of time. It is the bare condition of our existence we face when there is nothing to distract us from its meaninglessness. Unless we can divert ourselves with self-imposed tasks, as Columbus did in Leopardi’s fable, boredom is the best we can hope for. An indifferent universe offers us nothing else. According to pessimists, then, we are not childish or lazy if we feel bored, are simply aware of a fundamental element of the human condition.

In light of these thoughts, we are more likely to understand the perspective Emil Cioran encapsulates in a simple exchange: ‘What do you do from morning to night? I endure myself.’ [8]

Reason

In addition, reason itself and seeking knowledge can be viewed as a source of misery. When humans became self-conscious, they took at great leap forward from the animal condition, where they lived peacefully and blissfully without worry. However, they are still a relatively ignorant species. But little by little, as they discover and know more, they dismantle the blissful yet deceptive illusion they were living in. Little by little, as reason takes over, they become aware of more and more problems in this world. Reason may have its benefits, but for a pessimist happiness is not one of them. It is this destruction of illusions that compels us to see reason as actually a producer of unhappiness. Leopardi highlights this idea in his essay “History of the Human Race” by the following story: The God Jove created humans and wanted to make them happy. He spared no effort in doing so, continually responding to man’s requests. Jove tried everything from extending the Earth and creating seas to lighting up the night sky with stars; man was still not content. Fed up with their demands, Jove resolves ‘to set all mercy aside and to punish the human species forever, condemning it for all future ages to a wretchedness far worse than that of the past. For this purpose, [Jove] decided not only to send Truth down among them for a while, as they asked, but to give her eternal abode among them; and to make her alone the perpetual moderator and mistress of the human race.”[7]

At this point, the other gods protest, since this act will surely make the humans too god-like. But Jove reassures the other gods that the reign of Truth will only increase the distance between mortal and immortal: ‘Jove disabused them of this opinion by pointing out that … whereas [Truth] was wont to show the immortals their beatitude, to men she would entirely reveal and continually hold before their eyes their own wretchedness…. Nothing will seem truer to them than the falsity of all mortal things; and nothing solid, but the emptiness of all but their own griefs. For these reasons they will be deprived even of hope; with which, from the very beginning until the present day, more than any other pleasure or comfort, they have sustained their lives. And hoping for nothing, nor seeing any worthwhile end to all their toils and endeavors, they will fall into such neglect and abomination of all industrious, not to say magnanimous works, that the usual habits of the living will scarcely differ from those of the dead and buried. But in this loss and despair they will not be able to prevent that craving for immense happiness, innate in their spirits, from stinging and cruciating them as much worse than before as it will be the less impeded and distracted by the variety of their concerns and the impetus of action.’ [7] Here the god Jove saw that acquiring Truth would be the best way to punish humans as they will become aware of all their shortcomings and limitations.

It is important to note here how different this perspective is to that of Socrates or Plato for instance, who believed that the more knowledge we gain, the happier we become. In this context, for creatures condemned to an earthly existence, the acquisition of knowledge about their fate does not-as Plato thought- arrive as a gift, but as a terrible penalty.

Leopardi wishes to show us that just as man was happier in his unconscious animal state than his conscious aware state, a primitive ignorant man would be happier than an educated thoughtful one. And just like the transition from the animal state to the human state was considered an advance, the transition from ignorance to reason is considered an advance. Neither advances, however; were in the direction of happiness. Had we known beforehand, we would not have pursued wisdom. The growth of reason, however, once initiated cannot be stopped. Knowledge cannot draw a limit to itself as the knowing mind finds it nearly impossible to value ignorance. [6]

On Optimism

In light of the above argument we now understand how reason was thought of as perhaps our salvation from suffering. Looking closely, however, we see that we have made a huge unfounded assumption. That is that Nature is in fact understandable through reason. We assumed that nature behaves in accordance to a certain logic or reasoning and as such, figuring that out would save us from any future suffering.

To Nietzsche, that is essentially the source of Socrates’s optimism, ‘his faith that the nature of things can be fathomed.’ [9], and to him, that was Socrates’ unjustified leap.In fact, it appears to be quite the opposite, as nature always has a chaotic element that abides to no reason. “Pessimism”, wrote Nietzsche, “is the consequence of the absolute illogic of the world-order.” [10]

This pragmatic position adopted by Socrates was then transferred down to Plato and the rest of Western philosophy. Optimists in this sense believe that the above reasons for pessimism are problems that can be fixed through knowledge of the world and ourselves. They believe that there exist answers to our fundamental questions, that we can understand them, and that we can ultimately attain happiness. All of which are groundless unsubstantiated speculations. Leopardi responds to such optimistic assertions by saying: “Did you perhaps imagine that the world was made for your benefit?”[7]

Pessimism on the other hand is well founded as we’ve just shown. To the pessimist, after objective honest reflection, the world gives us no reason to believe that things are going to ultimately turn out in our favor. In fact, it is quite the opposite; the very nature of our existence seems to be the cause of suffering. In this regard, suffering is inevitable and any speculation about the future must lead to an unfavorable conclusion. A pessimist is very aware of all these properties of existence and learns to accept and live with them. He lets go of the belief that we exist to be happy and instead realizes that the world repeatedly and on several fronts appears to be incompatible with that notion. Schopenhauer says: “There is only one inborn erroneous notion … that we exist in order to be happy … So long as we persist in this inborn error … the world seems to us full of contradictions. For at every step, in great things and small, we are bound to experience that the world and life are certainly not arranged for the purpose of maintaining a happy existence.” [11]

Furthermore, there is another fundamental problem with being an optimist; and that is by putting too much hope on the future, one in a sense demotes the present. That is, instead of looking for satisfaction in the present moment, one justifies his current misery by believing it is going to get better in the future. Thus the optimist is always seeking something by definition beyond his grasp, and does not give much thought to his present condition. As Blaise Pascal says: “The future alone is our end. So we never live, but we hope to live; and as we are always preparing to be happy, it is inevitable that we should never be so.” [12]

Finally, it is important to note that pessimism is by no means equal to nihilism. It merely draws our attention to and urges us to acknowledge the nature of our existence. It does not draw conclusions from these observations. Knowledge of our immanent death or our natural tendency for boredom has nothing to do with what we choose to do with our lives. To say that we are eventually going to die, does not mean that we should give up and fall into despair. Pessimism does not, as it is commonly believed, promote inaction and helplessness. It is merely a perspective to adopt that manages our expectations and opens our eyes to the not-as-good-as-advertised life optimists claim to exist.

The Two Responses

Resignation

For Schopenhauer, human suffering is aimless, yet it is an innate object of being human. He says: ‘Unless suffering is the direct and immediate object of life, our existence must entirely fail of its aim.’ [3]

Given the inevitability of suffering as a natural consequence of the human condition, can and should we not want to reduce it? Schopenhauer thought yes, and the way to do so was Resignation; a withdrawal from life into inactivity and isolation. “Resignation” Schopenhauer says, ‘is like the inherited estate; it frees its owner from all care and anxiety forever’ [11]. We will suffer continually through our lives, and to best minimize it we should castrate all our desires, hopes and ambitions; we should seek and expect nothing. That way, one can build a fortress around himself to protect him from this harsh world. “It is really the greatest absurdity to try to turn this scene of woe and lamentation into a pleasure resort. . . Whoever takes a gloomy view regards this world as a kind of hell and is accordingly concerned only with procuring for himself a small fireproof room; such a man is much less mistaken’ [13]

Schopenhauer here tells us to view the world as inherently a place of suffering -like a penal colony- so that we manage our expectations of it and in turn minimize our pain: ‘As a reliable compass for orienting yourself in life nothing is more useful than to accustom yourself to regarding this world as a place of atonement, a sort of penal colony. When you have done this you will order your expectations of life according to the nature of things and no longer regard the calamities, sufferings, torments and miseries of life as something irregular and not to be expected but will find them entirely in order, well knowing that each of us is here being punished for his existence and each in his own particular way. [14]

The only activity Schopenhauer thought we can do that is in accordance to resignation is the contemplation of art. He believed that art can remove us from the worries and obligations of life and put us in touch with the timeless. ‘Art recreates us as “will-less subject … i.e., a pure intelligence without aims or intentions” [14]. From this perspective, the feelings of pleasure we get from contemplating art are nothing good in themselves, but rather just a release from the suffering of life.

In general, Arthur Schopenhauer condemned existence as a whole, and thought we would have been better off had we never come into existence. He wrote: ‘you may look upon life as an unprofitable episode, disturbing the blessed calm of non−existence’. Or simply: ‘Human life must be some kind of mistake’. [3]

Schopenhauer knew that his views may be ‘comfortless’, but he believed he is speaking the truth would not have it any other way. He tells his critics to look for optimism elsewhere; to ask priests or university professors. “I shall be told, I suppose, that my philosophy is comfortless — because I speak the truth; and people prefer to be assured that everything the Lord has made is good. Go to the priests, then, and leave philosophers in peace! At any rate, do not ask us to accommodate our doctrines to the lessons you have been taught. That is what those rascals of sham philosophers will do for you. Ask them for any doctrine you please, and you will get it. Your University professors are bound to preach optimism; and it is an easy and agreeable task to upset their theories” [3].

Assertion

In contrast, Nietzsche, who saw the world no less than did Schopenhauer as a place of continuous suffering, took the opposite position. Nietzsche believed that we should adhere to what he called ‘pessimism of strength’, a perspective with which we face the world’s suffering and revel in it. We ought not allow the world suppress us into a mode of inaction and isolation. This is what Nietzsche called ‘pessimism of weakness’. He did not accept Schopenhauer’s conclusion that the best response following a pessimistic diagnosis of the world is to resign and withdraw from it. In fact, Nietzsche wondered why it was assumed the pessimist necessarily had to give into feelings of depression and despair at all:

“Is pessimism necessarily a sign of decline, decay, degeneration, weary and weak instincts? …Is there a pessimism of strength?” [9] He believed that those who resign from life are cowards who chose not to rise and face the burdens of existing, and they are using pessimism to justify their inaction.

To Nietzsche, one should try to take joy in the tragedy that is human life.

“You ought to learn the art of this-worldly comfort first; you ought to learn to laugh, my young friends, if you are hell-bent on remaining pessimists.’ [9].

It is also important to note how Nietzsche viewed art, he did not see it as a way to escape from life, but rather as a way to gain deeper access and insight into life.

Nietzsche also believed that there is in fact another, perhaps positive, consequence of our time consciousness. That just because life is constantly changing, it is constantly renovating, and we can learn to appreciate this constant appearance of novelty. If human beings, among all the animals, are the only ones capable of appreciating the significance of death, above all their own death, it is equally true that they are the only animals capable of appreciating the significance of birth, above all their own birth. Accordingly, a pessimist of strength should value development over comfort and satisfaction. He views the world’s suffering not as a curse, but as a catalyst for his transformation into a stronger wiser being.[6] As German poet Friedrich Holderlin said “He who steps upon his misery stands higher.” [15]

This can be regarded as the final proof that pessimism is not to be equated with resignation, depression or nihilism. In the face of great suffering, the pessimist of strength does not retreat, but rather advances willingly into hostile territory. Not to die gloriously but instead to “live dangerously” and to die necessarily. He does not cower from hardships and struggles, but instead revels and takes joy in them, and even, dare I say, comes to love them.

“The trust in life is gone:”, Nietzsche wrote, “life itself has become a problem. Yet one should not jump to the conclusion that this necessarily makes one gloomy. Even love of life is still possible, only one loves differently” [16].

My Personal Opinion

First of all, I am a pessimist. I believe such a position makes sense as the correct response to life given its and our imperfect inherent nature. One should get accustomed to disappointment and learn to deal with it instead of developing an unfounded short lived feeling of happiness or satisfaction. That is not to say I agree with Schopenhauer. I personally am in favor of Nietzsche’s concept of ‘pessimism of strength’. Nietzsche realizes the potential of humans; he realizes that through our will we can overcome whatever hardships are in our way. He views suffering not as aimless but rather as serving the purpose of transforming us. This view is clearly apparent in his concepts of ‘will to power’ and the ‘Übermensch’ or the Overman. I believe this perspective to be deeply empowering and highly respectful of the human mind and will. If we can conceive of ourselves as not suffering, if we can conceive of ourselves as more than what we currently are, then it is our duty and obligation to ourselves to strive to achieve it. Our cognition and awareness is what separates us from the animals, and our will to do is what will separate us from humans. Nietzsche shows us the road to the Overman, and urges us to take it. As the world is constantly changing, we can as well change with it, we can use it for our benefit. Schopenhauer on the other hand, I believe, does the human no justice by underestimating his will power and potential to transcend hardships and even his very nature. To him we are static in a constantly changing world, that I find insensible. Not to mention how obviously devastating his solution of resignation would be on any further human advances.

To sum up, pessimism is largely a misunderstood unpopular perspective that proves itself to be much more well rooted and realistic than its optimistic counterpart. The main motivations behind pessimism stem from the very nature of our existence, and it is up to us how we choose to interpret and respond to them. Schopenhauer and Nietzsche provide us with two different ways to deal with suffering innate in our nature in light of a pessimistic philosophy; namely resignation and assertion. Resignations aims to minimize suffering through a withdrawal from life while assertion or as Nietzsche calls it ‘pessimism of strength’ favors facing the suffering and trying to even find joy in it.

References

[1]A. Camus, Resistance, rebellion, and death, 1st ed. New York: Knopf, 1961.

[2]F. Nietzsche and R. Hollingdale, Untimely meditations, 1st ed. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997.

[3]A. Schopenhauer and T. Saunders, The Essays of Arthur Schopenhauer ; Studies in Pessimism, 1st ed. Project Gutenberg, 2004.

[4]J. Rousseau, R. Masters, J. Masters and J. Rousseau, The first and second discourses, 1st ed. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1964.

[5]M. Cervantes Saavedra, J. Rutherford and R. González Echevarría, The ingenious hidalgo Don Quixote de la Mancha, 1st ed. New York, N.Y.: Penguin Books, 2001.

[6]J. Dienstag, Pessimism, 1st ed. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2006

[7]G. Leopardi, Essays and dialogues of Giacomo Leopardi, 1st ed. London: Trübner, 1882.

[8]E. Cioran, The trouble with being born, 1st ed. New York: Viking Press, 1976.

[9]F. Nietzsche, M. Montinari and G. Colli, Werke. Kritische Gesamtausgabe, 1st ed. .

[10]F. Nietzsche, The birth of tragedy, 1st ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000.

[11]A. Schopenhauer and E. Payne, The world as will and representation, 1st ed. Indian Hills, Col.: Falcon’s Wing Press, 1958.

[12]B. Pascal, Pensees, 1st ed. Paris: Librairie Generale Francaise, 1972.

[13]A. Schopenhauer, Parerga und Paralipomena, 1st ed. Zürich: Haffmans Verlag, 1988.

[14]A. Schopenhauer and R. Hollingdale, Essays and aphorisms, 1st ed. .

[15]F. Hölderlin and E. Santner, Hyperion and selected poems, 1st ed. New York: Continuum, 1990.

[16]F. Nietzsche and W. Kaufmann, The gay science, 1st ed. New York: Vintage Books, 1974.

[sundayswiththeilluminati]

The unplanned fourth part to my apparently-a-series on Essek Thelyss in the context of real-world espionage (parts 1, 2, and 3), today we look at an aspect of his story that doesn’t always apply in a D&D world: how do you prosecute espionage? 

Psych! That’s not the real question. The real question is: do you prosecute espionage? The answer is a) not as obvious as it might seem; and b) going to differ between D&D and the real world, because D&D governments are storytelling tools and IRL governments are...not.

The benefits of prosecuting espionage are obvious: the interests of justice are served, the person responsible can be punished appropriately and in accordance with the law, the full extent of their crimes are revealed (including potentially exonerating other suspects), counterintelligence gets to chalk up a win, and other people thinking about committing espionage themselves are hopefully discouraged. But there are a surprising number of arguments in the “against” column.

Some agencies that identify enemy assets want to leave them in place for their own purposes. For about 20 years during the Cold War CIA reserved the right to just plain not tell the Department of Justice if they had proof someone was engaged in espionage because they wanted the opportunity to turn them as double agents, feed them misinformation, etc. rather than outing and punishing them (President Gerald Ford ended this arrangement by executive order in 1976). This isn’t necessarily a good idea IRL, but it forms the bread and butter of RPG espionage storylines and is definitely something to think about in a D&D context.

In the real world, ideally someone can only be found guilty of a crime and punished accordingly after a trial, and an agency often finds itself with sufficient evidence to doubt a person’s trustworthiness but not enough hard proof to take to court. In those cases agencies may decide to leave that person in place but cut off their access to classified info. Ironically, sometimes this means promoting them - moving the person into a higher-ranking job in a different area that just so happens not to deal in secrets. Sometimes the asset realizes they’re close to being rumbled and goes along with the effort, maybe taking retirement early or changing jobs before they can be pushed, and the whole matter will quietly lapse without anything so formal as a trial. Sometimes someone makes a mistake and sidelines a loyal, competent employee. That’s a judgement call.

In the real world, ideally someone can only be found guilty of a crime and punished accordingly after an open trial. Given how severe the punishments are for espionage, civilized countries do try to stick to that even though holding such a trial carries risks. Providing proof that someone stole secrets generally requires talking about said secrets, which means revealing classified info in court, which may negate trying to keep the information secret in the first place. They may also not want to reveal in court how they figured out that person was a spy, especially if it was a double agent or cryptographic source that fingered them. In D&D-land where monarchs are common and still wield judicial power, fantasy rulers may hand down whatever punishment they please based on whatever evidence they (or the DM) will accept, so this isn’t as much of a concern.

Even a D&D monarchy that doesn’t have to worry about revealing secrets in court might think twice before publicly punishing a high-ranking spy, though, because the only thing more embarrassing than failing to convict a major spy is succeeding. A government having to admit that its people were compromised, especially high-ranking people, is a body-blow to its standing both at home and abroad. It damages trust in the government, makes the public feel unsafe, and makes allies hesitant to share information lest their secrets be leaked as well. Lower-ranking government employees may think, “My boss is selling secrets, why not me too?” or “Why bother to follow security protocol when some mole will give it all away?” Every decision and contribution made by the asset becomes retroactively suspect, even those that had nothing to do with whatever secrets they leaked. The foreign nation to whom they passed information inevitably gets drawn in as well, negatively affecting those relations. And of course everyone involved looks very, very bad.

All of which leads me to say I think there’s a chance - maybe not a good chance, but a chance - that Essek could privately confess the affair to the Bright Queen without major public repercussions. Leylas Kryn could simply declare him a traitor and order his public execution without justifying herself, but it would raise a lot of questions and none of the answers would help her or the ruling dens; Den Thelyss allowing Den Kryn to unilaterally execute a high-profile member - a child of the umavi - without explanation would stoke ferocious rumors about what Essek might have done and cast a major shadow over the entire den. But publicly declaring what Essek had done also doesn’t do the Dynasty any favors. It makes everyone involved look very bad - how could they miss a spy at the highest level? so close to the Bright Queen herself?? who can be trusted??? - especially Den Thelyss, which might lose its place among the ruling three as a result. Publicly outing such a high-ranking Kryn official as compromised might set off the Dynasty equivalent of a Red Scare, too, since the Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount mentions the constant and well-justified Dynasty fear of agents sent by Lolth to destabilize the Kryn out of sheer spite that they got away from her.

By the time Campaign 2 ended the latest clash between Empire and Dynasty had been settled and neither side seemed to want to stir it up again right away. The fact that both stolen beacons have been returned also bolsters the case for letting the matter lie. A confession from Essek clears up remaining doubt on the Bright Queen’s end - while he doesn’t know every Empire agent in the Dynasty, he can tell her exactly how the beacons were stolen and who else was involved, probably clearing the names of many currently under suspicion. Essek would have to resign as Shadowhand, of course, and leave the Dynasty (at least for a couple centuries), but he never seemed interested in being Shadowhand and he wants to go exploring anyway. Den Thelyss definitely wants the whole affair swept under the rug and would go along with whatever story made that happen. Other than Verin I don’t get the impression many people would miss Essek except as a lost opportunity. I hope they’d give him long enough before leaving Rosohna to pack up his cool leyline-weathervane though. He could totally mount that on Yussa’s tower. Or Allura’s!

And that concludes this particular train of thought re: Essek Thelyss in the context of IRL spies and espionage. Again, all of this is only as relevant to the campaign as the players decide it is, so don’t go giving people crap for being “unrealistic” about their versions of how the beacon trade went down. Frankly the last thing you should want here is realism, because “realistic” espionage is a callous world of deception, manipulation, and general human pettiness with no sense of narrative flow.

None of what I’ve talked about is an excuse for Essek’s actions. But it is a reason. It’s why and how a person entrusted with precious national assets could get into a headspace where it seems reasonable, even necessary, to trade them away to foreign enemies. It’s how a person of otherwise decent character & beliefs can end up committing terrible crimes. It’s why that person might sincerely regret what they’ve done, and not just because they fear punishment. The Warmind Rasputin paraphrases Octavia E. Butler saying, “Misdirected by accident or intent, intelligence can foster its own ecstasies of growth and decay.” In other words: sometimes you get too far into your own head. Without an anchor to reality, without perspective, your own mind gets twisted up. Sometimes you just need a friend (or seven) to grab your arm and say, “Breathe.”

(This accidentally turned into a series on Essek & IRL espionage: Parts 1, 2, 3, 4)

[amor-immortalem]

Everything Undesired chapter 4

Chapter 3

Warning: mention of torture? Light victim blaming, Lucifer, Satan, and Beel commit murder.

“I see,” Diavolo had a contemplative look on his face. The demon lord, often seen with a jovial, bright smile plastered upon his face, now had replaced it with a more serious look as Lucifer explained just what had happened to his brother. “And you’re positive this is what happened to Mammon?”

“Asmo is certain enough that he would stake his title as Avatar of Lust on it.” Satan spoke up.

“I see, if that’s the case then I will permit you up to the human world to pay these women a visit. Make sure they suffer, all three of you.” The warmth in his voice, his eyes, now replaced with a cold tone and a wrathful look, absolutely enraged that a demon not just under his rule, but in his cabinet no less had been assaulted in this manner. He may have failed in protecting the Avatar of Greed from this but he would see to it that a crime this grave never happened again to one of his subjects. “I’d would go in your stead to deal with them myself, but I will stay behind and work to pass legislation to ban the making of pacts freely. This will not happen again; I swear it on my life and my throne.”

And with Diavolo’s permission the three Avatars were off, out for blood for the travesty that befell their brother. Once they were gone, Diavolo turned to his butler.

“Barbatos, did you foresee this at all? Was there not anything we could have done differently to prevent this?” For as angry as he is, the demon lord feels a certain sense of guilt for what happened to the white-haired demon. What kind of ruler cannot protect one of his subjects from something so heinous?

“In another reality, yes.” He nodded, “But never in this one specifically, my Lord.”

“What happens next?”

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The three Avatars stand outside the residence of the witches. Lucifer is the first to step forward, demon form manifesting from the wrath coursing through his being. The aura he emits is suffocating to all around him. A knock on the door is all the courtesy he plans to give them tonight.

When the door opens, there is a collective gasp.

“L-Lord Lucifer,” One of the sisters steps back as the three demons barge their way inside the building. “To what do we owe the honor of this visit from not only you, but your younger brothers as well?”

“Do not. DO NOT ACT AS IF YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO OUR BROTHER!” Satan roars, his demon for making its appearance. He’s ready to go on the attack however it’s Lucifer that stops him with a simple wave of the hand.

“We know everything you’ve done.” The eldest’s voice is cold, gaze calculated. “You’ve not only laid a hand on one of my brothers, but my favorite one at that. That in and of itself is enough to warrant your deaths, but to cause him such suffering will ensure they are not quick.

With another wave of his hand, the Avatar of Pride bound the three women before letting his brothers have a go at the other two. The eldest was his.

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Asmo took a step into his brother’s room and was devastated to see the look on his brother’s face. He looked so broken; his cheeks soaked with tears as Asmo heard Arella speaking.

“You don’t have to do it if you’re not strong enough for it. I’m sure there are alternatives we could find if you can’t. Just remember, you’re not alone in this. We all will help you if you decide to go through with this.”

The demon’s curiosity was piqued. Just what we’re they talking about?

“’Rella, I can’t ask that of any of you. This is my punishment for bein’ so powerless.”

Asmodeus cleared his throat to gain her their attention.

“What are you two talking about? Did something else happen?”

Arella only picked up the phone and handed it to him. What he saw was enough to pull a gasp from the demon. It made him sick.

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As soon as it had begun, the torture was over. None of the three brothers had even broken a sweat at this point. The witches hadn’t even lasted that long. Blood and viscera coat the floor, bones stick out from odd places, one has pieces missing from her body here and there- bite marks and missing flesh, even a missing arm- all courtesy of the Avatar of Gluttony.

“Beel, are you hungry or has anger tided your hunger?”

“I'm famished,” The Avatar of Gluttony confirmed.

“Go ahead and dispose of their bodies then. Make sure no trace of them remains.” The Avatar of Pride nods to his younger brother.

It was then that they heard it- the screaming cry of a frightened baby. The sound was easy to miss over the shrieking and wailing- the pleas for mercy that would never come. One by one, their heads turned to the sound just upstairs as they all came to terms with the fact that a child had been born from this travesty.

Satan was the first to move as he climbed the stairs. Just off to the right was a tiny nursery and lying in the crib, he found the child. All of his instincts were screaming at him to do away with the infant. He almost did had it not been for Lucifer’s hand placed on his shoulder. They were soon joined by Beel as all three of them peered down at the tiny child below them.

“What do we do?” Beel asked.

“Do we take them with us? Or do we leave them to the proverbial wolves?”

Both brothers looked to the eldest, demanding an answer. For the first time, the Avatar of Pride doesn’t have the answer. Does he take the life of an innocent child or does he subject his brother to a lifetime of suffering? It's an impossible decision to make where either party ultimately loses in the end.

Lucifer reaches down and takes the infant into his arms, a pained look on his face as he scrutinizes the infant’s appearance. Suddenly, he’s flashing back to his time as an angel, back to the first time he ever held Mammon in his arms. The child is an exact carbon copy of their father, no apparent features from his mother or her sisters, this was the best case scenario, but the little one looks sickly- likely due to the lack of demonic influence that would have been received from their father had he been present during the pregnancy.

Finally, after remaining silent for what felt like eternity Lucifer spoke up. “The child doesn’t look long from this world. We’ll wait for morning. If they survive the night, we’ll take them with us- let Mammon decide what to do with them.”

The other two nodded as Beel went back downstairs to finish the meal he had started.

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“You don’t have to take him, Mammon.” Asmo kept staring at the photo on his brother’s D.D.D. as he spoke.

“He has no one else, Asmo,” The white-haired demon frowns. “I can’t just leave him to die and it’s not like I can just give ‘im away either. As much as I hate it, he’s the heir to everything I am- the next Avatar of Greed, the next ruler of the fourth layer. It’ll be hard at first, but I’ll force myself to look past what happened to me. This isn’t his fault, so why punish him for the crimes of his mother and her sisters? He’s innocent in all this.”

“Even now,” the Avatar of Lust chuckled sadly, “after all these years, you still have the heart of an angel, don’t you? You aren’t thinking about what this will do to you, are you? He’ll be a constant reminder of your trauma. Is that really fair to you?”

“It isn't, but when has life ever been fair? If life was fair, we wouldn’t ’ve lost Lilith- wouldn't ‘ve fallen from the Celestial Realm.” He wiped at his eyes.

“No. It’s not, but I still think this is a bad idea for you. None of us will stop you if this is what you want to do but you shouldn’t do it just out a sense of obligation.” Asmo placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You should only keep him if you want to.”

At the look of resignation on Mammon’s face, Arella placed a hand on his back. “We’re here if you need us. If it gets to be too much, I can help care for him, okay?” She echoes the words she had said previously.

“Babe, you don’t-”

“I know I don’t, but I want to.” She smiled softly. “We’re in this together. All of us.” She looked to the strawberry blonde demon as he nodded in agreement.

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Satan sat in the rocking chair next to the crib while Lucifer was on the phone notifying Diavolo of the situation as well as speaking to Arella in regards to the baby. He studied his nephew, wondering just what might happen to the little boy. Over the hours since finding him here, the tiny half-demon seemed to be getting stronger- likely from just being in the presence of his brothers and him. It was apparent that the child would be coming with them. He wondered what his brother’s reaction would be to the infant. Demons were known to kill unwanted offspring out of panic.

It was the circle of life, the blonde supposed. Not what the child deserved, but if it led to that, there was really nothing anyone could do. He was drawn from his thoughts as quiet chirps sounded from the boy. He watched as the infant brought his little hand to his mouth and he started squirming in the mass of blankets he was swaddled in.

The Avatar of Wrath looked around for a bottle or really anything that could be a source of nourishment. Of course, the newborn would get hungry eventually- that's essentially all babies at this age, eat and sleep. The demon finally finds a mini fridge on the wall opposite the crib, right next to the changing table. He had never fed a baby before but he would be willing to try as long as it kept the boy satisfied and kept him from crying. A trial by fire as they say.

Rocking the infant carefully, he slowly got up and retrieved a bottle from the fridge. It was a lot smaller than he thought an infant should take but it was good enough for the time being. Thankfully there was a bottle warmer placed on a nightstand near the crib. He placed it inside, setting the temperature at that of a human’s normal body temperature. When the milk was sufficiently heated, he gave it to the child who then suckled it down rather quickly,

“Hey now, there’s no need to suck it down so fast. You'll choke if you’re not careful.”

Lucifer had rejoined at him at this point. The scene of his brother trying so hard to feed the baby almost made him chuckle. “I can take him, if you’d like, Satan.”

“Please, I really don’t know how to do this.” He pulled the bottle away so he could transfer the child to his older brother.

“It won’t be long until the dawn. Gather up some of his things as we’ll be taking him with us. I just got off the phone with Arella. She told me Mammon plans on keeping the him.” Lucifer only sighed, wondering if the Avatar of Greed was only doing this out of a sense of obligation and responsibility.

Green to yellow gradient eyes widen in surprise at the statement. “He’s planning on keeping him? I figured he wouldn’t want anything to do with the baby.”

“As did I but, for all of our brother’s flaws, he’s still genuinely a good person. I don’t think he can really leave behind someone who needs him- especially an innocent child.” Lucifer looks down at the child who has now finished the bottle. “Hand me a rag.”

“Why?”

“Well, I would prefer not to be spat up on and now that he’s finished eating, he needs to be burped.” The eldest moved the infant to rest against his shoulder as Satan handed him the nearest rag he could find. “Babies aren’t capable of burping on their own. Now, go gather his things. I’ll tend to him for the time being."

Next

Masterlist 2

[jiminniethemarshmallow]

Thank You For Your Service IV (M)

Thank you @7stars-aligned13 for the beautiful mood board!!  Pairing: Jimin x Reader Genre: smut, angst, fluff Warnings: mentions of trouble conceiving, lots of time skips, squirting, face fucking, dom!Jimin, slight role play, impreg kink, dirty talk, fingering, cream pie Word Count: 24,500

Part 1~ Part 2~ Part 3~ Part 4

You hiccup, already crying fat tears before you’ve even heard the news. You fear those words, feel the emptiness, and it hurts your soul. The straight faced doctor takes her time coming into your room, letting out a sigh once she sees your face. It’s from exasperation, but you would like to interpret it as sympathy. She stands at the foot of your bed, waiting until you calm your breathing enough to hear her.

“As I am sure you have guessed, you are not with child.” Those words break your heart for the sixth time and you break down into sobs, hiding your face in Jimin’s pillows.

Six months. It has been six long months since you were wed and you still are not pregnant. Even after all those late nights, early mornings when you’d send the servants away before your schedules began, the remedies and special foods, the slightly uncomfortable positions and pillow mountains, you still are not yet carrying your husband’s child. And it crushes you.

Yes, you know having children is not all you are good for, but it is one of your duties as a Queen. Having heirs is something that only you can do and the entire kingdom awaits expectantly for the news of an incoming prince or princess that they can idolize and adore, so you feel the pressure at all times of day— as well as guilt in regards to your barren womb. You should be fertile at this youthful time in your life. Both you and Jimin have passed every physical examination and remain in excellent health, which is why it is so perplexing to you that you are having trouble conceiving. Rosé, Queen of the kingdom just north of yours, is already pregnant and she was wed to her husband an entire month after you. Twins, you hear she’s having. You’d hate to fall behind her kingdom in any aspect, even in such a trivial competition as having children. She has nothing to do with your family, and yet, you still feel so inferior because you do not yet have one.

“To put it bluntly,” Your doctor begins, looking down at the paper she’s holding, scribbled with notes. “I believe the cause of your current condition— or lack thereof— is due to the poisoning you endured several months ago. It is possible that the potion affected your reproductive organs in some imperceptible way; your kidneys exhibited symptoms of its effects for nearly a month after your recovery, so we cannot completely rule out this possibility. But, Your Highness, the only way I would be able to test this hypothesis is through surgery to visually inspect your organs.”

You shudder at the thought of being cut open, shaking your head animatedly. Maybe you would consider this “inspection” after a year of effort and failure, but you would not take such drastic measures this early. No matter how much the constant failure hurt.

“If my infertility is due to the poison-“ You swallow thickly when your voice comes out as a mere whimper.

“Let us not be so hasty in calling it infertility, Your Majesty.” She interrupts, stare lightening just slightly. She’s learned the tiniest bit of respect since working under Jimin, his low tolerance for rudeness and spiny disposition during medical examinations slowly beginning to unnerve her cold discourse. Many a time has he reprimanded her for speaking to you informally or for her lack of sympathy, and you are finally starting to see a change, though she still interrupts you to interject.

“If my current inability to conceive is because of the poison,” You try again, “Are there any elixirs or pills I could take to lessen its effects? There must be something!”

“Because we do not know entirely if this is due to the poison, I am hesitant to give you treatment— sometimes getting pregnant is difficult for some people and there is nothing medically wrong with them. For now I can only give you advice on conception: try to lower your stress levels, eat more fruits and vegetables for vitamins, and do not over exert yourself. That is all for today, I will be back in a month for your regular check up unless I am needed sooner.” With that she turns and leaves, not waiting to be dismissed and leaving you alone in your room.

It is the middle of winter and the bone-chilling winds whip against your windows. The palace is heated by fire, but you refuse to light your fireplace, choosing to sit and suffer in the cold alone as you wallow in your gloom. Jimin has been busy all day with kingdom affairs, out and about performing duties that not even your father cared enough to get done. The people love him, love how involved he is and how much he cares, and they never hesitate to alert him to any problems they might have that Jimin could take care of. Of course he doesn’t mind, you knew he would never be able to stay inside these sheltered walls for long when he was so used to the excitement of training and battle, but you wished he would spare a little time to cater to your issues. His absence during your monthly checkups is not unusual. For the first three he held your hand and sat with you, on the fourth he left in the middle due to an urgent matter, and these last two he has been out of the castle altogether. Since your third appointment, when your hopes of being pregnant were at its highest, he seemed to have a very negative attitude toward your checkups. He told you he did not intentionally avoid these meetings, and you think that is partly true, but you know that he must hate the constant rejection and is deliberately making himself unavailable when he thinks you will be rejected again. He would much rather hear the bad news from you instead of your cold doctor.

When you asked your father to accompany you, he sort of grimaced and then politely declined. You understand, the thought of addressing the fact that your daughter has not only been deflowered, but is being repeatedly taken in the efforts of bearing fruit is sickening to you, too. Also, he is not very adept at comforting you when you break down like this, face buried in your husband’s pillows and shoulders shaking with sobs.

Telling by the ache in your skull and the completely soaked through cushion beneath your head, a long time has passed by the time you finally raise your face at the sound of Jimin shuffling into your bedroom. He shivers once the door is closed again, expecting warmth but being met with bitterness.

“It is freezing in here.” He rasps beneath his breath, ignoring you momentarily to light the fireplace, moving to shed the outer layers of his clothing once the fire is of decent size. The single glance he took at you upon entering is all he needed to know what has transpired, and he is in no rush to hear the devastating words. It’s only until he is in comfortable attire that he turns to face you, easing your head onto his chest with a curled bottom lip before he’s even settled properly on the mattress. “My love...”

Your tears flow freely onto his chest and he says nothing, sighing into your hair because by now this has become a common occurrence.

“She said it might be,” You snivel, “because of the poison.” He closes his eyes, having suspected the same thing but praying that it was not true. He wondered if the poison would have any long lasting effects on you, or on your future offspring, but dismissed the thought immediately. Although he knows nothing of what the doctor has said, he feels discouraged nonetheless. His past failure to protect you continues to circle around his head like a vulture, tormenting him to no end and making its appearance to pick at his wounds whenever he starts to move on from it. Six months feels like a long time, but it is apparent that his emotional scars need far longer to fully heal. And for that he owes to Jinwoo.

“I am s-sorry for being s-so weak.” You wipe your nose, face red and puffy from both tears and embarrassment. “Half a year ago you had not yet seen me shed tears, and now...” Almost as if the word itself had summoned them, fresh droplets fall from your eyes, looking pitifully up at the man who had stolen your heart. Only, he must have given it back to you at some point because you feel too much these days and you are tired of hurting like this. God, you probably look so ugly right now, you can feel how swollen and red your eyes and cheeks are, your self confidence plummeting to an all-time low.

“You are beautiful and strong, (Y/n), do not ever think less of yourself. You have good reason to feel the way you do, please do not think that you have to be stoic in front of me.” Like always, Jimin says exactly the right thing to ease your mind, using his hand to wipe your wet face and burrowing into the sheets with you attached to his side, his heat warming the icy sheets that drowned you when you had been alone.

You retired to bed early last night, which is why you can afford to wake up with the sun this morning. Jimin sleeps soundly behind you, but his presence is felt stiffly on your ass between the thin layers of clothing. Snow twinkles on your windowsill, probably the last snow of the season, but you find the sun beaming as brightly as ever to illuminate the room. With the weather beginning to warm in preparation for spring, you’ve grown accustomed to the gentle sound of melting snow dripping outside your window. Mornings like these are scarce and you plan to make the most of it.

You attempt to turn and face your beloved, but his arms tighten around your waist, locking you in your position. A sleepy groan tickles your ear, the vibrations of his voice sending a shiver through you.

“You’re up early.” Jimin mumbles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. His voice is always so deep and raspy in the mornings, his dialect coming forth with a yawn. You could listen to him speak like that forever, but all you can think about at the moment is how good his moans would sound with the added rumble of bass that comes from sleep.

“So are you.” You snort with a sly wiggle of your hips. The twitch of his length against you sends a flash of exhilaration through your system— time has been short lately and it has been far too long since you’ve last felt him. Apparently he feels the same way, his hand effortlessly gliding up your rib cage to palm at your clothed breast with a deep sigh. You can tell his eyes are still closed due to the laziness of his movements, but it doesn’t matter when his tender touches set your body on fire like this.

His lips find their way to your neck as he shifts closer, kissing and sucking gently enough not to leave marks but to get your heart racing with need. “Take this off.” You follow his instructions and promptly shed the nightgown from your body, leaving you nude against him as he presses himself to you once again, this time slipping a hand between your legs. Your nipples harden from the brief chill of the room before you adjust the covers over your shoulder again, and Jimin takes advantage of this with two fingers, twisting the bud between them to send a spike of pleasure down your spine.

You muffle a groan once his fingers begin to tease at your lower lips, spreading them and toying with the outer skin just to build your anticipation. He wants you to drip before he’s even touched you properly, to whimper into the sheets until you can’t take it anymore and call out his name in frustration. Your clit gets pinched between his fingers when he squeezes them closed, trapping the bud as he continues to rub you up and down, and you find yourself panting in a matter of seconds. Soon, his fingers start to get coated in the essence that seeps from you. It’s so sexy that he can barely stand it. Jimin loves to feel your warm juices trickling out of you, working you up almost feels better than tending to himself, and his breathing hitches too when you begin to wiggle in his grasp.

“Look at my gorgeous Queen, getting soaking wet from just a few light touches. So cock hungry this early in the morning.” His words make you quiver and whine, the teasing quality of his voice right up against the shell of your ear driving you absolutely insane. “I’ll give you what you want if you tell me~” You hadn’t expected him to be so playful after just waking up, but it’s a pleasant surprise.

“I want you to make me cum,” You breathe out between pants. “Then I want you to pump me full of your seed. Please, My King.” Your words have their own special effect on him, evident by the lustful groan he releases into your hair and how his hips subtly shift behind you. Immediately, his fingers move to your clit to lightly graze over the hood until you buck into him, only then does he add pressure. Your back arches into his palm as he continues to play with your nipple, having turned his attention to the other in order to provide the same treatment, pulling and tweaking at it, working the nerves until they’re raw and sensitive enough to have you gasping with every flick.

Jimin doesn’t need to be able to see you in your entirety to know how you look right now. You’re completely helpless to his touch, he can feel you writhing against him and heating up the space between the sheets as your temperature rises. He can feel your heart beating hard against your chest— and he wonders if you can feel his from his position pressed against your back. It has been a while since he’s allowed himself to indulge in these fantasies. He’s pleased to know that he still has every inch of you committed to memory and is able to so easily have you at his fingertips, quite literally. These past months, your focus has been solely on procreating in the bedroom and rarely for the fun of it, so this is refreshing. But he still asks anyway.

“You want me to spill my seed into you, hm? Are you fertile right now?” His words slip past your ears as you lose yourself to the circles he draws into your bud, but somehow you manage to catch them at the last second.

“It does not matter, I want you anyway.” The answer is no, you aren’t at your most fertile at the moment, but this isn’t about that. Regardless of if anything will come of it or not, you want to feel Jimin paint your walls white with his love, something you think you’ve become addicted to. You bask in the feeling of having him throb and twitch and lose control while at the mercy of your tight walls, even when he’s pounding your weak frame into whatever surface he’s decided to take you on, and the thought has you galloping toward your peak faster than expected.

His leg slips between yours to prop them open, two of his fingers dancing their way into your clenching entrance, the intrusion pulling a loud moan from your lips. They glide and twirl within you much to your delight, but before you can enjoy it fully, they pop out and slither back up to your clit with a thick coating of your own slick. It doesn’t bother you, you could cum like this easily, but what really makes you gape is the feeling of Jimin’s hard member grinding against your ass. You can feel that his briefs are now damp with a mixture of precum and your wetness as you continue to drip down your thighs and make a mess of yourself, and you can’t help but rock your hips into his motion. You grind into each other with sensual synchronization and soon he’s panting along with you, the swollen head of his cock peeking out from his briefs to wet your cheek, teasing you endlessly.

“Jimin,” You whine, praying that he’ll let you cum quickly this morning despite his teasing mood. Every buck into his fingers shoots jolts of pleasure through you and every press against his hot cock has you throbbing at your emptiness. It’s a never-ending loop that has both of you moaning in no time, and it isn’t long before the coil in your stomach tightens to its peak. “Fuck, I’m cumming.” You whisper quietly, your breath being stolen away by the feeling of your orgasm. Your husband groans behind you, forcing his own hips to jerk to a stop as you roll against him to ride out the waves. He can feel you pulsing against his fingers and suddenly craves to feel you around his member, removing his hand from between your legs to push away his bottoms.

“Are you ready for me, darling?” He whispers with soft kisses to your shoulder as you begin to relax again. His tip glides effortlessly against your drenched lips and the fire inside you reignites instantly.

“I am always ready for you, my love.” Turning your head, you find his lips and savor the passionate kiss you share, a warmth blooming in your chest that saves you from the cold of the bedroom. Ever so slowly he pushes inside you, bringing a hand up to hold your face to his as his tongue slips between your lips. Vibrations mingle throughout your bodies as you both moan, the insertion tight as he stretches you open in the early morning light, his morning wood always so sensitive especially with your recent bout of abstinence. On the first thrust his fingers intertwine with yours, and this is the most intimate moment you’ve had with him in a long while. It feels like ages have passed since you’ve indulged each other in slow sex and you are starting to realize just how much you’ve craved it. “I missed you.” You mumble against his lips, barely wanting to pull away to look at him.

“I���ve missed you, too.” Jimin smiles, his eyes still closed but hand still caressing your face. He uses it to skim down your figure, hooking under your leg to lift it over his own and allow him deeper into your cavern, angling himself until you squeeze his hand with a shaky moan.

He honestly thinks he could stay like this forever: wrapped up in your warmth, surrounded by blankets, giving you all the love and pleasure he can provide. Things have been so hectic these last few months, an odd tension growing between you two that he can always feel but can’t quite put his finger on, but in these calm moments before the chaos of the day, he feels completely safe and at ease. Being King is no easy task, this he expected, but this is the only time he gets to shed the expectations, the pretenses, the pressure and just be your lover. Just like at the beginning of your relationship— and how things were 8 months ago, when the Crown was first placed in his hands.

You feel almost like a rag doll in his arms as he snaps his hips into you, allowing him to take you and guide you to bliss. Your hips rock back into him subtly, inner muscles squeezing around his shaft and gripping onto him, begging him to stay buried inside to occupy your lonely walls and empty womb. Pressure builds in your lower abdomen again, accompanied by a flush that takes over your body and warms you uncomfortably under the sheets. Jimin tosses the coverings aside when it gets too much, sweat slicking where your bodies connect. Your nails dig into the flesh of his ass when you reach a hand back to rest on the muscle, groaning at how you can feel every movement whenever his hips surge forward, his strength jolting you with his slow, powerful strokes. His length curves perfectly inside you, touching all your favorite spots and it becomes increasingly apparent that you won’t last long like this. He encourages you with gentle sweet nothings tickled against your ear.

“My lovely wife, always so good to me.” Jimin nuzzles his face in your hair, pulling you impossibly closer as his hand returns to your breast. “Always so soft and wet around my cock, darling. Are you getting close again, my love?” You whimper loudly and nod, not trusting your voice entirely when you’re feeling so breathless. “You sound so sweet moaning for me like that. Shall we let the entire castle know what a splendid morning we’re having together? Let them hear how well your King takes care of you.”

“Jimin~” You croon as he picks up pace, hips slapping against your backside and filling the air alongside your heavy breathing. Removing his bottom hand from yours, he props himself up on his elbow to look down over you, opening his legs wider to gain as much leverage as possible to fuck into you. The speed and power he achieves like this has you crying out into the open air, uncaring of who hears how wrecked you sound. You’re certain that the guards keeping watch at your door are uncomfortable by the display of lust, but who are they to judge when Jimin touches just the right places within you to have your body coming apart at the seams?

“Cum for me, my love,” Your husband’s voice feels distant as your thoughts float away. You are not aware enough to marvel at the sheer strength and endurance of his hips, his pace not faltering even once. Crumpling the sheets beneath you, you turn your face into the pillow as your body starts to quiver, a warm hand gripping onto your hip to keep you in place against the onslaught of pleasure. “There you go, milk me of my seed.”

Just the simple thought he plants in your mind’s eye is enough to send you into heaven, your walls clamping down around him with a scream of bliss, just as he requested. Feeling him so deeply makes your eyes roll, every stroke kissing the entrance of your womb and you pray he gives you every last drop he has. With only a few more pushes of his hips, you feel his body tense behind you and shiver, an overwhelmingly sexy groan breathed right into your ear.

It takes several moments of gentle thrusting before he’s satisfied, your body sufficiently full of his sperm and skin tingling with the aftermath of a beautiful orgasm you happily shared. Jimin kisses his way down from the side of your cheeks and neck to your shoulder and arm, ignoring the thin layer of perspiration that dries quickly in the brisk morning air. Though soft, he remains inside of you as he settles himself back against the mattress and holds your body to his, lifting the sheets to cover you before the chill returns. You feel safe. Completely and utterly safe and comfortable in your lover’s arms as you drift back to sleep.

But the peace is short lived because just as you begin to dream again, you feel Jimin pull out of you and shift away, attempting to be as stealthy as possible as he slips from bed. He winces when you turn to your other side to face him, sleepy eyes watching as he pulls on his underwear again. You are unable to return the sweet smile he offers you, already missing the way his skin felt against yours.

“Will you not stay to cuddle me?” You ask quietly, unable to understand why he must leave so soon. The smile on his face turns sad, eyes flickering to the door as several consecutive knocks sing on the wood.

“I have many duties to fulfill today, my love.”

‘And no time for me...’ You think with a poorly concealed frown, burrowing deeper into the bedspread when he opens the door for your servants, who get to work on preparing him for the day immediately. Deep down you know you likely will not interact with him until nightfall as he scrambles around the castle and kingdom serving his duties, but you try not to feel the distasteful irritation in your chest and send him off with a kiss when he makes his exit. Sometimes, though, you cannot help but think he was more eager to be with you when he was merely a soldier.

Jimin sits at a round table meeting with his advisors to discuss the affairs of the kingdom, in which there is not much to report. This is a mandatory meeting they must have weekly and they rarely last long. Most of the time, the conversations divulge into unrelated, off topic subjects just to pass the time, and Jimin has no problem with this on most days. He has a good relationship with his advisors and there is almost never any need for him to use his status as King during their discussions. Today, however, his fuse is a little short. It may be because of the all too frequent restless nights he has been experiencing, or from the lack of quality time he has spent with you, but he is far more irritable than usual. All he can think about is how disappointed you looked when he left and how much he’d rather be cuddled up back in bed with you instead of sitting in front of this counsel.  

“Do not worry, the Queen has already taken care of it.” Someone says, he does not know who said it because he is barely paying attention.

“Pardon my coarseness, Your Highness, but it is my understanding that Her Majesty has not yet conceived.” The man presents this in a questioning manner, but Jimin can hear the underlying condescension.

“You are correct.” He replies in a low voice.

“It has been 9 months since your matrimony. She should bear your heirs with haste.” The room swells with voices as his advisors begin to talk about you, each taking their turn to put in their opinions and criticism. He can hardly believe what he is hearing. They speak as though it is your fault that you are not pregnant, as if you are being defiant by not bearing him children, like it is a choice that you have made consciously. Anger bubbles in his chest, blood boiling as they continue ranting about you right in front of him as though they were not saying terrible things about his wife. He stands abruptly upon hearing someone tell a story about how his wife refused to birth him any more children because he “was acting like one” himself. Jimin interrupts just as the man is about to make a comment about stubborn wives, his voice billowing from his throat like heavy plumes of smoke that quickly engulf the room.

“How dare you speak of my wife— your Queen— in such a disrespectful manner! Do you accuse her of treachery against me? Against this nation? You have the gall to insult her efforts on something she cannot control, to doubt her intentions and loyalty to this kingdom and her own family? I should have you all removed from this castle permanently for suggesting such a thing, what do you have to say about that?!” He looks around the silent room at each of their faces, all of them looking utterly shocked by his outburst. Jimin has never needed to assert his authority over them like this, but they have gone too far today. Though he is the youngest in the room, he is easily the most intimidating when angry, regardless of if he were the King or not. Drawing in a deep breath, he tries to calm himself, running a hand through his hair as he takes his seat once more. “It is my fault anyway, not hers. It is my duty as well.”

It is quiet for a long while, the men around the table hesitate to speak again until one man builds up the courage to break the stillness.

“Do not despair, Your Highness, you are both still young, there is plenty of time to have children.” He reassures, followed by similar comforting phrases from the others. Jimin does not respond as he stares out of the window, a solemn look overtaking his face in place of the relaxed and neutral expression he normally wears. He wonders if you face this criticism regularly wherever you go, if people who are supposed to be your supporters are slowly losing hope in you. You already beat yourself up about not being pregnant, he fears what would happen if those thoughts were validated by others. Something must be done about this immediately.

It is silent for another long pause. “You are all dismissed.” He says with a flick of his hand.

*** *** ***

Your servants follow you around quite stubbornly, attempting (and failing) to be as unnoticeable as possible, but their presence is the only thing you can focus on. If you sigh too heavily they all come scurrying over, asking what was the matter, offering to take care of whatever task you had set out to complete. Yes, it was your mother’s dying wish for you to accept your loyal attendants, and it was your father’s order for them to look after you, but you cannot help but feel that this treatment is a bit excessive. It is almost laughable when you reflect on it: how just a year prior you were known largely for your independence, and now you could hardly find a moment to yourself. The only times you can get away with having minimal supervision is when you go out into town, where you may request only one or two guards or servants to accompany you.

Since becoming the official Queen of this nation, you have taken it upon yourself to care for the nuances of your society, to help individuals and keep a close relationship with the people. Jimin was focused on many of the larger issues that affected groups of citizens, like rebuilding one of the marketplaces that suffered damages in a fire last week, as well as handling international business with neighboring kingdoms. Naturally, everyone took a great liking to him and his policies and the people offered him immense support, but your job as Queen was to support the people. So, every week you go into town and buy a book from a novice writer, read it, then publish an unofficial review for the stories you enjoy. Not only does this boost the writer’s credibility, popularity, and sales, it also allows you to communicate with your people. Your presence in town never goes unnoticed, and often times people give you great recommendations on stories you should interest yourself with. It is the highlight of your week since all you can do is read in the quiet moments within the castle.

It is now early spring, trees budding with sweet smelling blossoms and the beginnings of greenery, displaying their proud potency in brilliant hues that bleach you into the gray of a dead willow. Still, your spirits are beginning to lift the farther you distance yourself from the castle. Walking through town, you breathe in all of the scents around you. Street vendors sell an array of foods that you do not see within the castle often and your mouth waters as you step up to one, picking out a pastry covered in sugar, something that you can easily pull apart with your fingers without the need of utensils. Before you can lift it to your mouth, the guard beside you stops you, plucking a small piece for himself to taste for poison. As a royal, you always thought this job was unnecessary and ridiculous before, but after the catastrophe at your wedding, you now understand it’s significance. That does not stop you from pouting, however, as you are forced to wait at least 5 minutes before the stiff guard allows you to dig into your snack.

You continue through the market, admiring crafts from artisans with masterful handiwork and struggle to keep your hand out of your purse whenever something catches your eye. This market is not the closest to the palace, in fact, it is quite far from it, but you have found that the most valuable work comes from the honest workers that live in smaller homes and lead honest lives, not from the traders and merchants who buy their goods from others and claim them as their own in the wealthy districts. The people who live on the outskirts work harder, and they are the ones you need to support the most.

“This would look beautiful hanging from the palace walls, don’t you think?” You turn toward Lilian as she browses the collection of jewelry that sits beside the tapestry you are holding, her eyes inspecting it briefly.

“I think it would look lovely in one of the sitting rooms.” She grins. Lilian always accompanies you on these types of trips. You value her opinion and reason and sympathize with her lack of outside interaction. Both of you are in the palace at almost all times and you are sure you both would go crazy if not for these couple hours outside those claustrophobic walls.

“I think so, too!” You agree, turning to the guard who continues to survey the area. “What do you think, Kyungsoo?”

He looks at it for a while, then at the others around it, finally bringing his eyes back to yours. “Whatever you desire, Your Majesty. My opinion is insignificant.” His answer causes your face to fall, rolling your eyes at him because he always says that. This is another reason why you bring Lilian along.

Sauntering into your favorite bookstore, you cheerfully greet the clerk and begin browsing for newly released books. Not long after, two women approach you, one of which you recognize to be the bookkeeper’s daughter and a new friend of yours. She always comes to talk to you about the store’s newest additions, and it gives others around her the confidence to speak to you as well. Today she is with a slightly older woman who she introduces as a rising author.

“I believe I have read one of your books before; remind me, which ones have you written?” You prompt, making the woman blush and brighten.

“Snowflower is my most popular work. It is all thanks to your review that I was finally able to get noticed in the writing community!” She beams, sparking conversation with you and Lilian about the book that the two of you enjoyed so much. It must be more than 15 minutes later that you finally decide on what to purchase, you have been listening closely to all that the ladies have to say about each author and the summaries of each story. There were multiple that piqued your interest and you could not decide so you ended up with 3 books in hand as your friend walked you to the register. One of them happens to be a story following the trials and struggles of a mother who becomes pregnant during a war. Of course you hadn’t picked this book for its theme of motherhood. It promised to be a good read— though you had overlooked it many times before today— and you certainly did not choose it because it was the closest thing to a lesson on pregnancy you could get without purchasing the entire series of “Preparing for Parenthood”, perched on a shelf that you found yourself eying the majority of your stay in the store.

Your friend talks mindlessly as she rings you up for your books, inspecting your odd selection. “So tell me, Your Majesty, are you with ch- ow!” The woman beside her pinches her arm just out of your sight, offering up a tight lipped smile when she turns to pout at her. A short flash of realization crosses her face before she returns her attention to you.

“Am I with whom?” You ask, confused.

“Are you with t-the children! Have you- have you come to see the preschoolers perform today?” She covers quickly with a nervous smile. Lilian glares at her when you are facing the other way.

“Oh! I recall hearing that they will be performing a play today, I nearly forgot!” The people around you sigh in relief at your obliviousness, resuming conversation as though nothing had happened. They give you instructions to the school and you rush there, Lilian carrying your books and Kyungsoo leading the way.

When you arrive, there are only parents and family members filling the auditorium, signifying that the play has not yet started. They chat amongst themselves in a rumble of murmurs, but the noise quiets quickly once you are noticed by a teacher that stands near the stage area.

“Her Majesty!” She gasps. “Welcome, welcome!” She practically runs to you, approaching clumsily while Kyungsoo moves to shield you with his body, stopping the woman before she can get too close. You gently move him aside to allow the woman to see and speak directly to you. “I had no idea that the Queen would be visiting today! To what do I owe you the pleasure?”

“I have come to see the children perform. It is imperative of me as Queen to support our kingdom’s youth.” You smile, noticing a weird look that crosses her face for a moment before smoothing out. Lilian has a tight smile spread across her lips just out of your peripheral.

“Of course! Well, you are just in time, the show is about to begin.” She tries to clear the front row of parents for you, but you insist that the parents of the children should get the best seats, settling for the chairs she pulls up for you at the sides of the small theater.

The moment the toddlers waddle onto stage in their costumes, your heart liquifies. They are the cutest things you have ever seen. Some of them look confused, some are pouting, but most of them are excitedly waving at their parents in the crowd, nearly tripping over each other from not looking at what’s happening in front of them. Even more heartwarming is the reactions of the parents, each and every one of them sitting up straighter and beaming with joy at the sight of their offspring, even the parents who had previously looked bored. Your attention is split between what is happening onstage and in the crowd throughout the entire play, watching the silent interactions between child and parent. You could always tell which tot belonged to which parent because of their reactions. Every child had their own lines, and whenever one stepped up to speak, the parents would lean in closer to the stage or straighten up to send a thumbs up to the wide eyes that stare back at them.

At some point, you had begun to imagine what it would be like if your own child were up there. You scan the faces of the toddlers, determining that a shy little girl bears the closest resemblance to your future baby, and you watch her the entire rest of the play. Her finger reaches into her nose several times during the performance, something your toddler would be forced to learn not to do, and she appears to be quite hesitant to say her lines. You and Jimin would act just as her parents are now, waving at her and mouthing words of encouragement when it seems like she will not speak at all, smiling proudly after she executes her parts flawlessly. Jimin would probably hold your hand as you watch her and you would be able to feel the sweat on his palms from how much he would worry for her, whispering to you how he hopes she will not cry because of how shy and quiet she tends to be. And you would whisper back that your baby is talented and will do great because she is very mature for her age, being a Princess and all.

Your eyes do not leave the girl for a minute and you are so caught up in your fantasy that you almost miss when everyone stands to clap at the end of the show. You rise slowly and offer your applause, cheeks hurting from smiling too much, but you cannot ignore the bittersweet feeling in your chest that comes when all of the children disperse and run into the arms of their waiting parents. And you are forced to remember your situation. The teacher begs you to make closing remarks and you take your place on the empty stage to address your people. Unable to focus properly, you barely know what you are saying; you thank the students and teachers for a great show, repeat a total of 4 times how adorable the children were, speak at length about how much you enjoyed everything, and once you notice that you’re rambling, you conclude quickly and move from the spotlight awkwardly. The families don’t seem to notice as they return their attention to gushing over their babies.

Just as you are about to make your exit, someone runs up to you and stops at your feet, her hair barely reaching the bottoms of your knees as she looks up at you. It is the girl you had been watching, and her arms reach up to be held once you make eye contact with her. At the approval of her parents, you lift her light body and rest her on your hip, the position comfortable and natural despite you having held a child only a few times in your life. You congratulate her and she smiles at you, turning to look at her parents as you try not to marvel at how perfectly innocent and sweet her face is.

“Your Majesty,” Her mother greets with a bow. “I was very surprised to see you here today. I had heard that you often come to these parts of town, but I would have never expected you to grace us with your presence on an occasion like this.” She is very polite, noting how the little girl has taken a liking to you already.

“I believe it is important to keep in touch with my people, and what better way is there to connect with you all than to attend a performance of my kingdom’s children?” You grin.

“I heard rumors that lately you had been feeling quite under the weather.” At this you quirk an eyebrow. She continues. “Many had assumed you were pregnant, so word spread that the King would not allow you out of the palace and that is why you had been absent for the past few weeks.” As if Jimin could tell you what to do. Yes, it is true that you had not gone outside of the palace in about 3 weeks, but that was of your own accord.

Jimin’s mother had taken a short vacation to your home upon your request after you detailed to her your troubles with conceiving in a lengthy letter, and she spent those three weeks improving your physical health with things like yoga and kegal exercises, as well as offering you very blunt and personal advice that you were almost too embarrassed to put into practice. Jimin warned you of how she was unafraid to talk about intimate topics, recalling a specific conversation she had with him in his teenage years, but you were still unprepared for the sheer amount of information she gave you during that time. You simply did not have time to go on your weekly shopping trips.

“That is... not the case.” You reply, adjusting the girl on your hip.

“Oh, then you are not pregnant?” The woman seems surprised and Lilian seems almost outraged, cutting in when you open and close your mouth with no other response.

“We have not been to this part of your town yet, are there any places you suggest we visit?” Lilian’s voice sounds through her teeth, swiftly changing the subject. You didn’t think you would have trouble talking about this, but here you stand, blinking away tears at her question. The girl’s mother seems to realize her mistake when she takes in your watery eyes that you try to hide with a fake smile. You let Lilian continue her conversation as you wander away a few steps, pretending to inspect your surroundings as you gather yourself, until a nearby newspaper catches your eye. On the cover are the words “KING’S NEW ORDERS! PROTECT THE QUEEN” and your heart jumps at the suddenness. You bend carefully to turn the page and read the article, a mix of emotions rushing through your body that almost makes you lose grip on the child in your arms when you understand their significance. You quickly return her to her parents, excusing yourself from them on the pretense that you had to be back at the palace for important business, and you instruct Kyungsoo to guide you back to the carriage to head home.

Upon entering your bedroom, Jimin finds a note on the bed in your writing, reading it with curiosity. It leads him to a familiar place and he hurries there with mild concern, mind rushing with thoughts of what your note could have meant.

Curled up in your favorite chair, he finds you reclining with a new book in hand as you look through the window of your Secret Library. Your servants know nothing of this place, you and Jimin have made certain that it’s location remains hidden, so this is the only place you can truly be alone. To his knowledge, you only come here when something is troubling you or when you need to think, and his mind jumps to all of the worst case scenarios of what could have happened.

“My love, you wished to speak with me?” He asks, approaching urgently as according to your urgent letter. But you remain relaxed and unresponsive as you continue to flip through the pages of your novel. He looks down to inspect your choice reading, taking note that it speaks of a woman who, in this current scene, is just learning that she is pregnant. You take your time reading it, only turning to him after the chapter is finished. When you turn to him your eyes are blank and unreadable.

“Why have you placed a censorship on our people, My King?” You ask suddenly, and it takes him aback.

“A c-censorship?” He stutters out.

“Yes, you recently placed a censorship on the people of this kingdom, have you not?” You look him in the eyes and find that he can barely hold eye contact, his entire body tense. It is difficult for him to respond, especially since you were not supposed to know about this, at least not this soon.

“It is not a censorship.” He evades.

“Really? So you have not ordered our people to be silent about anything pertaining to pregnancy and children around me?” He fidgets under your piercing tongue, unsure of how to respond. “That sounds quite close to censorship to me.”

“It is only to protect you, My Queen,” He relents, stepping closer to you as you snap your book closed. “People can be very insensitive and I did not want you to be hurt by their words.”

“Hurt by their words? What words would they have said to me? I am not a child, Jimin, you need not protect me from words!” Your volume rises along with the redness of your face. “Are the people criticizing me in some way? What have they said? What have you heard to make you so wary of words?”

“Their words hurt me, (Y/n).” He says quietly as he lowers himself to his knees and takes hold of your hands when he sees the worry in your eyes. “What I heard hurt me, and I could not bear the thought that you may hear such things too. I did not do this because I think you are not strong enough to endure it, I did it because you do not deserve to hear such negativity.”

“Even so, how dare you make such a rash decision without consulting me.” You remove your hands from his and he does not reach for them again. “You saw me directly after your council meeting last week and mentioned not a word of this to me. If you had asked, I would have told you that none of this is necessary, that I can handle whatever my people have to say about me because I am the Queen!” Your voice cracks annoyingly as you fight back hot tears. “I should be able to answer them when they ask me questions. And maybe I should hear what they say about me. Because they are correct, I am not pregnant and I do not know if I can ever become pregnant and maybe they should be worried. My sensitivity should not warrant their silence.”

“You are not sensitive, my love, you have every right to feel the way that you do.” You ignore him.

“But what troubles me the most is how you so easily excluded me. You acted without my consent and planned to keep this from me indefinitely— you even made sure Lilian was the first to know so that she could keep watch over me today! What happened to our communication, Jimin? We should be able to talk to each other about anything and everything, but instead you felt the need to keep something so important a secret from me. You could have simply talked to me and told me how you feel. It feels as though we have not spoken in days, it is almost like you aren’t trying anymore. It feels like you have given up.”

The fire in your tone dies down until all that is left is pain, and Jimin realizes that it is he who has hurt you the most.

Lilian told him about where you went today and how you acted. She told him of the lost and pained look in your eyes as you watched the children, even though you were smiling. Most importantly, she relayed your exact reaction when that woman asked if you were pregnant. It was just as he had feared. Putting these pieces of information together with the book you had been reading, Jimin knows that this argument is about more than what you’d like him to believe.

“This is no longer about the censorship, is it?” He asks cautiously, guilt leaking onto his features. You appear shocked at first, not having realized your own subliminal shift from the topic, but then your face twists with emotion and you bite your lip and turn your head from him in an effort to hold yourself together. You are tired of crying in front of him.

“You-“ Sniffling, you try to control the shakiness of your voice. “You do not talk to me anymore. I never know how you are feeling these days because you have been avoiding me.”

“I do not try to avoid you, my love.” He frowns, moving his hand to rest on your knee.

“It feels like you are. You do not come to my health examinations anymore, you can never seem to make time for them.” He opens his mouth to speak, but you don’t let him. “I am always forced to go through them alone and I sit there the entire time wishing that you were there to hold me or reassure me, but I’m always alone. And it may be easier for you to hear the bad news from my mouth, but it hurts me more every time I am forced to tell you that I have failed once again. And we haven’t tried in a long while, I am beginning to fear that you no longer want to touch me.” Your eyes convey a deeper pain than your words can communicate, and the earnestness in them when you look at him breaks his heart. He didn’t mean to make you feel this way, it‘s the last thing he would want.

“I still very much want you, My Queen, I always will. I have been hesitant to initiate anything with you as of late because you seemed so disheartened and dejected and I did not want to further upset you with inappropriate timing. I have also been struggling to keep my optimism, forgive me for my misjudgment.”

“That is another problem,” You sigh, knitting your eyebrows. “I have no idea what you are thinking or feeling. You always comfort me and tell me that I can be open with my emotions with you, yet you do not listen to your own advice and tend to lock up around me. It will not lessen my sadness, but to know that you are just as affected by this as I am and that I am not overreacting would give me the tiniest bit of comfort. But when you force yourself to appear unaffected, it feels as though I am the only one who cares.”

“But I am the King,” Jimin starts, conflicted. “I cannot afford to show weakness or lament in our misfortunes. I must be strong for the people.”

“Strength is not the only trait of value!” You hiss, irritated that he has this perception that is so inaccurate. “Emotion does not always entail vulnerability and the people will see that. They adore how much you care about them, how you grieve with them when you learn of their losses, so why would it be inappropriate for you to care about me? Do not forget that you are also my husband. That is what you signed up for on our wedding day; you married me and the kingdom followed. Why is it that I am never your priority?!”

Sadness transforming into boiling rage, you stand and push past him toward the exit. This is your first real argument with him and it seems that everything that has been bothering you for the past few months is now exploding out of your mouth. You did not mean for your words to be so harsh, yet you could not control them and figured that you should let everything out while you had the chance. Much of your frustration is about your own incompetence, but you redirect it toward him because you cannot handle anymore mental self-abuse. A tiny part of you wants him to yell back at you and affirm everything you already thought about the direction of your relationship just so you could be right about something for once. Most of you, however, wants him to run after you, take you into his arms, look you in the eye and dispel all of your worries by pouring out his heart to you.

And that is exactly what he does.

“My love, do not run away.” He says gently, grabbing your hand before you can even make it 3 steps past him. He moves to the front of you, taking your face in his palms so he can stare into your eyes, hoping they can fill in the blanks between his words. “You are always my priority and you always will be. I-“ He sighs, looking away for a second before returning to you. “I do not always make the best choices, and for that I apologize. Being your husband and a King is far different than being a military general, and it is taking longer to adjust than I anticipated. I love you so much, to the point where I am afraid of making mistakes and losing your heart somehow, so I try too hard to be perfect. I take care of your kingdom because it was yours before it was mine and I know how dearly you hold it’s people. I try to be as tough as possible for you because I thought you would expect it of me when you were feeling weak.” His hands fall to your shoulders. “As a General, I learned that the only way to gain respect and love was to work hard and solve all issues, but it appears that I will need a different mindset in this situation. Because it seems I have become too consumed with work and too busy to show my love for you, and I know I will need to change that if I want to be a good father to our children.”

“You do not need to change at all, Jimin. Who you are trying so hard to be is not the same man you were when I met you. Yes, you were strong in front of others, but you never closed yourself to me. I do not want you to change or pretend to be tough, I want you to be you, because that is who I married.” This causes him to think back to how he has behaved in recent months. Maybe he was avoiding your appointments purposely so he wouldn’t have the chance to break down in front of the doctor or Lilian. And maybe he had been ignoring you so he wouldn’t have to face his own pain that you reflected. He’s been treating you unfairly in an effort to play a role that doesn’t exist, and he welcomes the guilt that slaps him in the face at the realization. He hates that he ended up like this even after all that you went through in the aftermath of your wedding. It is like he had forgotten all that he promised you.

“I apologize for everything, My Queen. I will remove the censorship immediately.” His head bows with heaviness. “I do still want a family with you, but maybe we should take a break from trying, just for a little while. Maybe this building friction between us and the stress it caused has been affecting our fertility. Maybe we are trying too hard and should take your advice to just be ourselves. A baby should be made from love, not by expectation. I do not want-“ He thinks about his next sentence carefully. “I want to improve our relationship first, before our attention is shifted to other matters. We are young and have not yet been married a year, my love, we will have plenty of time to conceive. Let me make up for the neglect you have suffered these past months. Let us take it one day at a time.”

He’s right, your relationship has been strained, and it is not only from the fact that you are not pregnant. The discord between you two has taken a toll on your body: you are constantly exhausted, your head pounds with headaches most days, and the loneliness has changed your positive attitude into one of sulking and disdain. It has changed you. So how could you think of bringing a child into this world when you are at this level of dysfunction? Things needed to be resolved first, and here he is, willing to work everything out with you after accepting his faults. You couldn’t possibly reject him.

It’s been nearly a month since your argument, and things have taken a turn for the better. You helped Jimin realize something he didn’t quite understand before: that as King, anything he says goes, so he has been taking frequent days off to spend time with you. He’s taken you on many dates around the kingdom, showing you his favorite places to go when he was a child, exploring different towns you hadn’t gotten a chance to see yet, he even accompanied you on your shopping day to meet some of the friends you’d made. Being able to spend time with him like this reminds you of what it felt like in the beginning of your relationship. The novelty of seeing him and the excitement you’d feel in the pit of your stomach. Except this excitement is now from your curiosity of what activities you’ll do with him that day and not from the thrill of possibly being caught together by servants.

You’ve kept things fairly innocent these past few weeks, focusing on rebuilding your emotional connection instead of being physical. You’d lost a lot of weight during the months you were at odds with Jimin, but you’re happy to say that you’re gaining it back now that you’re paying more attention to your health and happiness and not the crazy diets and detoxes that people recommended to you to help with conception. What’s more, you’ve been keeping busy by accompanying Jimin on his political duties instead of remaining put away in the palace. He didn’t want to involve you in political affairs to keep your stress levels low, but you remind him that you’ve been involved in things like that since you where a young princess, so this is the norm. So now you happily travel with him out of the kingdom to attend meetings with neighboring rulers and assure them of your health.

This is the first trip you’ve taken, and it feels absolutely liberating. Seokjin insisted that you and your husband stay in his family’s vacation home located in the area— one of many acquired throughout his travels as a collector and salesman— and it is arguably nicer than the one offered by the royals of this kingdom. Perhaps not as luxurious (though very close to it) but certainly more private. You’d take any opportunity to escape any hovering servants. Your eyes sparkle as you walk through the doors, taking in the modern furniture, high ceilings, and breathtaking view of the green valley and hills surrounding you. The altitude is quite a bit higher than you’re used to, the kingdom poised along a mountainside and sourcing its water from the river that flows through the valley below.

You blame this altitude for the sick feeling in your stomach and the lightness of your head, trying your hardest to keep your etiquette and not plop face first onto the huge mattress. You sit gingerly on the edge, aided by Jimin, who kept hold of your arm ever since he saw you swaying when you stepped out of the carriage. He fusses over you, letting out a disgruntled grumble when you remind him that you saw the doctor before your departure and she found no troubling conditions within you— not even pregnancy, which you were disappointed to hear, but not surprised. The symptoms come and go and you assure him that all you need is some rest and you’ll be back on your feet, and he leaves you under the watch of Lilian and Kyungsoo (who accompany you everywhere) while he travels to the castle to greet the King and assure him of your safe arrival. You nap while he’s away and awake just in time for dinner, feeling refreshed and symptom free, much to his relief.

Being away from the palace and kingdom is sure to do wonders for your physical and mental health. Just being here with the people you love is a breath of fresh air, and you can’t wipe the smile off your face. Seated at the table accompanied by Jimin, Lilian, and Kyungsoo, you feel this is the closest thing you’ll have to a family dinner for a long while. As your servant, Lilian never eats with you at the same time, let alone at the same table, but you begged her to join you and fill the evening air with casual chatter. Kyungsoo is your favorite guard and you’ve always wanted to get to know him, but he remains relatively quiet throughout the meal and never lets his guard down, taking the farthest seat from his monarchs to silently observe. Typical. With your energy levels still quite low, Jimin and Lilian do their best to raise your spirits by showing off their goofy sides, telling stories and making you laugh almost nonstop. But just seeing them bond so well is enough to make your heart swell. You wonder if Jimin will have this type of relationship with your children, one where they can joke freely and build trust with each other without being hindered by the forced power dynamic. You hope their relationship will be better than the somewhat estranged one you have with your father.

“Are you comfortable, my love?” Jimin asks as you settle in for bed. This mattress seems to be made from the clouds of the heavens, you’ve never felt relaxation like this. You’ll have to purchase one for your own bedroom.

“Yes, My King.” You return, grinning at the way his cheeks lift. He climbs in behind you after blowing out the lanterns, the scent of smoke wafting gently through the room.

“How are you feeling? Better?” He sounds tired and you have no desire to keep him awake with your troubles, so you nod.

“Yes, after my nap and dinner, I feel just fine.” You don’t mention your growing headache because you’re certain a good night’s sleep will resolve it. You’re feeling uncharacteristically tired, exhausted even, and it’s most likely from the long journey here. Hopefully, you’ll wake up refreshed and energized in the morning.

“Alright. Let me know if you need anything tonight.” He whispers, already starting to drift off.

“I won’t trouble you.” You assure him, sinking into slumber.

“Are you sure you are well enough to go out today?” Lilian sifts through your clothing, trying to decide what to dress you in for today’s events, accounting for the warm mid-spring weather. She is alone in the bedroom with you, Jimin having stepped out to give you privacy while getting ready.

“Yes, I am feeling much better.” This isn’t a lie. Although you felt extremely sluggish upon first waking up, you now feel great. Jimin had asked you about a thousand questions before leaving bed this morning and at breakfast, and you dispelled each one of his worries with confidence.

“I am glad to hear that, but please do pay attention to your condition, Your Highness.” She says this as she holds up a pristine gown for your approval, handing it to you when you nod both at her words and fashion choice.

She doesn’t need to vocalize what’s on her mind, you know what she’s thinking, and frankly, you’ve been having the same thoughts. But your doctor was very clear that you are not pregnant when you saw her before the trip. Also, you bleed 2 weeks ago, and though it was short-lived, it was accompanied by cramps and headaches, dutifully reminding you of your empty womb. So you ignore Lilian’s concerns and move about your day like normal, smothering the tiny bud of hope that tries to bloom in your chest.

“Are you excited for today’s meeting?” Moving away from the topic, she smiles at you through the mirror at the way your face lights up, beginning her work on your hair.

“This is the most excited I have felt in a long while! It will be my first diplomatic duty as Queen.” Finally, you feel useful.

“Would you like me to accompany you?” What she means is ‘would you like me to keep an eye on you to make sure you are feeling okay/ nothing bad happens’ but you pretend not to notice.

“No, Lilian, I want you to treat this as a vacation of sorts. You work so hard my humble, loyal friend. Go and explore the towns, have fun while we’re away from the kingdom.”

“I do not want a vacation, I want to make sure you are alright.” She responds quietly, blushing. You hum.

“Respectfully, I do not need to be looked after like a child.” You chuckle. “I can do well on my own. Besides, Jimin and Kyungsoo will be there if anything happens.”

“Then I will take my leave tomorrow after I make sure you are alright today.” She says stubbornly, not meeting your eyes in the mirror. “I cannot relax in good conscience without being assured of your safety.” Nodding, you accept her terms with a smirk.

“Always a pleasure to see you, Queen (Y/n).” King Jackson smiles at you, bowing his head in greeting. You grin widely as you sit across from him and his wife at the large conference table, Jimin placed closely at your side.

“You as well, Jackson.” Last you saw him, he was a prince. In fact, he submitted the first marriage proposal you’d ever received, asking your father for your hand in marriage as soon as he heard you were of age. He is a little less than 4 years older than you, handsome, bubbly personality, likable and charming on all fronts, and you had no qualms with marrying him, but you also had no desire to leave your kingdom to rule another. As King, he would have you move into his castle and be at his service where you would likely not hold any power or say in most matters involving the people, something that deeply displeased you, so you turned him down. Now he has a wife and several small children, as well as the throne and an entire kingdom to lead. And as of your coronation, he is your kingdom’s closest ally.

“No need to be so formal, Queen.” He jokes, immediately setting a relaxed atmosphere. You are meeting to discuss and update the terms of a treaty between your allied nations, one that your fathers had written and agreed upon many years ago, but legally needs to be reviewed thanks to the recent shift in power. Your father is quite close with Jackson’s own, therefore you have a good relationship with the young King from years of getting acquainted during your childhood. Jimin, however, has no such history with the man and seems rather tense around the lighthearted playful. “I was disappointed when you refused by marriage proposal, but it seems that you have chosen a handsome and competent spouse in my place, just as I have.” He grins, winking at his wife, Lena.

“It was never ‘your place’, do not be so big headed,” You roll your eyes but he ignores your quip, eyes trained on Jimin.

“We spoke yesterday evening, but I am intrigued to get to know more of you, King Park. May I call you Jimin?” Jackson barely waits for a reply before continuing. “I must know more of the man whom I am to be allied with, and the man who married the ever-so-independent princess.”

“I must admit, I am curious about you, too. But if my beloved trusts and acknowledges you, then I will do the same.” Reaching under the table, Jimin’s hand finds yours and you smirk, pleased that he won’t let the other King intimidate him.

“Regarding the treaty;” Jackson pulls out a long document, skimming over the lengthy script that you are both irritatingly familiar with. “Will our kingdom’s continue to remain allied during times of war, help financially and provide resources in times of natural disaster, respect the borders set by each nation without the intention of gaining territory, and continue to keep trade borders open?” He reads off the major points of the list, you and Jimin answering with a ‘yes’ to each. “Is there anything else you would like to add?”

“Not that I can think of.” You respond, Jimin saying the same. Feeling satisfied by your responses, Jackson signs his name under the print of your fathers, passing the document to you for your signature. But you slide the paper to your husband, whose name appears in ink now instead of yours. Surprised by this, you can see the unfiltered comment bubbling out from the brazen King’s dome.

“I would not have expected, (Y/n), that you would submit the powers of your status to a man.” It is obvious that he has already assumed that your action means that you no longer hold the highest authority in your own land, but you are both quick to correct him.

“You are mistaken.” Your voices harmonize into one as you say this, Jimin continuing on to explain. “My Queen has not yielded even an inch of power to me. As I am sure you know, she is fully capable of handling affairs such as these, any responsibility she has shifted to me has been due to her own discretion.” Though his tongue is quick, Jimin is sure to keep a light, non-malicious tone so as not to offend your friend. You’d much rather focus on internal public affairs, leaving international and business related issues to your husband. But it seems others have the wrong idea about you.

The man across from you blinks at this, raising his eyebrows, and you know Jimin has just gained a large amount of respect in his eyes. You find it quite flattering to see him so defensive of you and you give an approving squeeze of his hand.

“As expected,” Jackson hums with a grin, receiving the document as Jimin passes it back to him. “Well, it seems that our business here is complete! Shall we have champagne to celebrate this swift agreement?” He doesn’t realize his error until his wife nudges him in the ribs and he looks up to see your faces pulled into wide-eyed frowns. “Ah, yes— my apologies,” He scratches his neck bashfully. “Then, may I interest you in some exercise?” Eyes boring straight into Jimin’s, he asks this as the men share a look.

“Oh, this is so exciting!” Lena beams, nearly bouncing in her seat as you both observe from a bench on the side of the field. Somehow you hadn’t expected this when Jackson offered his proposal. Your husbands are standing in a marked area with protective gear covering their bodies and gleaming swords, preparing for a sparring match in the warm weather. The sun beats down on you as you squint at them, using your hand to shade your eyes before Lilian appears with a parasol to place over your head. “Have you ever seen your husband fight before?” She asks, staring at your side profile.

“Never.” You respond. “This should be interesting.” Admittedly, you tend to shy away from violence, resenting the thought of people battling each other for bloody glory. Though you are in charge of the military, you never ask for too many details, and skillfully avoid any training grounds near the castle. It may be ironic, then, that you married a General who has seen more battles than he’s cared to mention and carries more scars than he’d care to explain. But you must admit that you’re intrigued by the spectacle he’s sure to put on for you, comforted by the fact that this is completely safe.

“Jackson has been training sword for most of his life, but has never seen an actual battle. I wonder how their skills will compare.” Lena states proudly, sipping from the drink one of her servants comes to offer, dismissed when you decline.

“I hear that you were a General, King Park.” Jackson checks the cap at the tip of his sword, nodding to the instructor that stands at his side.

“I’d like to think that I still am one.” Jimin responds as he stretches out his stiff muscles.

“Even after being promoted to Commander in Chief?”

“I’ve done nothing to earn that title but get married.” The man before him hums.

“I assume you are quite skilled with a sword then, have you practiced fencing before?”

“Of course, it is taught as the basics of sword fighting. Though, I would not say I am a master.” Humbly, your husband lowers his head to inspect his blade, shaking his head at Jackson’s outcry.

“Nonsense! Any man who has done battle for his life is surely a master. Though, I do ask that you do not hold back on me here; I certainly will not do the same for you.” A wolfish grin creeps up onto both Kings faces, mirroring each other as they pull down the hoods of their face guards.

“You’ve said nothing of your own skill thus far, I will not make the mistake of underestimating you.” The match starts swiftly after they take position, Jackson lunging forward and barely missing Jimin’s side as he dodges out of the way.

Your mouth falls open as they move, each motion calculated and precise. You know nothing about fencing, but it is clear that they are both highly skilled. You’ve never seen your lover move this way before, so dynamic and captivating as though he were performing a dance. Powerful and graceful in every step taken toward his opponent, wielding his blade as though it were an extension of himself. He is beautiful to watch, your heartbeat speeding up in your chest as you are enraptured by the display. Both King’s are even in size and capability, but you can see the ease of movement Jimin possesses compared to Jackson’s deliberate strokes, almost as if he were teasing him. Lena cheers from beside you, but you can’t make a sound. Seeing him like this— completely in his element and moving so gracefully— has your body heating for another reason unrelated to the unrelenting sun. You’ve married an amazing man.

“You’re quick.”

“That is a great compliment, coming from you,” Jackson grunts, keeping Jimin on the defensive with his bold attacks. “But I can tell you are merely playing with me.”

“Not playing.” Waiting. One thing Jimin is an expert at is waiting. Patience is his strength, in fighting and in his daily life. He was patient when it came to you, taking his time with each step of your relationship until he was entirely sure that you were ready, that you wanted him. He was patient with each of his military promotions, climbing up the ranks with hard work and diligence until he was recognized. And he will continue to be patient with the next stage of his life, trying his best not to lose hope that you will become pregnant one day, so he will deal with the disappointment and trials with you for as long as it takes.

As soon as Jackson falters he takes his shot, attacking with swift consecutive swings until his opponent is pushed far back on his side of the space and leaves an opening, one decisive lunge ending the match. They both pant as Jimin’s sword makes contact with the center of the other King’s chest, the cap pressed into the padding protecting his flesh. There’s silence for a beat before they both drop their guard, retuning to the start position. Jimin turns his head to make sure you were watching, lifting his mask to wink at you and smirking salaciously when you blush.  

“Well done.” Jackson nods. “But I won’t let you get the better of me next time!”

“Your husband is a bit intense, no?” You ask Lena as she giggles, humming in agreement.

“And it seems your husband is a bit competitive.” You also nod, the heat drying your mouth as you watch her sip her drink again. She calls over her servant when she catches your stare and they hand you a glass— Kyungsoo swooping in annoyingly to try it first before you can taste the sweet liquid. “He seems very fit and possesses a beautiful physique, I’m astounded that you have the willpower to leave bed with a man like that, especially as newlyweds.”

You choke on your drink mid-swallow, nearly spitting it out because of her words. Jackson has a notoriously dirty mind, it is no surprise to you that his wife shares that quality— she’d have to, in order to tolerate him. She laughs as Lilian takes the drink from you as you wipe your mouth, turning the comment back on her.

“I could say the same to you, Jackson is just as built.”

“Oh, trust that he kept me in bed for months after our wedding date. It is no coincidence that I have this many children now.” Her eyes shift back to the men on the field, seemingly satisfied with the rosiness of your cheeks. Recovering, you address her once more.

“Speaking of, may I meet them?”

“I’ve known (Y/n) for most of my life,” Jackson speaks up during their final round. “Though I submitted a proposal, she’s grown to be like a sister to me over the years.”

“Is that so?” Jimin grunts, their swords clashing loudly.

“I was skeptical of what kind of man she had chosen when word spread of your betrothal. Wondered if you would be able to protect her as she tends to venture out and do things on her own; sometimes-” He jumps back as Jimin closes in. “-befriending the wrong people. I worried when I heard of the catastrophe at your wedding ceremony.” The cap of Jimin’s sword touches to his opponent’s chest once again, ending the sparring match. They both remove their helmets and masks, breathing heavily as they look at each other. “I truly empathize with what you were forced to experience. I could not imagine being in that situation with my wife.” Both men turn to look at you and Lena, their 4 children surrounding you as you hold the youngest in your lap. It is a sight that simultaneously melts and breaks your husband’s heart. “Nonetheless, after meeting you, I am confident that she is in good hands. I like you a lot, Jimin, and though my approval may mean nothing, I think you are an excellent match for her.”

You look up to see them shaking hands, both of them walking over to you with content looks on their faces. The child in your lap looks up as his father approaches, making grabby hands at your friend until he reaches down and lifts him from you. You watch with starry eyes as Jackson props the child up on his hip, kissing over his chubby cheeks and forehead, but then your attention is pulled away when Jimin stops to stand in front of you.

“Did you win?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, My Queen,” He bows dutifully, running a hand through his sweaty hair. It should be offensive how sexy he looks right now, standing in the sun with his wet hair, skin shining with hard work and eyes landing lazily on your figure with a lazy smirk. Your heart jumps and you have to look away before your mind slips even further away. “Do I get a victory kiss?” He bends down toward you, puckering his lips, and you push lightly at his chest with a laugh.

“But you’re all sweaty!” Your nose wrinkles at him but your eyes still lock onto his lips, even as you continue to swat at him.

“No kiss for your King?” Jackson quips, turning to his own wife who is already shaking her head in disgust. “Lena~ Don’t I get a reassurance kiss after my defeat?” The same look Jimin has on his face is contagious to the other King, who grins at Lena as she shields her face with another one of their giggling children, peeking out from over her shoulder. Both men approach with puckered lips, causing their Queens to squeal at their playfulness— you even hop up from the bench to avoid him, taunting him as Jimin chases you around the field. It’s rather immature, but you feel no need to pretend here or uphold appearances in front of your hosts. Lilian and Kyungsoo look on fondly, never having seen you so carefree.

“You never minded my sweat before, my love.” Jimin whispers to you when you finally allow him to give you a peck on the lips, his arms wrapped loosely around your waist. You don’t respond, rolling your eyes at him with a barely hidden smile.

“You seem to be getting along nicely with Jackson.” You comment as you rummage through your luggage, searching for one specific item. Jimin replies from behind the partition of the bathroom, bathing away the grime of the day in preparation for the night. You had both sent Lilian away when she offered to help and she took off to explore the nighttime activities of the kingdom, one of Jackson’s male servants offering to be her guide. You’ll be sure to ask her for details in the morning.

“Yes, he is quite an interesting character. He gave me his official approval to marry you, which I suppose I am grateful for.” Hearing the smile in his voice, you giggle, silencing the gasp that leaves your chest when you pull out the delicate lace garments, your heart rate speeding up. You aren’t sure why you feel so anxious about this. It’s not like you to get nervous about being intimate with Jimin, but you’ve never done anything like this before. Maybe it’s because it’s been a while since you last had him, the recent abstinence keeping your body on edge. Or maybe you are worried about what he will say when he sees you. Embarrassment colors your face as you quickly slip on the set, covering yourself with a robe when you are finished.

“He gave you his blessing to marry me?” You chuckle.

Stepping onto the tile of the partitioned washroom, you stand before the full length mirror to inspect yourself before tying it closed. The robe covers you from Jimin’s viewpoint behind you as he finishes washing up, and you try to appear productive as you move to moisturize yourself. When he is finished, your husband approaches from behind, a towel hung low on his waist as he comes to wrap his arms around your midsection. You can feel his sturdy body pressing into you as he pulls you closer, his eyes staring into yours through the glass when he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“His ego hasn’t shrunk an inch since I last saw him.” You sigh, letting your eyes flutter shut as the two of you sway gently together.

“Well, he is a King.” Jimin reasons in a whisper.

“But so are you.” His arms loosen around you when he feels you start to turn, both of your eyes open now as you peer up at him with glittering eyes, gingerly locking your fingers behind his neck. Your heart kicks up as you watch the easy grin on his lips, the absolute and unwavering adoration he holds for you so evident in his gaze. It reminds you of earlier times, his expression the exact same as when he first confessed that he was in love with you and you reciprocated, kissing him so certainly. Now, you kiss him with practiced ease and press ever closer into his warm body. Jimin’s tongue dances with yours, both of you getting lost in the moment until you are forced to pull away for air. “You were amazing today, General Park.”

The use of his former title makes his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. It isn’t like he doesn’t like the name, it is simply that he never expected to hear it come from you again.

“I did not realize that you were so agile and powerful, I was very impressed with what I saw.” One of your fingers trails down his chest, playing in the dip of his v-line before coyly tracing back upwards with each slow word you speak. “That is not to say that I was unaware of your capabilities, you have found great success in protecting me and my kingdom, but watching you was eye opening... and quite arousing.” His breath hitches in a way that gives you more confidence, courage swelling in your chest that helps you ignore the redness of your cheeks.

“Is that so?” Jimin swallows, curiosity lighting his gaze.

You hum in affirmation. “You must work extremely hard to become that skilled, so I thought it appropriate to give you a gift to show my appreciation for all that you do.” Taking a step back, you play with the ribbon of your robe, amused by the sudden change in Jimin’s expression. He watches you like a predator stalking it’s pray, detailing every movement of your nimble fingers with a heaving chest as you move at a snail’s pace to untie your robe. You decide to tease further once the ribbon is finally untied, only revealing the tops of your shoulders from the silk, holding yourself in modesty until it looks like he’s going to go insane before you open the from to reveal yourself.

Jimin feels like he could faint from what he sees when the robe drops. You are decorated in a lacy white lingerie set that is quite transparent, your nipples visible through the designs of the fabric. The bra of the set extends downwards under your cleavage and he feels his hands lifting to rest on your ribs to touch the material, following it delicately until he cups your breasts with his palms. Maybe it is due to the design of this expensive undergarment, but you fill out the bra much more than either of you would have expected, your breasts round and pushing at it in all the right spots. This is the lingerie set that Jin had hidden behind your commissioned painting as part of your wedding gift, and Jimin had completely forgotten that it was in your possession. He chooses not to question how Seokjin knows your body measurements in order to purchase the present. Eyes trailing down, Jimin takes in the equally scandalous panties that adorn your hips, all parts solid white except for the crotch that remains lacy and see-through giving him a view that makes his mouth water.

You look absolutely stunning, and he tells you in as many words as possible.

“Your gift is not yet complete, General.” The look on his face is everything that you had hoped for, and you wish to shock him even further with your next move. Hooking your fingers into the towel at his waist, you unravel it and expose his growing length, sinking down in front of him.

Quickly, he grabs your arm once he realizes what you are doing, preventing you from going lower. You pout up at him. “My Queen, a woman of your status should never kneel on the ground for any man. You must remain dignified.”

“My dignity,” You half scoff at the notion, rising to look him in his beautiful brown eyes. “I have neither dignity nor pride. You have it all, my love; I have given myself to you completely.” You allow yourself to break from your role play just this once, he needs to know that your words are true. If there is anything he should know by now, it is that you hold no reservations toward him. With him, you are equal and you trust him completely. It is not like you have never serviced him before, but he has never seen you on your knees below him due to his own beliefs and you would like to change that tonight. “I want to do this for you.”

This time when you lower yourself, he allows you to drop until your knees rest on the ground. The view he has is undeniably sinful. You can tell how much he enjoys it by how rapidly he hardens in front of your face. But when you look up from your own spot on the floor, you find that your view is equally as jaw dropping. Jimin looks down at you from over his nose, the damp hair on his head sticking to his forehead and dangling over his eyes, shadowing his features into sharp lines. Every inch of his body is chiseled to perfection, displaying the hours of training he has undergone over the years to get to the level of skill you witnessed today, and if it were not for you already kneeling on the marble, your knees would have buckled right from under you. He is like a statue carved by the gods. And he is all yours.

“If a Queen wants her soldiers to keep performing for her she must reward them, and you are the very best, so I will be sure to give you special treatment.” Lightly grasping his member, you take the time to feel how he grows in your grip. Just the feeling of you running your fingers over his plush balls has him almost fully erect, the muscles of his abdominals tensing as you lean forward to slide him into your mouth, caressing the underside of his cock with your tongue without closing your lips just yet. You’ll work him up slowly, you decide, wanting him to savor this rare occasion in hopes that he will allow you to do it again sometime. Your palm smears your saliva around his shaft and starts to steadily pump him up and down, the simple action causing a groan to tear from your lover’s throat.

Jimin does not know where to look in this moment. Should he focus on your hands as the diligently work to pleasure him? Your tongue when it peeks out from your lips to tease at his slit? The dip of your cleavage that lie in his direct line of sight, framed so perfectly by the underwear you don? Or perhaps those smoldering eyes you stare up at him with, those plotting, gorgeous eyes that call to his deepest desires? You look as if you would do anything for him at this moment— you have intentionally put yourself at his feet to show how vulnerable you are willing to be with him, that you trust him to the utmost degree and you would sink this low, literally, to demonstrate that.

“Shit,” Jimin curses, eyes trained on the way your lips wrap around his reddening tip. You sense his hands fidgeting at his sides, so you take them to place on top of your head, nodding encouragingly until he weaves his fingers into your hair. He throbs in your mouth and you fight back a smirk.

Working meticulously, you take the time to circle your tongue around every sensitive place at his cockhead, licking slowly over his frenulum and flicking over his slit as it starts to leak. The flavor is slightly salty and entirely him, and it makes your legs press together from where your knees dig into the polished marble. Your lips and tongue play at his upper half for a while, one of your hands rubbing whimsical patterns along his tensing thigh while the other tends to his aching base, pumping in time with your mouth with a slight twist to your wrist that has his fingers tightening against your scalp.

“Are you enjoying your gift?” You break away to speak, twirling your tongue around the line of saliva that connects you to his tip in the most lewd way possible.

“Yes,” Jimin pants, clearing his throat when his voice comes out raspy. But the sound makes you drip into your designer panties, the flimsy material doing little against your increasing wetness. “How did you become so skilled at this, My Queen? You are such an angel but possess devilish talent with that pretty mouth of yours.”

“I had an excellent teacher.” You wink up at him, hoping he was imaging all the times he guided you when you wished to taste him, becoming more confident as time passed and you no longer feared your gag reflex. You figure now is a good time to demonstrate just how well you absorbed those lessons, you finally sink further down on him until he touches the back of your mouth, collecting your spit to slick him before pushing him deeper and into your throat. Your stomach quivers as you hold back the urge to gag, but he sees none of that because when you look up his head is tossed back in ecstasy and concentration. He must focus so he doesn’t cum so soon.

“Just like that.” Biting into the plush of his bottom lip, Jimin falls into the trance of your movements, bobbing up and down on him with his tip lodged in your throat. The first moan he lets out has a shiver crawling up your spine, deep and loud so it echoes against every surface of the room. Drool slides out of your mouth as you continue to suck him but you pay no mind to it, only focused on the way your lover’s body reacts to you. His chest heaves for breath and you can see perspiration beginning to coat his chest and neck, Adam’s apple bobbing every time he swallows. The hand that was previously occupied with the rest of his length moves to his balls, kneading and massaging the sack gently as more moans pour from his mouth. Your clit throbs the longer you suck on him, his cock now at full length and hardness and feeling so thick and heavy on your jaw that you can’t help but fantasize about feeling it inside you again.

His hips eventually begin to twitch and rock into each of your movements, but you can tell he is restraining himself from bucking into you fully. When his eyes connect with yours again, you nod as best you can, pulling off slightly to take a few deep breaths and kiss along his silky skin. Once you have your breathing back to normal, you poise yourself with your mouth open wide and tongue poking out, the sight of you inviting him into your warmth while dressed so scantly and looking up at him with such confidence making it incredibly difficult for him to keep his composure. Here you are, his Queen, the ruler of an entire kingdom by birth right who possesses such elegance and high esteem, sitting below him and offering your throat for his pleasure. This is something that no one else in the entire world will ever see and he feels something similar to pride swelling in his chest at that fact. He knows what you are silently asking him to do, so he does not keep you waiting a second longer before inserting himself back into your mouth and easing his way in until your nose is nestled in the trimmed hair above his pubic bone.

Curses leave him in a continuous string as he takes time to adjust to the sensation, a lightness filling your head that makes you feel like you are floating through the clouds. And that feeling only increases when he starts to move, pulling his hips back for you to take in air through your nose before thrusting in again. Jimin fucks your mouth slowly at first, warming you up to it before he starts to get a bit rougher and visibly more eager, his lips sucked into his mouth as he glares down at you. In any other context, you would think him angry if he ever peered at anyone this intensely, but now you only feel the pool of arousal that builds in your core and gushes out of you at the intimidating glower. Still, his muscles are rigid with hesitance.

“May I go faster?” He breathes, never pulling out to free your mouth to respond. You moan out an answer as best you can, running your tongue against him in approval until he finally releases his tension and follows the urges of his body. He doesn’t aim deep into you, but his pace is quick, surely bruising your esophagus, yet you cannot bring yourself to be bothered. The sensation is indescribable, his hands cupping the back of your head and the sheer heat of his body almost overrides the lack of oxygen in your lungs— and simply imagining the pleasure he is feeling because of you has electricity shooting down to your core. Jimin has his eyes glued to the sight of his cock disappearing into your mouth, but they quickly shift when your hands find their way to your chest to pull down the bra just enough so your nipples poke out, both hands pushing your breasts together to give him a sight that almost causes him to lose his load right then and there. His hips lose control, stuttering and twitching as his eyes widen comically at the dream-like image of you, and he is forced to pull away after little over a minute of fucking your face. “Fuck-!”

“Is something the matter?” You ask innocently, knees screaming out from your sustained position. The veins in your husband’s hand bulge as he grips himself so tightly his knuckles turn white, his length jumping every time he opens his eyes to look at you. His use of hard profanity is enough to tell you how much you have unraveled him and you revel in the accomplishment.

“Get up here.” He pants, taking your arm in his free hand and helping you to your feet. You hear him click his tongue at the redness of your knees, but don’t have much time to dismiss it before his lips are on yours. Jimin kisses you deeply as if your face is not sloppy with saliva and his precum. He kisses you like it could save lives. And above every filthy thing you have done with him, this kiss is what makes you feel a bashful heat color your cheeks when he pulls you closer.

“Am I to assume I performed well?” You mumble against his lips, eyes crossing slightly to see his smile.

“You were outstanding. So much so that I nearly came down your pretty throat.” Smugly, Jimin unclips your bra, parting from your lips after several minutes of kissing to trace his tongue down your neck until he reaches your chest, forgoing all teasing to wrap his lips around a pert nipple.

“Oh-“ A surprised yelp leaves you and he has to use his strength to keep you from falling over, your legs suddenly feeling like jelly. Your fingers card through his drying hair, tugging at the unbothered man as he has his fun marking and sucking at you. As always, his mouth works miracles, but you have never felt anything like this before. Each swipe of his tongue around your nub has you moaning out his name, when he twists at the other nipple your head falls back in absolute bliss. He’s not doing anything extraordinarily notable, but it is like your body has reached a sensitivity that is completely new to you both. Jimin certainly is enjoying it immensely. His eyes are closed but you can see how they crinkle gleefully at the sides, his cheekbones high almost as if trying to conceal his amusement at your reactions. With puckered lips, he suctions one of your nipples before pulling back to speak.

“I can’t wait,” He grazes his teeth over your other tit before continuing. “-until these fill up with milk for our baby. I’m sure you will look incredible carrying our child inside you— even more amazing than you already look, my love. So round and plump... your cute little womb filled to the brim with my cum and baby.” Your eyes roll when one of his hands slips down your panties to tease at your lips. A growl resonates in his chest at the feel of your wetness. “You like the sound of that, don’t you? What would the people say if they found out that their elegant Queen got soaking wet just from sucking cock and thinking of getting her pussy stuffed full of cum? Hmm? Surely they will know how filthy you are once they see you swollen with my child, walking around the kingdom so shamelessly after getting marked by my seed. They’ll know just how good you’ve been for me, darling.”

“I want them to know I’m yours; I want to be pregnant with your baby so badly!” You sob, hips bucking into his hand as soon as he makes contact with your clit.

He soothes you with soft kisses along your face, ending with a lick to the corner of your mouth as you pant out loud moans for him. “I know, love. The time will come soon enough.”

Once again his lips return to your chest, and the combination of his mouth and fingers has your walls fluttering and clenching around nothing. Even after he removes his hand from your panties to hold you closer to him, you feel the building of an orgasm. Your body is completely taken by his tongue and teeth as they suckle cherry blossoms into your skin. And when his wet fingers travel up to twist at your unattended nipple, you feel your body careening off the edge unexpectedly.

“J-Jimin, I-“ Your sentence is cut short by a long whimper, mind going blank at the pleasure. You are able to feel how your walls snap open and closed, each pulse growing more intense as the high drags on for what seems like an eternity to you. Jimin groans at the sounds you make and he looks on in awe from where he still laves at your breast as you bite down on your lower lip to ground yourself. He doesn’t mind the way you tug at his roots in your bliss. The pain only adds to the throbbing of his cock.

“So sexy,” He murmurs as you regain your senses. You seem embarrassed, unable to meet his eyes, and he questions it.

“I have never-“ Averting your eyes to the ground, you look for words in your scrambled mind.

“You’ve never cum like that before?” For some reason you find it slightly humiliating and you have no idea why. Were you really that sensitive from not having sex with him for a few weeks? Your nipples were never that receptive before. Nodding in agreement, you hide your face until Jimin lifts your chin with his finger. “Do not shy away from me, My Queen. You look gorgeous when you cum.” Before you can process it, his hands are yanking down your ruined panties, drenched all the way through and dripping. Your back connects with the wall next to the mirror as you are pinned against the surface with his weight. His fingers slide over your clit and you jolt, attempting to close your legs, but he is faster and jams his thigh between yours to hold you open. “In fact, you look so good that I want to see you do it again.”

Without warning, he plunges 2 fingers knuckle deep into you, searching with little trouble for that spongey area inside you. You are wet enough to lubricate his fingers until he drips down his hand, the slick part of his palm beginning to rub harshly against your clit when his fingers curl upwards.

“Oh fuck,” You gasp brokenly when he reaches your spot. Feeling you clench, Jimin hums and goes to work massaging the area with the pads of his fingers, pressing his other hand to your lower stomach to increase the pressure. Since the first time you squirted he has been almost obsessed with the sight, working diligently to figure out how to make you do it again. There have been many nights dedicated solely to that cause— nights that you endured with bright red cheeks each time he made fun of your fucked out expression and hoarse voice— it is to the point where he now knows your every weakness and can manipulate your body with mastery. He knows exactly how much pressure you like when his fingers are deep inside you. He knows just the right way to massage that sensitive area to get you to fall apart again even if you feel overstimulated. He knows how to move his entire arm to hit that spot each time without fail, his technique flawless as he moves rapidly inside your clenching heat. Almost like a balloon filling with water, you feel another high building up in your core frighteningly fast and the lewd squelch coming from between your legs soon becomes the loudest noise in the room.

“Let go for me,” Jimin encourages into your skin, burying his face in the crook of your neck and panting hot breaths. It is easy to tell how easily he gets himself worked up when pleasuring you. His hard, wet cock twitches incessantly against your thigh, teasingly close to where you want him, and the feeling alone has you galloping closer to your second release. “You look so beautiful like this, pushed against a wall and taking my fingers. I bet you are just starving for my cock, aren’t you, My Queen? I’ll give it to you right after you cum for me. I want you to show me how badly you want it by soaking my arm with your sweet juices.”

The filthy words he feeds you only add to the hunger you feel for him. One of your legs lifts to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer as the balloon in your core continues to grow. Your heart is in your ears, beating rapidly, and you have no other choice but to listen to him and release your pleasure. With one synchronized prod of his fingers and circle around your clit, you descend into depraved ecstasy and let the balloon pop. You black out slightly, ears ringing and body numb to the world except for everywhere that your husband touches you, but you are aware of the satisfied moan he gives at your obedience. Whispers of delicate praises tickle your chest as he rests his forehead on your collarbone to watch you soil the floors and his lower half with your clear cum. The sound of it splashing and splattering against each nearby surface is quite embarrassing but you can’t bring yourself to think of it when your legs are shaking this hard and your body is tingling with joy.

“Good girl,” You hear Jimin groan, pulling his fingers from you to wrap his arms around your waist so you don’t topple over on your wobbly leg. He figures it may just be easier to keep you up if both of your legs are off the wet floor, so he moves your other leg to wind around his waist before carrying you out of the room and away from the mess to the bed.

Your glazed eyes take him in as he stands above you, a hand running through his disheveled hair as he studies you as well. His face is flushed and sweaty and his chest rises and falls quickly, but you’re sure that is only partly due to the effort he has just put in. There are claw marks on his shoulders and you gasp. You hadn’t realized you were gripping him so tightly, but he doesn’t seem to mind the marks at all, focused entirely on the throbbing member between his legs. Your eyes drop down his toned body to where his hand leisurely strokes up and down his shaft, purposely avoiding the tip to keep himself on the edge. It is almost purple with built up pressure, likely painful by this point, and you will yourself to move your weak limbs to reach out for him, pulling him closer to invite him between your open legs.

He takes his place at your center, one hand pressing into the soft mattress beside your head as he leans over you. You want him to kiss you so badly, but you want him inside you even more. He acquiescences this by sliding into you smoothly before swooping down for your lips.

“Mm~ Jimin!” The thick girth of his shaft stretches you perfectly, ignorant of your ticklish sensitivity as it searches for the deepest spot within you. In no time at all Jimin’s hips are flush with your ass, lips and tongue swallowing your moans into his own mouth.

“(Y/n)-“ He moans in response. Eyes squeezed tight, he forces himself to remain still. “I lose my breath every time I take this dripping pussy of yours. I’ll never get used to it.” Flattered, you hide your face with his by pulling him in for another kiss. The two of you stay like this for a long while, adjusting to each other’s bodies and basking in the intimacy of the moment.

“My love, please move.” You whine when the stillness becomes unbearable, yet you grieve at the loss of his heat when he leans away to pull you closer to the edge of the bed.

The first thrust of his hips already has you squirming. Your slick makes it so easy for him to pump into you that he barely has to put in any effort at all, his hips snapping sharply into you from the beginning. You let your legs fall farther apart at his sides and bite your lip when Jimin’s eyes land between your thighs, staring intently at the place where your bodies connect. You’re sure he can see everything, from the way your lips spread open around his wide member, to the shiny streaks of your arousal that quickly slick the inside of your thighs. It’s like you can feel his gaze caressing you, your body feeling sensitive everywhere he studies. You moan unabashedly at the sensation.

“Do you like it, My Queen? Does this feel good?” He prompts, eager for your praise.

“Y-yes, I-“ It has been so long without his cock inside you that you can’t think clearly. All you can do is shout his name and cling to the bedsheets as he wraps his arms around your thighs and holds them flush against his front. The angle makes you stutter, his tip touching somewhere sensitive that has your thighs squeezing closed. “P-please, harder. Use me.”

“Keep these fucking legs open.” Jimin growls, thrusting more harshly now. You attempt to follow his command and unclench your thighs, but they shake violently as soon as they part and it takes immense focus for you to hold them there. Looking up at your lover, you see the dark look that overtakes his features, dominance radiating off of him as he gets lost in you. You haven’t seen this look on him in a long while, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t sexy. He looks like he wants to eat you alive, devour you whole and leave not a morsel of you left until he’s had his fill.

Watching Jimin gain so much pleasure from you takes you to another level of bliss. His fingers dig into your thighs as he pounds his cock within your depths, determined to pull more desperate sounds from your throat, and his teeth bite down on his plush bottom lip in concentration. Sweat now trickles down his brow from the humid heat of the room, undoing the bath he took prior and replacing the soap with the scent of sex that leaks from his pores. This man is undeniably the hottest person you have ever laid eyes on and you can’t help but clench around him at the visuals he’s giving you.

Feeling you clench, Jimin moans, dragging his eyes up your figure until they land on your breasts. They jolt with every harsh thrust he gives you and dance flirtatiously in front of him— he can’t look away. Suddenly, he leans down and snatches up your hands, pinning them above your head with his fingers intertwined with yours, nearly drooling at how delectable you look under him. Your breasts certainly look different, the shape has become rounder and they jiggle slightly more than he can remember, but Jimin doesn’t think much of this as he focuses on delivering hard strokes. You shiver when his tongue licks a stripe up your damp neck, sucking a spot just below your ear before nibbling the lobe. He knows this is a weak spot for you, and just as he expected, your walls tighten around him once more. You push against him, trying to free your hands, but he has them locked sturdily in his grasp, silently forcing you to submit to him. You probably want to wind your fingers in his hair or grip onto his biceps, but he won’t give up an ounce of power at the moment. Not while he is ravaging you like this. So you settle for squeezing his hands and soaking in their warmth, gasping breathlessly as he takes you. You are entirely at his mercy and you absolutely love it.

One of his hands moves down to grip your thigh and push it open, unlocking you from where you have been clenched around his hips. Both of your wrists now held in one hand and still pinned against the sheets. The bed frame creaks noisily as he changes pace, abandoning his hard and fast thrusts for a slow and deep grind that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Something feels different about you, about the way you feel around him as the head of his cock licks at your cervix. It’s softer than usual and open for him, almost begging for his sperm, and he thinks this is the perfect time to get you pregnant. He aims to stay deep inside you. Each powerful movement is purposeful, everything down to the slight arch of his back that allows his pubic bone to grind into your clit, and you feel like you’re going crazy.

“Oh fuck, Jimin! I’m close again!” Your voice is strained in your throat and he smirks at the sound. He can feel it, the swell of your walls around him as you near your third high, and he swears it’s tighter than usual. Your muscles begin to tense up and push against him, preparing for your inevitable release. And just because you feel like pushing his buttons today, you allow your thighs to attempt to squeeze closed again.

“What did I say?!” The depth of his voice shocks you briefly and your eyes snap open to look at him. His jaw is tight as his stare bores into you with deadly intensity. “Keep your fucking legs open. Or do I have to hold them for you?” You let out a whimper, not daring to move your hands from their raised position when he drops your wrists to push open your other thigh, leaving you dripping and exposed in front of him. Your skin dimples where his fingertips dig into you— though he is careful not to bruise you— and he seems to hit even deeper like this. “You used to be so well behaved, My Queen. Are you acting out just to get a rise out of me?”

You dodge the question. “Please, Jimin, please make me cum again.” You can hardly hear anything aside from the slap of his balls against your ass and the squelch of his cock pushing through your warm walls.

“You think you deserve to cum? What will you do for it?” A dark chuckle leaves his throat when he sees you genuinely thinking of a response, biting so hard on your lip that he fears it might bleed.

“Anything.” You breathe. You’re unsure of how long you can hold back your orgasm, he feels so good fucking you like this, pushing his whole length into you without mercy.

“Anything, darling?” A lecherous grin plasters itself onto his mouth at your expression. “Hm, are you just saying that because you’re desperate? I can tell it feels good, you’re leaking all over me. Do you like it when I go deep like this?” You nod with a whine, eyelids pressed closed to hold back from cumming. “Open your eyes. Look at how deep I am inside you.” Peeling your eyes open, you peer down at yourself upon his command and see where his own eyes are glued. A small bulge presses against your lower abdomen every time he pushes in, disappearing when he pulls out only to reappear with the next thrust. Neither of you can take your eyes off of the sight, absolutely mesmerized by it.

“Please, I’m so close!” You groan loudly.

“You say you’ll do anything, my love?”

“Yes!”

“Will you be a good girl and let me put my baby in you? Let me cum right here against this fertile womb and get you pregnant with my baby?” The effect of his dirty talk is immediate and you clamp down on him, barely holding back as his hand rests over the bulge in your tummy, adding the tiniest amount of pressure to it.

“I will! Please!” Tears wet your doe eyes as you look up at him, digging your nails into the soft sheets above your head to keep from moving your arms from their position. He notes this with a hum, speeding up his hips in reward for your obedience.

“I know you will. Now cum.” On command, your body lets go of all the pent up pressure in your core, gripping onto his length with unbearable strength. Your walls pulsate with so much force that you nearly push him out, and when he finally pulls out of you, you squirt once again over the ledge of the bed. His hands on your legs do nothing to quell the wild tremors that overtake you and the streams of tears that flow over the apples of your cheeks. You are truly a sight to see, flushed red and glowing with the aftermath of yet another ferocious orgasm. Your sensitivity once again shocks him into silence. He didn’t even need to touch your clit for you to climax.

His stiff member bobs like a flagpole in the wind as he takes you in. It’s so hard that it stands straight up against his abdomen, jumping with its own pulse. When you open your eyes it is the first thing you see, and your body heats up again.

“Can you take any more, my love?” Jimin questions with concern, tracing his hands up your waist soothingly.

“Always. I can always take more of you.” Despite the screaming in your limbs, you sit up abruptly and pull him down to the bed, rolling the two of you over as you lock lips. Jimin seems surprised but not opposed to the shift in power dynamics, sensing that you want to take the reins for now. Your fingers wrap around his base and line him up with your slit, showing not even a moment’s hesitation before dropping down and knocking the wind out of both of you.

“You do not have to-“

“No, Jimin, I want to. I am supposed to be treating you after all, let me make you feel good.”

Fuck, you’re hot. Not only do you look amazing on top of him, but your pussy feels much hotter than usual. And it’s so tight, as if it’s greedy for every inch of him and eager to suck out his release. He won’t last long like this, that is for certain. His hands support you as you shift into a squat above him— and maybe it’s the novelty of the position, but he swears it’s never felt this good before.

“I imagined this so many times, but I never thought I’d actually get to see you riding me like this.” He confesses in a strained breath. You press your palms into his chest to lift yourself up, lowering yourself experimentally before repeating the action with less restraint.

“Am I living up to your expectations?” It could just be the angle, but his cock feels unbelievably deep inside you, and you half expect it to hurt yet you feel no pain. There is not even the slightest bit of discomfort as he nudges at your womb and you attribute this to the three incredible orgasms you have already reached tonight.

“God, yes.” He can’t look away from where you impale yourself on him, your shaky legs spread wide to let him see every second of the erotic display. From the way you grip him every time you lift up, to the strings of your arousal and cum that weave a sticky web between your ass and his pelvis, and even to the way your clit swallows in delight, he almost goes lightheaded as he takes it all in. His throat bobs as he gulps, back arching off the sheets under your warm hands.

“Faster?”

You don’t wait for a response before you start speeding up. He’s close, you can feel it in the way he swells against your walls and see it in the way his neck and chest color that pretty pink color you adore so much. Your limbs are aching for relief and it takes all of your remaining energy to keep up your efforts, but you wouldn’t dream of stopping. No, you are determined to bring Jimin to his end no matter what. The high pitched moans he lets out for your ears only are more than enough motivation to keep going, but you are working for a prize much more valuable that the lovely sounds he makes for you. You want his cum. You want it so badly that it is the only thing you can think of, so despite the pain in your fragile legs as you bounce yourself as hard and fast as you can, you continue for him. You’ve never been afraid to put in a little effort, and this is something you are willing to work for.

“(Y/n), I’m gonna cum!” Jimin’s dialect shines through strongly as he grits his teeth through the pleasure you bombard him with. You know it must feel different for him, the pleasure is always so much more intense when you aren’t the one doing all the work, and this is the first time you’ve pinned him down like this. It’s the first time you’ve dropped yourself down to clamp your knees on either side of him and wrap yourself around his upper body as you pant into his neck, leaving sloppy kisses and coaxing him toward his high with whispered words. Now that the roles are reversed, you can see just how wrecked he is for you— the usually composed king now lies spread in a heap of matted hair, sweaty skin, and bitten lips, completely speechless and grasping onto your thighs in a desperate bid to hold onto his sanity. “Please, I- I-“

“Cum for me, My King,” You are sure your body has just about reached its limit, but you feel no pain or fatigue when you look into your lover’s eyes and find an unraveled man. “I promised I would take your cum and let you get me pregnant. Give it all to me, my love, I want it. Cum inside me, Jimin.”

Bucking his hips, Jimin loses all control and throws his head back in anticipation as he aids your movements with his strong arms. When he feels your lips on his chin, he leans forward and allows you to swallow his groans of pleasure, both of you starved for breath but unwilling to pull away from the kiss. Everything you have done for him tonight— wearing sexy lingerie, getting on your knees to please him, squirting not once but twice— culminates into this one moment and he doesn’t think he can take take it. It’s all too much. With three sharp thrusts from both of you, he climaxes with a shout, lifting you up along with him as his hips rise off the bed.

“Oh fuck!” Maybe you shouldn’t feel this way, but you giggle giddily at the state of rapture he’s in because of you. The veins in his neck pop out of his skin as he dumps spurt after spurt of his semen into you, and you think this is the biggest load he’s ever given you. It takes a long time for him to come down from his high and for a moment you wonder if he will be okay with the way he twitches and shivers as your hips roll to a stop.

He doesn’t seem to mind your weight resting on top of him, nor does he react to the light kisses you press to his drenched skin. He does, however, wrap his arms securely around you when you shift to roll off of him, holding you on top of his body until you both have caught your breath and can open your heavy eyelids enough to look at each other with tired smiles.

“I love you.” You grin, running your digits through his disheveled mop of hair.

“I love you more, My Queen.” He pulls you down for another kiss to silence whatever rebuttal you surely have prepared at the tip of your tongue because he knows what you will say. And the thought makes his heart swell.

It seems like hours pass before both of you can work up the strength to part from each other. You have to be carried to the bathroom because your limbs feel far too weak and Jimin is not yet willing to let you go from his embrace. He is mindful of the puddle that you left on the floor as he carries you to the bath, and both of you sink into the depths together to wash away all your sins. You stay like that until your toes are pruned and the water is slightly cooler than lukewarm, the time flying by as you talk freely about everything you can think of: your hopes for your future family, your day with Jackson and Lena, gossip about Lilian and her whereabouts— she has not yet returned to the lodge even at this late hour and you hope that she is safe, but more importantly, you hope that her night with that handsome male servant ends similarly to yours. She could afford to take tonight and tomorrow off to unwind a bit, you feel a tad guilty that her needs may be neglected in the kingdom as she tends to you nonstop in the castle. Sleep finds you both easily and you cannot drop the smile from your cheeks as you cuddle up with the man you love.

This afternoon would have been perfect if not for the way you were feeling. Sparse clouds float through the sunny blue sky, the mountains surrounding you blossoming with vibrancy, but the beautiful scenery is dulled in your bleary eyesight. The lightheadedness you’d felt upon arrival two days ago has returned, along with a pounding headache that dampens your mood.

Jimin and Jackson walk ahead of their queens, talking casually as though they had been friends for years. The sight makes your heart grow warm and you use it to distract you from your discomfort as you walk along the outside pathways to a different section of the enormous castle. Lena notices the shift in your demeanor fairly quickly, commenting that you look less energized than yesterday.

“Did you not sleep well last night?” She implores, her brow creased with worry.

“I had a very restful sleep last night, but it feels like my body is dragging behind.” You try to keep yourself from rubbing at your face. Royals are not supposed to show weakness and vulnerability in public, and even though you are only surrounded by Kyungsoo and a few of Lena’s servants, you wish to uphold your appearances. “I do not feel sick, however, so I do not think it is caused by illness.”

“Would there be any other reason for you to feel fatigued? We did spend quite a considerable amount of time in the heat yesterday.”

“Well,” The guards and servants lag behind you far enough for them not to hear your conversation, but you still lower your voice in modesty. “Jimin and I were intimate late into the evening...” You figure your late night activities are also the reason for the tenderness you feel in your breasts, your tight undergarments causing slight pain as they bind your chest.

“Ah, I see!” She beams back at you, giggling. “You were not used to such strenuous exercise. I have experience with that— one time Jackson kept me in bed for so long that I nearly fainted from dehydration! Jimin seems like he would have a lot of stamina, be careful with that one.” The wiggle of her eyebrows lifts your spirits a bit. Speaking of such lewd subjects is seen as unladylike, especially for royalty, but you find yourself uncaring of that when you are with Lena. You have never had a woman of your same age and status to converse with before, no one could ever relate or felt comfortable enough to speak freely with you. This closeness you have with her is a novel feeling— and it is likely that Jimin feels the same with Jackson.

“I’ll be sure to be mindful of that.” You smile, staring at the back of his head. Your husband turns to look at you when he feels your eyes as he passively listens to the other King recall a story, sending a wink your way before returning his attention to the man beside him.

“Is there any other possible explanation for your symptoms?” Redirecting your gaze to Lena, you catch how her eyes flicker down to your stomach, a small smile on her lips. As soon as you realize her meaning, you stiffen, legs nearly bringing you to a halt.

“No,” Your eyes fall to the ground. “I... do not think it is pregnancy. Before I departed from home I was examined by my doctor and she-“ You sigh. “I am not pregnant.”

“Hmm. Well, I have been pregnant 4 times and have experienced many symptoms with each of my children. What you described to me sounds familiar. Do not dismiss the idea just yet, (Y/n).”

Before you can even open your mouth to form a reply, you are hit with a wave of dizziness that makes the world spin. Kyungsoo is by your side in an instant, stabilizing you as someone asks if you are alright. You are led to a nearby bench where all of the servants crowd around you, Jimin rushing over when he hears the commotion.

“(Y/n)?! What’s the matter?” The world spins a little less when your eyes are closed, so you do not look up at him, but you can imagine the almost sickly worry covering his lovely face. You know he has been especially traumatized by the events of your wedding and you never want to put him in a situation like that again, but you can’t help the way your body feels. Distantly, you hear Jackson order a servant to get the doctor, footsteps skittering away as he comes to squat down in front of you.

“Are you ill?” Jackson’s voice calms the anxiety you weren’t aware you were feeling. It is frightening not knowing what’s going on with your own body. Lena’s words ring in your mind.

“N-no, it is just the altitude. I just need to rest for a minute.” Your excuse is almost convincing, but no one moves— except for Jimin, who moves closer to you on the bench to support your back. After a few minutes, your head begins to clear, though your vision remains blurry. Eyes silently peer at you from all sides and you can feel them hot on your skin, embarrassment now the prominent emotion you feel. “Please do not worry about me, I am fine, really.”

“Are you certain? We can rest here for a little while longer.” Jimin suggests gently, but for some reason this irritates you.

“I said I’m fine.” You snap, earning an even more concerned look from him. Just then, the doctor approaches, slightly out of breath and sweating. “I don’t need a doctor! I’m feeling better already. Look.” You no longer feel dizzy anymore so you attempt to stand, rising quickly from the seat to come face to face with Jackson as he rises as well. Jimin still has his arm around you, both men watching you closely. “See?” But as soon as you’re stable on your feet, the spinning returns as if on cue and you come toppling forward into Jackson’s arms, everything going black.

“You don’t need to do this, Jackson, I told you I feel okay now.” You grumble as he carries you to the infirmary inside the castle. He took you into his arms without hesitation when you fell, offering to carry you because Jimin was rapidly descending into distress. While you were only out for about 2 minutes before you regained consciousness, everyone had reacted as if you were dying.

Looking at your husband now, you can see how unnerved he has become. Because he is a General who has seen many battles, he has trained himself not to react emotionally in stressful situations— but you can read the look in his eyes as clear as day as he walks alongside you, watching you more closely than what is in front of him.

“That is what you said earlier, and then you fainted immediately afterwards. Do not worry, I don’t mind carrying you. I needed a little exercise today anyway.” Always a jokester, you crack a smile at his comment, rolling your eyes as the doctor leads him into a room to rest you on the bed. The doctor works quickly, taking a blood sample from you and leaving for the lab, having already taken your vitals when you initially passed out. “We’ll be waiting outside.” With that, Jackson takes Lena’s shaky hand and exits the room, leaving you in bed and Jimin hovering over you awkwardly.

“Please sit down, you are making me nervous.” You breathe. He blinks and nods absently, perching himself on the edge of the bed next to you. “Are you okay?”

“I should be asking you that.” He laughs dryly. Jimin bites his lip when you give him a sympathetic gaze and take his hand. Your words from the argument you had nearly a month ago echo in his head. This is a chance for him to open up to you about his emotions and seek your comfort, your expression shows that you are expecting it of him, so he takes a deep breath. There’s no use hiding his emotions from you. “Truth be told, I am a wreck. You fainting brought back some rather unpleasant memories.” He confesses.

“I’m sorry.” You really are apologetic, stressing him out is the last thing you ever wanted to do.

“It is not your fault. I just worry about you so much. I cannot bear to lose you, my love, and I feel so helpless when things like this happen, it feels like I always have to wait for others to come to rescue you.”

“Would you like to become a doctor so you are more prepared, then?” He wasn’t expecting that response and snaps his head up to look at you when you laugh. “You cannot control everything that happens to me, Jimin. It is okay to let others help. All I need is for you to stay by my side, your presence is more than enough.” He nods at this, accepting the kiss you plant on his cheek and squeezing your hands.

Long seconds of silence pass as you wait for the doctor to return. Then, a sudden thought pops into your mind that makes you groan aloud.

“Lilian is going to be pissed at me.” You can’t help but chuckle at the circumstances.

“Why is that?”

“I told her to take off today and enjoy her time here, but she was worried about me so she initially refused. I assured her of my health this morning before we left. I can only imagine to look on her face once she finds out what happened.” You do feel a bit bad, Lilian knows you better than anyone and it is clear that she could tell something was off, but you convinced her that her instincts were wrong and now you find yourself in the infirmary. She will surely put herself down over this incident because of her absence when you most needed her.

“You can worry about her after we confirm that you are okay. For now, let us focus on this.” Just then, the doctor enters the room again, coming to stand at the bottom of the bed as you and Jimin look up at them with expectant eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest. You’ve become so used to hearing bad news from doctors, you are almost conditioned to be nervous and guarded around them.

“(Y/n), I have determined the cause of your sudden collapse.” Jimin squeezes your hand tighter and you can feel the sweat on his fingertips. “It appears that you are pregnant! Congratulations! The blood tests showed high levels of-“

“Pardon?” You interject with a raspy voice. Your brain is having a hard time processing the words and you blink slowly for a few seconds, unaware of Jimin’s shell shocked expression. “I- H-how can this be? My physician tested me right before I left and she said I was not pregnant.”

“Well, it is entirely possible to get false negative results, especially when it is early in the pregnancy. I don’t think it reflects poorly on your physician, these things just happen sometimes and are completely out of our control. But looking at my test results and the symptoms you have been experiencing, I am certain that you are about 6 weeks pregnant.”

“B-but I bled last month.”

“For how many days?”

“One or two...”

“Then that was likely implantation bleeding, which is to be expected. Dizziness and even fainting are also fairly common symptoms, so there is no particular need to worry about today’s incident— though I recommend that you make sure to get adequate rest and nutrition to avoid complications in the future. Once again, congratulations.”

Finally, you drag your gaze over to your husband who has been silent since the doctor appeared, and his eyes are filled to the brim with tears when they connect with yours.

“You- (Y/n), you’re finally pregnant!” He whispers, and the way his voice cracks causes the dam to break within yourself and all of your emotions come flooding out. Before you know it you’re wrapped in his embrace, both of you simultaneously sobbing and laughing into each other’s necks from pure joy and surprise as the doctor excuses themselves from the room. It is like all of the building frustration from the past several months has been crushing you slowly and now that weight has been lifted, allowing you to breathe freely for the first time. Jimin feels similarly. He has been holding back so many of his emotions since you first started trying to get pregnant and that has taken a tremendous toll on his mind and body, but for the first time, he can finally release those emotions and let himself feel the heaviness of it all. He is crying harder than you are, soaking the top of your dress as you cradle his head to you and hold him there. His hands ghost over your waist and lower abdomen so delicately, as if protecting the growing life inside of you.

When you’ve both gotten yourselves together enough to allow Jackson and Lena to visit, they rush in without hesitation.

“Is everything okay?” Lena is by your side first, immediately noticing your red and puffy eyes. You’re a little bit hesitant to tell her because you know she’ll gloat about her “sixth sense”.

“Yes, I’m alright. We just found out that I am pregnant.” The room erupts into noise, the two of them sounding like an entire circus as Jackson nearly jumps on Jimin in a bear hug and Lena squeals excitedly beside you.

“I knew it! You dismissed me so offhandedly and it turns out that I was right! I have a sixth sense for these things, you know; you should trust me more often.” Just as expected.

“And here you were, just telling me how worried you were about not yet yielding an heir to the throne,” Jackson throws a heavy arm over Jimin’s shoulder. “I suppose we should celebrate before you depart in the morning. I will throw a lovely ball tonight in your honor!”

“Oh, I must oversee the preparations then! Get some rest, (Y/n), and congratulations again!” And just like that, the couple is gone, rushing back out of the room and leaving you and your husband giggling.

“I am sorry, Lilian.” You apologize for what feels like the thousandth time. She continues to pout as she helps load your belongings into the carriage, barely sparing you a glance.

“I knew I should have stayed; I had a feeling something would happen.” She turns to scowl, not necessarily at you but it is in your direction. “I cannot believe I missed such a huge announcement as well! Both Jackson and Lena found out before me, this is so unfair.”

“You sound like a child,” You snicker, taking Kyungsoo’s hand as he helps you into the carriage behind Jimin.

“Yes, well I think I am allowed to throw a tantrum just this once.” You catch Kyungsoo crack a grin at her, the first time you’ve seen any emotion from him, and it brings a smile to your own face.

“If it makes you feel any better, Kyungsoo found out after Jackson and Lena, too.” Jimin comments, taking your hand and pulling you into his side.

“It does not make me feel better because he still found out before me!”

The sun is still low in the sky but slowly rises as you depart from the kingdom. Once you return to the castle, there are many duties that you must take care of, and many traditional processes you will have to go through now that you are pregnant— you are carrying a possible future heir to the throne after all. But you have never been happier. For now it still feels surreal, even though you have waited nearly a year for this moment, but as soon as the people of your kingdom come to greet you and celebrate the news of your conception, the reality of the situation will hit and you are sure you will be overwhelmed with new challenges. Pregnancy is not an easy thing, but at least you will have Jimin with you to help you through it all, just as he has always done. You rest your head on his shoulder with a mischievous grin.

“So Lilian, how was your date the other night? You seemed rather cozy with that young man at the ball yesterday evening.”

“It was not a date!”

[blushing-titan]

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about chapter 138 again, and I came to a few conclusions. First and foremost, I’m surprised at the amount of Mikasa’s fans who are happy about the possibility of the cabin vision being an actual AU. Mikasa has been one of my favorite characters pretty much since the beginning, but I feel like - if the AU is real - it’s a huge step back for her progress and general well-being. Let me explain my point below - warning, it’s pretty long! I’ll be using manga panels (I obviously don’t own them, all credits go to the author!), and there will be spoilers.

My perspective on Eremika

I’m a firm believer that Eren and Mikasa’s relationship is a bit too unhealthy for Mikasa, at least in it’s current state - to me, it’s clear as a day that it’s way too unbalanced. Mikasa just invests more in it - it’s been shown countless times, both in the manga and anime, that Eren’s safety and well-being is her top priority. He’s on her mind most of the times and she constantly wants to be near him - she thinks of him as her safe place and home.

But what about Eren? He’s often irritated and suffocated by her overprotectiveness. He’s quite a proud person who doesn’t want to be constantly saved - despite generally needing it sometimes. In my eyes, it’s another imbalance - Eren wants to be the strong one, but since Mikasa is just naturally better at that, he constantly feels belittled, like it’s a form of rivalry.

On top of that, throught the entire series Eren has his own set of dreams and goals that doesn’t necessarily always revolve around Mikasa - all while Mikasa makes up her plans and goals solely around Eren. She even admits that all she wants is just to be at his side.

What concerns me too, however, is that Mikasa often puts Eren’s safety and well-being over her own - and it’s something that she realizes. 

Sometimes, Mikasa’s friends act as a voice of reason, but when someone tries to raise any objections or concerns against Eren, she usually backs him up or tries to rationalize his actions. In the example below, Jean is concerned about the scar that Mikasa got after she got attacked by Eren (right after Eren lost control over his titan in chapter 12).

On top of that, Mikasa can be very passive, and even uncritical when it comes to Eren’s more questionable actions. There are times in which the latter can get a bit too blunt, or even straight up mean, but Mikasa either protects him, tries to justify his actions or is literally immobilized by them - like in the scene in which Eren insults her and proceeds to fight Armin, who’s been trying to back her up. Notice how Mikasa is unable to stop Eren from continuously attacking Armin (when, a reminder, the latter one stood up for her), but immediately jumps in to stop Armin from attacking Eren. You can clearly see that even she is shocked by her reaction.

We can also see her being in denial about Eren’s hurtful actions later on. She doesn’t even want to talk about it when Jean brings it up:

She’s also still concerned and worried about Eren a few chapters later, after he had done and stated that he’s about to do terrible things - even at times when her other friends were endangered. This time, it’s Armin who tries to act as a voice of reason.

Now, before we get ahead of ourselves: 

Do I think that Eren doesn’t care about Mikasa, or even hate her (as he said)? No - she’s obviously extremely important to him and he was definitely lying during the table scene. Personally, I’ve never seen him having any romantic feelings towards her, but that doesn’t mean anything - love doesn’t always have to be romantic and I 100% believe that she’s still someone who he holds very dear to his heart. There are many moments that show that he’s also very protective of her, and that - along with Armin - she’s one of the most important people in his life. 

But my point still stands - aside from that, the relationship is just too unbalanced to be considered healthy, especially for Mikasa. Both Eren and Mikasa see it in different light, which often cause them to collide. I just can’t help but feel like Mikasa sacrifices too much for it, too - she often ends up jeopardizing her safety, constantly worries about Eren and clashes with her friends because of it. To some extent, Eren may be doing some of these things as well - but let’s be 100% honest, never nearly as much as Mikasa does. He fiercly protects her when she’s in danger and backs her up when he agrees with her, but at the end of the day he has his own goals and opinions. He doesn’t fixate himself with Mikasa nearly as much as Mikasa does it with him - he’s never jealous of anything but her skills, meanwhile she's often on alert when he’s around other girls. In the manga, she’s displaying jealousy over Annie and Historia, in the anime we can add Hanji to that pool, while in A.O.T. Wings of Freedom she’s also jealous of Sasha and even freckled Ymir - all while Eren remains oblivious and - in these situations, rightfully so - annoyed.

We know that there are reasons why Mikasa treats Eren like this. He obviously saved her life when they were children, but it’s also because she was strongly traumatized by losing both her biological family, and then people who took care of her right after that. It’s only natural that she does anything in her power to not go through that again...

...but it’s important to question if the way her relationship with Eren goes - how she commits to it 100% and how it affects her - is really the best way for her to heal and eventually live a happy life. I believe that Eren himself saw that it was becoming too toxic for Mikasa - and, considering that he actually cares for her and knows that he doesn’t have all the time in the world, he focused on making her move on. In my opinion, that’s why he wanted to push her away during the table scene. It’s also why he tried to get rid of the scarf that Louise brought to him. Even if the execution is far from perfect, he still wants what’s best for her, so he tries to put an end to enabling her unhealthy coping practices. He wants her to live a long, happy life.

Soooo...how does “the cabin AU” fit into all of this?

The answer is simple - it doesn’t. It’s a huge mixture and repetition of everything that’s harmful about Mikasa’s obsession with Eren. It’s a confirmation that Mikasa would be able to leave the entire world for 4 years of constant lying to herself. To betray her friends, leave everything behind, act as if everything was going to be okay and, in turn, make it all worse for herself. Because let me remind you one thing - Mikasa will go on living after Eren looses to the titan curse...but what will she do from now on? Will she stay in the cabin forever, alone and with no one to talk to - no one to share the pain after saying her final goodbye to Eren? Will she come back to the war-ridden world and face her old friends - like Armin who must have been frantically looking for her and Eren? Some of these friends may not want to have anything to do with her after all that - some may be already dead. Maybe there’s no place to go at all.

In my opinion, Eren being okay with this would ultimately prove that he doesn’t care about Mikasa’s wellbeing - and, as I’ve said before I just don’t think that’s the case at all. On top of that, as stated in the beginning, it would serve as a regress of Mikasa’s character - she wouldn’t be able to overcome her weaknesses, which would only make her life harder in the long run. Therefore, I simply can’t accept this vision to be an AU. What do I think it was, then?

Mikasa believes in Eren’s good heart, despite all awful things he commits - she repeatedly says that he does it all for them - his friends...and yet she wants to believe that there must have been a way to not let it all happen. A part of her may be blaming herself, which is why she questions if she could have changed anything by giving him a different answer. 

To me, it’s very obvious and I have to admit: I was horrified to see the amount of fans saying “If only she hadn’t family-zoned him, so many people would still be alive!”. Mikasa was NEVER to blame here and her answer should never have a force to change something like that. At the end of the day, it was Eren’s decision to go on with the rumbling, and I hate to see Mikasa (and the fans, too!) putting any blame for it on her.

In conclusion, I really believe that the vision was Mikasa’s daydream - most likely created as a coping mechanism since at this point she knew what was about to happen - what she had to do. Not any AU flashback, but rather a poor, traumathised girl trying to come to terms with the cruel reality - and ultimately reclaiming her strength. In her mind, she comes back to her safe place for a few moments, just to get a bit of comfort - a place where she and Eren live peacefully and safely. In fact, the panel below may suggest that she was dreaming about something similar ever since the training days:

I also believe that, at some point, Eren enters that dream - perhaps somehow through paths, or is sent there by Ymir. There, he once again reminds Mikasa that he wants her to live long, be free and forget about him.

I think in the end, Mikasa rejects that fake utopia, finally understanding that it could never happen and it was not her fault. She accepts the reality as it is and stops rationalizing Eren’s actions. She also comes to terms with her feelings towards him, but won’t let it cloud her judgement anymore. She will remember him and cherish these memories forever, but acknowledges that it has gone too far - she chooses humanity, the world and finally: a long, happy life for her. Just like Eren would want for her.

This time, Mikasa wraps the scarf around herself.

If you’re here, wow - thank you so much for reading, it means a lot! I’m sorry for any mistakes I’ve made while writing - English is not my first language and I didn’t really have anyone to beta-read this long wall of text xd Hope I made my points clear - and just to clarify, my text is not an invitation for any ugly Mikasa haters. As I’ve said before, she’s one of my favorite characters and I hope for the best for her - she’s been through so much, poor girl needs a break :C