#a title given to mark her as an experiment.

[mariocki]

Honor Blackman guest stars as art expert Syd Lewis in Saber of London: Deep in the Heart of Chelsea (1.3, NBC, 1957)

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [1]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Teaser | Fic Masterlist | Part 2

Park Seonghwa.

As pretty as it may sound, that name was known across the nation as the intimidating military general trusted by His Majesty, the King, to lead the royal army.

For those who have not had the privilege of encountering him in person, the assumption might be of a rugged and perhaps middle-aged individual, given his extensive experience on the battlefield and high military rank. And those who have met him will know that his beauty was just as deadly.

But there's more to it – his renown extends beyond the confines of martial prowess. The general has garnered a reputation for scaring away all potential marriage candidates. His cold nature isn't limited to the battlefield; it extends to his personal life, affecting even the people closest to him.

In essence, Seonghwa was not a figure most people would look forward to meeting at all. If anything, most tended to avoid him like the plague. His name alone was enough to instil terror, be it in enemies, common folk, or even nobles.

But he was more than fine with it.

The general took pleasure in the fear that gripped anyone crossing his path. He had no interest in being loved or admired. The bloodshed inherent in his job brought him ample satisfaction, and the accompanying title and wealth were merely added perks.

One thing that irked him more than anything else was the King's relentless insistence that he should marry.

You see, he lacked the capacity for love, having grown up devoid of any such affection. All he cared for was his own survival. He understood, more than anyone, that trust was a rare commodity on this earth. Those close to him always harboured their own motives. The concept of genuine love or care was as good as non-existent in his dictionary.

His parents, if they could even be called that, abandoned him by a dumpster outside an orphanage. Born prematurely and deemed likely to die soon, they left him for dead. However, his determination to survive surpassed all expectations. He fought through the years and emerged as the person he is today.

Seonghwa's entire childhood was marked by brawls fighting for survival and to earn a living. But then fate took a turn when a perceptive military soldier scouted him, recognising the untapped potential within.

Rising from the bottom, his borderline cold-blooded character propelled him swiftly up the ranks, achieving remarkable progress within just a couple of years. His notoriety soon echoed in the ears of the King, and almost in the blink of an eye, he ascended to become one of the youngest generals in history.

And that was how he learned, through the hard way, that one would have to be useful in order to be valued. He has seen enough to understand it was a dog-eat-dog world.

The King favoured him solely for his skills, his servants stuck around for the generous pay, and every potential spouse presented to him was merely interested in his wealth or title.

This time would be no different.

"Seonghwa-yah, you're not young anymore, my boy. It's time for you to get married and have a few kids. Otherwise, who would succeed you? It would be such a shame for your bloodline to die with you." His Majesty said, a concerned frown creasing his wrinkled forehead.

The general lowered his head to conceal the smirk on his face. See? That's exactly what he meant. One would be foolish to believe that the King genuinely wanted the best for him; all the old man cared about was ensuring the continuation of his legacy.

Before Seonghwa could present another argument, as he always did, the King raised a hand to halt him, "That's enough; you have rejected all my previous proposed matches and deliberately scared off some of your betrothed as well. I may have been too lenient with you. This time, you will get married, and that's final."

He gripped the hilt of his sword in frustration, "But, your Majesty—"

The King shook his head, "Seonghwa, you will be stripped of your title if you do not cooperate."

That was enough to silence him.

He had worked tirelessly to reach his current position; it would be stupid to jeopardise it all over a refusal to marry. The whole idea seemed utterly outrageous; the old man must be senile to be threatening him over something so trivial.

But what choice did he have?

None.

"Fine, as you wish." The general sighed.

His Majesty's demeanour swiftly changed, breaking into laughter and applause, "Oh, that's wonderful! We already have a perfect candidate for you anyway. The Minister of Military Affairs has offered his eldest daughter's hand. I'm sure she would make a lovely wife for you."

"Has he now? How thoughtful of him."

Seonghwa wasn't stupid; he recognised that the minister harboured resentment regarding his recent ascent in the ranks. The old fool was undoubtedly anxious about preserving his own position and was actively exploring ways to subdue the younger man's progress, going to great lengths just to keep the general from outranking him.

As the assembly with the King concluded that day, Minister Jang was quick to intercept Seonghwa before he could exit the palace, "General Park, I eagerly anticipate our forthcoming union. I assure you, my eldest is a gem; you'll come to adore her." The elder man remarked smugly.

"Oh, I'm sure I will." He sneered, shrugging off the minister's hand before storming off.

Arriving at his estate, a servant approached the general with a tray of tea, "Welcome home, master," Having suppressed his anger for too long, he couldn't hold back any longer. He smacked the tray out of the poor woman's hands, growling, "Get out of my goddamned sight this instant." She bowed repeatedly, apologising profusely as she picked up the tray and the broken cup before scurrying away.

He slammed the door to his study open, nearly scaring the living daylights out of his only trusted aide, Jongho, "S-sir, is everything alright?" The assistant asked tentatively.

Seonghwa grumbled as he kicked his desk aside to sit in his chair, "The King demanded that I get married and even threatened to strip me of my title if I refused. I need you to dig up some information on Minister Jang's family; that man is up to something."

Jongho bowed once and rushed off to do as he was told, "Will do, sir."

Glaring at his desk, he clenched his fists at the thought of his future wife. Considering her hateful father, she likely resembled him. After all, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. He was more than ready to face the likes of her, having successfully scared off a few spoiled brats before.

More unbearable to him than the King's incessant pressure for him to marry was the presence of irritating little pests, manifested in the form of noblewomen from wealthy families—the entitled sort who believed they were superior to everyone else.

All the encounters he had experienced so far were with that particular breed. If given the chance, he would gladly eradicate every single one of those seemingly useless, good-for-nothing individuals. Without a doubt, his wife-to-be would be another one of those insufferable girls.

Be prepared, wife. Life is about to become quite exhilarating for you.

"Gather around, kids. I have news!" Your father announced as he entered the family estate, cheerfully wrapping his arm around his second wife, your stepmother.

"What's going on, father?" Jinah asked, eagerly joining her two sisters, Jinhee and Jinjoo.

The man let out a tired sigh when he realised you were nowhere in sight, "Where is she?"

Jinhee scoffed, "You mean unnie? In her cage, of course. This is a family meeting; why would we need her around?"

The minister directed a nearby servant, "Fetch her to the main hall; I have an announcement to make." The three sisters and their mother exchanged intrigued glances, wondering what this unexpected proclamation could entail.

Staring numbly out of your tiny room window, you ponder the meaning of life. What was the point of being born if every member of your own family shunned you? To be fair, only your father is family; your stepmother and stepsisters are mere outsiders. Yet, even he hasn't bothered to treat you as such.

Your mother might have been the sole person to ever love you, but you couldn't possibly be sure. Unfortunately, she hadn't been alive long enough for you to remember much about her.

Could she have had any love for you, even when she herself lacked affection from her own husband?

That, you'll never know the answer to.

You've heard that your father had no choice but to marry your mother for political reasons and that your stepmother had been his mistress at the time. When your mother finally fell sick and died, he seized the opportunity to marry the harlot and take in all three of her bastard daughters.

Life has been nothing but hell ever since.

No one has treated you like a lady from a noble house; not even the servants were allowed to do so.

All you could remember was pain.

Endless pain all throughout your childhood.

In fact, the pain still persisted until this day, you felt it acutely in the numerous spots on your body, each a testament to the beatings you endured regularly as punishment. And those punishments were often for things you didn't do—blatant lies told by your stepsisters that your father used as an excuse to unleash his wrath.

Excluded from all family activities, even meals, you survived on leftovers and were confined to your quarters with nothing to occupy your time. It felt as if you were treated worse than the estate's servants, receiving only enough sustenance to keep you alive. You were more like a punching bag, there solely for their tormenting pleasure.

No one would acknowledge you in this household. You were as good as dead until one of your family members wished to have some fun, your misery providing the best entertainment.

So, imagine your surprise when you were summoned to the main hall for an announcement. Why does your presence suddenly matter? The curiosity gnaws at you as you reluctantly make your way to the gathering, wondering what twist of fate awaits you this time.

Cowering shamefully, you faced the evident disgust in your stepmother's and stepsisters' eyes as they took in your shabby appearance.

You struggled to figure out where to sit.

Approaching the only available seat next to the youngest, Jinjoo, you trudged over timidly, only for her to intentionally spill her cup of tea on the chair, "Oops! My bad, unnie. I guess you'll have no choice but to stand." You wished the ground would swallow you as everyone around snickered into their fists.

You looked over to your father, hoping he might stand up for you, only for your heart to sink in disappointment as usual when he averted his gaze with a clear of his throat, "Alright, now that you're all here, I have news to share." He announced, leaving you standing awkwardly in the corner, unnoticed and unwanted.

"Something interesting happened at the assembly with His Majesty this morning," Your father announced, capturing everyone's attention. All eyes were on him, eagerly awaiting the big revelation of this announcement, "The King has pressured General Park to marry once again, and this time, he was serious."

You noticed the expressions of your stepsisters turning fearful at the mere mention of the famous general.

"I figured it would be good to establish a connection with the general, considering his powerful standing in the military. So, I offered my daughter's hand to him in marriage."

Your stepsisters all gasped simultaneously.

"Father! How could you do such a thing to us?! Haven't you heard? That general is a monster! He scared off all of his previous fiancées. Do you have any clue how he'll treat us?" Jinah screeched tearfully.

But her mother calmed her with a sly smile, "Oh, you silly girls, why did you think your elder sister is here for?"

Oh.

Remaining rooted to the spot, you took in the shocking news. Your supposed family cheered at the announcement, their excitement palpable.

"Oh, unnie! You're finally making yourself useful for once!" Jinhee laughed, and your father nodded, a smirk playing on his lips, "That's right, my dear. You've always struggled to find a purpose in life, haven't you? Perhaps you'll grow to love your new life with General Park. I'm sure he'll take good care of you."

Everything turned into a blur as they celebrated what felt like your demise. Dismissed to your quarters, you retreated, letting the weight of the information sink in.

You had heard of General Park; how could you not? He was only the most feared person in the entire country.

Perhaps, in a twisted way, that could be a good thing. If he were to end your miserable life once and for all, it might be a mercy for you too.

After all, you had had enough of this life.

On the day you were set to marry Park Seonghwa, you were puzzled to find a group of servants sent to your quarters, armed with some of the finest clothes you'd ever seen, "What is this?" You questioned, eyeing the luxurious garments with scepticism.

The head of the maids sighed, "Young miss, you are marrying as the eldest daughter of Minister Jang. Surely, you have to at least look the part, yes?"

Oh.

That made sense.

Of course, it was all to make your father look good. Who would care about you?

Resigned, you sat like a doll as they worked on enhancing your appearance, transforming you into a vision of refinement. You observed their extra effort to conceal the remnants of bruises and scars from years of torture.

"All done." The head maid declared as they turned you around to face the mirror. As your eyes met your reflection, you failed to recognise the person staring back at you. You hadn't known you were capable of looking... what do they call it? Beautiful?

But this was only temporary.

You couldn't possibly fool the general forever with makeup. Sooner or later, he would see just how ugly and broken you were underneath all these artificial lies. And he, too, will be just as disgusted as everyone else. When that happens, you are mentally prepared for all the possible outcomes.

How much worse could it get?

After all, you had already endured a lifetime of hell. Surely, the torment couldn't be as severe as what you had experienced all these years... right?

One of the elderly servants, always watching you from a distance with pity in her eyes, approached you as the others dispersed. Her frail but warm hand landed on your shoulder as you met her gaze through the mirror.

With a kind smile, she nodded encouragingly, "I hope you find happiness out there, young miss." You didn't know why your eyes grew wet at those words as you watched her leave with the rest. The unexpected warmth in her gesture lingered, and for a moment, a spark of hope ignited within you.

Happiness?

You weren't sure you even knew what that word meant, but perhaps you'll learn the meaning of it outside of these walls. These walls that felt so much like prison all these years, it's almost funny how it was supposed to be your home.

Truthfully, you didn't think you'd ever live to see the day you would be allowed to leave this wretched place. Caged in here all your life, does anyone even know of your existence?

Perhaps not.

Well, now they might.

Heading to the entrance of the Jang estate, you carried little belongings, close to none.

Your family stood around, excited to see you off. The devious smirks on your stepsisters' faces faltered slightly at your transformed appearance before they scoffed, "Who would've thought? Guess you could actually fool someone looking like that. Just wait till he realises how useless you actually are." Jinhee sneered.

But Jinjoo snickered, "Oh, I'm sure she'll be useful in certain ways."

Jinah burst into laughter at the implication, "Oh yes! Give us plenty of nieces and nephews to play with, yeah?"

Your face burned with humiliation as they made fun of you, as they always did, "That is if she's strong enough to survive him in the first place." Your stepmother muttered, chuckling slyly.

Your father took a step toward you, "There's no time to waste; now get going. Don't you dare make me look bad."

You bowed before turning to leave, but a surge of courage prompted you to look back at your father one last time, croaking, "Father... have you truly never cared for me at all? For my happiness?"

He clenched his jaw, his response cutting, "Don't make me laugh; you and that mother of yours have only ever been a pain to me."

That hurt.

Why did it hurt?

It wasn't news to you. But still, it hurt.

"You want happiness? Find it with him then."

« Preview of Part 2 »

The night before the wedding, Seonghwa lifted his gaze from his scrolls to find his aide arriving slightly out of breath, "Have you found anything, Jongho?"

The assistant nodded after bowing, "Not much on the rest of the family; everything about them is just as known by the public. However, I did uncover more information about the eldest daughter, your bride."

The general straightened in his seat, "What about her?"

With a frown, Jongho continued, "It seems not much is known about her, despite being the eldest. She's the only daughter of Minister Jang's first wife, and no one has seen her set foot out of the estate since her mother's passing. Most sources claim her to be a mystery."

Seonghwa smirked, leaning back in his chair, "She must be quite precious for her father to keep her hidden all these years. Oh, I'll treat her well, all right. Get the head maid to prepare her quarters."

Jongho nodded curtly, feeling a chill run down his spine as he witnessed the sarcastic grin on his master's face.

"Only the best for future Lady Park."

I just want to emphasise that this is NOT a sequel/prequel or extension to Seonghwa's part from my 'Crazy Form' Comeback Special Series. This is a completely different story taking place in an entirely different universe.

Also, while this may be in the Joseon era, I do apologise if some of the details may not be historically accurate. After all, this is only a work of fiction, so please enjoy!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts, feedback or reviews! I love hearing all about it! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[flemingsfreckles]

Armband (18+)

Synopsis: your girlfriend realizes the extent to which the Captain’s armband affects you.

Warnings: SMUT! shower sex, risk of being caught, oral sex (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), little bit of teasing, minimal orgasm denial marking, cursing, use of armband as gag… 🫣

WC: 3.4K

A/N: I’m a sucker for the armband 🙃

“I’m so proud of you.” You leaned over and whispered into Jessie’s ear. She had just formally captained her first game for Canada. She’d worn the armband before, when Sinc wasn’t available, or when there would be a substitute she’d find the armband being passed to her. But now it was hers, she was the captain, the armband was hers to wear all the time and it drove you crazy.

Jessie had always been a leader on the field, she was level headed, smart, she had the experience to back it up, but now the formal indicator of her leadership sat snugly on her left bicep.

“If you stare long enough you might burn a hole through it.” Jordyn had come up behind you, smacking the back of your head lightly and teasing at the way you couldn’t stop gawking at your girlfriend’s new accessory. She gave you a smile as she walked away leaving you and Jessie to have privacy again.

“I’m proud of you, Little Miss. Two Goals and an Assist.” Jessie nudged you back.

“I owe it all to you, Captain.” You let the title drag out, whispering it in a tone that told Jessie everything she needed to know about how you felt with her new title. She turned, one eyebrow raised.

“Seriously? You’ve seen me wear the armband a hundred times now it gets you worked up?” A small laugh falls from her lips as she looks at you.

“I dunno.” You shrug at her, feeling the blush radiate up your cheeks. “It's formal now.”

“Alright babe.” She says before walking off to go sign autographs for some little kids wearing her jersey. You make your way to another part of the field and begin to chat, sign autographs, and take photos. You make a lap before heading into the locker room.

You’re taking off your sweaty shirt when Jessie comes up behind you, her hands on your hips. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“What do you want to do the rest of the day?”

“Anything you want, Captain.” You say to her, turning in her hands so you’re facing her and again trying your best to drag out her new title. You raise your eyebrow, indicating your answer wasn’t meant innocently. You let your fingertips flirt over the band on her arm.

“Is that so?” Jessie questions and you quickly nod. “Go shower, I’ll deal with you when we’re home.” She pushes you in the direction of the showers with a smile. You knew what she meant by dealing with you. She’d fix the aching between your legs you had for her.

You were quick to gather your towel and soap before hopping into the shower, rushing in hopes of getting home and thrown into bed sooner.

You dip your head under the water, feeling refreshed as the sweat washes from your skin. You hear the noise of other showers running, the sounds of shower curtains opening and closing as your teammates clean off.

You're facing the wall when you suddenly feel cold hands on your bare waist. “Oh!” You say out of surprise before turning and seeing Jessie behind you. Her hand quickly covers your mouth. You look her up and down, she’s in her spandex shorts and her bra, her arm still sporting the armband.

“Hi.” Jessie leans into your ear, whispering at a volume only you can hear. “You said anything I want right?” She takes her hand off of your mouth.

“Yes Captain.” You lean in to whisper to her. You watch as Jessie’s eyes widen, maybe she hadn’t expected you to use the title in a sexual manner but given her reaction she seemed to like it.

“Good girl. You’re either going to be quiet, or I’ll make sure you're quiet, understood?”

You nod, you already know you won’t be able to keep quiet, you never could with Jessie. It caused a fair amount of teasing from your teammates from overhearing the two of you in hotel rooms after big games or stressful games. You really didn’t mind, you had no shame in getting fucked good by your girlfriend but you knew Jessie was quick to shy away from everyone knowing what the two of you did in the bedroom, or in this case the shower.

Jessie reaches up, angling the shower head off to the side to not waterboard the two of you, the heat from the water still keeping the air around your bodies warm. She pulls you in tight and brings her lips to yours. Your wet skin comes into contact with her dry clothes and skin. She gently sucks your bottom lip between her own, letting her teeth dig into it. Her hands roam along your waist and up to your back, she gently scratches her nails down. Such a small action already has you letting out a whine. Jessie releases your lip with a pop and gives you a glare.

She brings her finger to her lips, showing you the sign to be quiet. You nod at her, you wanted to give her what you promised, anything she wanted. Jessie also wasn’t one to risk being caught, but here she was, in the showers, teammates of yours just feet away. This was new and it was hot.

Jessie’s hands slid their way down your torso and to your hips. She gently dug her thumbs into your hip bones before pushing you backwards until your back felt the cool rush of the shower tile. That’s when Jessie began trailing kisses down the length of your body. She started with your lips a few pecks before letting her tongue meet yours. Just as you fell into a rhythm kissing her, she pulled back. This time you remembered to hold in the whine, biting your lip hard as Jessie began to place open mouth kisses down the column of your neck.

She paused in place when she heard your breath hitch and felt your hands grab at her biceps. You so badly wanted to moan her name, let your teammates know how good she took care of you, but you couldn’t. You feel a sharp nip at your neck before the strong suction of Jessie’s lips. She was marking you, on your collarbone, a place everyone would see when you changed. When she released the skin you looked down seeing the dark red spot already forming. You shot Jessie a firm look, to which she just smirked before whispering “Anything I want.” up at you.

Clearly wanting to prove her point, Jessie continues down your collarbones, to your chest, making sure to suck a couple dark marks into the flesh there. She brings her hands up each to cup your chest, letting her thumbs circle your nipples, making them harden under her touch. You’re able to hold back moans, instead letting out shakey deep breaths which have Jessie smirking at you, knowing what she’s doing to you. Before moving away from your head Jessie leans into your ear again. “Hold those pretty noises in, don’t want any of our teammates hearing just how needy you are for me, so needy that you’ve got me to fuck you in the showers, do we?” She shakes her head at you and you mirror her actions. “Good, now let’s see how well you can listen.”

Content with playing with your chest, Jessie makes herself a small path of red bites and bruises down your whole body right to where you wanted her. Jessie drops to her knees, one of your hands finding the top of her head and the other supporting you against the shower wall. Despite being on her knees for you, you knew Jessie held all the control in this moment.

Her hand trailed slowly up the back of your leg until it rested in the bend of your knee. She gently pulled your leg up and out before placing it to rest on her shoulder. She doesn’t lean in immediately, instead bringing up one hand to open you up, you watch as she licks her bottom lip, looking at your core then up to you and then back down.

You throw back your head in anticipation as you see Jessie bring her head forward to place her mouth between your legs. With the first swipe of her tongue your knee buckles and Jessie’s hands are quick to grab your thighs holding you up. Jessie dives her head back in, her tongue easily finding your clit and lapping at it. It’s embarrassing how quickly you’re letting out a moan. Or half of a moan, the second it starts to spill from your lips you close your mouth before looking down at the unamused expression on your girlfriend's face.

She gets up from her knees, letting your leg slide off her shoulder. She brings herself face to face with you and places a hand on your jaw. She turns your face to the side and brings her lips to touch your ear.

“What did I say about making noise?” Her voice is hushed and rough. When you go to open your mouth and answer Jessie’s grip on your jaw tightens. “No, don’t make excuses. You didn’t listen, you can’t keep yourself quiet, I’ll do it for you.” She drops her hand from your jaw and her right hand comes up to grab the armband, yanking it down her arm before she folds it up. Her hand comes back up to your jaw, and you suddenly feel your core clench around nothing, realizing the arousing thing Jessie is about to do.

“You like that armband of mine so much, let me put it to good use. Open.” She growls into your ear as she pinches her thumb and index finger hard into your jaw forcing your mouth open before her other hand bunches up the armband and she puts it between your lips and teeth. “That should keep you quiet, don’t even think about taking it out.”

You let out a sigh, testing how well the fabric in your mouth muffled your sounds, it wasn’t completely soundproof but it would work.

Jessie brought herself back to her knees, lifting your leg again and giving you no warning before her face was back between your legs. This time you can tell she’s trying to get you to make noise. Maybe she didn’t care anymore, maybe she liked the idea of you struggling to keep quiet under her. Her lips sucked hard on your nerves and you can’t help but bite down harder onto the fabric. You didn’t want her to stop, you didn’t want to make noise.

You feel yourself tighten your jaw more as Jessie’s fingers begin to tease at your entrance. She lets her fingertips just barely enter before she takes them away. The next time she enters them to the first knuckle before again taking them away from you. A groan of frustration bubbles up in your throat. You needed her. Jessie knew you needed her, that’s exactly why she continued on teasing. She repeated the process, liking how every time she entered you tried to buck your hips, hoping she’d go in deeper. Instead Jessie was more satisfied hearing the tiny noise that came through the armband each time she took her fingers away. She knew your eyes were screwed tightly shut, trying your best to not make noise as she had requested. She was keeping you just where she wanted you, right along the edge. You were putty in her hands and she loved it.

The next time Jessie teases her fingers and takes them away you pull hard on her hair, pulling her face back, her lips releasing from you with a pop. She looked up at you and you tried to give her your best begging look, you thrust your hips slightly toward her hoping she got the hint. Jessie licked her lips as she looked up at you. You were a beautiful sight, your soaked core in her vision, your torso littered in marks she made, your chest heaving from the teasing. On top of it all your pretty mouth was filled with her armband. Jessie was floored by your beauty, deciding she’d give you what you deserved, after all, you had been good for her and you had played well, she knew you deserved a reward.

Jessie brings her mouth to you, this time just sticking her tongue out flat and placing it against you. You stand still waiting for her to begin moving. Instead Jessie’s hands come between your legs to grab your ass. They give a quick squeeze before her hands start encouraging your hips to move. She pushes your hips forward then pulls you back, repeating the movement until you pick up the idea on your own, she wants you to ride her face.

You immediately oblige to her request, you begin thrusting and grinding yourself against Jessie’s mouth and nose. Your hand in her hair grips her tightly, holding her where you need her. It doesn’t take much, a couple moments grinding your clit into Jessie’s nose when you feel your leg begin to shake under your weight. You were getting close. It was becoming harder and harder to keep your noises in. The armband muffled the sounds but your jaw being open meant you couldn’t hold them in the way you would by clenching your teeth and biting your lip. The closer you go the more sounds that come out, pathetic whines and whimpers as you are unable to form any words.

You’re grateful for the armband and the sound of multiple showers running when Jessie pushes your hips hard back against the wall, taking away the pleasure of riding her face. It was unlikely anyone heard the sound of desperation that came from your throat as you tried to rut your hips against nothing.

Jessie stood up again, pressing her whole body against yours, the cold shower tile touching every inch of the back of your skin. She placed kissing along your collarbone as her hand still pressed your hips firmly into the wall, not wanting you to get any kind of stimulation.

She kisses up your neck and gently pulls your ear between her teeth, biting it before talking to you quietly. “You said anything I wanted right?” You nod against her face. Her hand releases your hip for a moment, she places her leg between your thighs helping pin you to the wall while also torturing you more with the pressure on your clit. “Don’t move your hips.” As if she knew what your next move was going to be, Jessie told you off before you could do it. Her hand moves and pulls the armband from your mouth. “Answer me, anything I want, right?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Jessie says, looking at you. You’re not sure what she means until she glances from you to the armband and back to you.

“Yes Captain.” You say and Jessie nods.

“And you’re going to be quiet right? Be a good girl with your mouth full?”

“Yes Captain.”

“Okay, I’m going to let you cum, but you have to follow the rules. Can you do that? Can you cum for me in secret?”

“Yes Captain.”

“Open.” Jessie says and you happily open your mouth for her to place the fabric back in. “Now be a good girl and cum on my face and fingers.” She says before she pinches each of your nipples making you jump and let out a squeal.

Jessie drops back between your legs for the third time, pulling up your leg again and this time thrusting her fingers deep inside of you. Your back arches off the wall and you’re throwing back your head. She had you so worked up you already felt yourself clenching tightly around her thick fingers. She gives you one last look up before closing her eyes and placing her mouth and tongue on you again. Her fingers curl inside of you as she sucks and laps at your clit. You feel yourself flutter around her fingers as the tingle in your stomach builds and builds.

Her fingers stretching you, her tongue and lips torturing your swollen clit, the sight of her between your legs, on her knees in the shower, the shower where your teammates are just meters away, the risk of being caught, other people hearing your desperate nosies, it’s all building your high.

That high comes crashing down moments later. The noise you let out is that of a whine followed by a deep groan, one that definitely could be heard by anyone else in the showers if they were paying attention. Jessie works you through your orgasm before standing up, her hands supporting your waist.

“I told you to be quiet.” She says as she takes the armband from your mouth.

“I tried.” You had, you really had, you just couldn’t handle the pleasure and the moans had just happened.

“Well you need to try harder.” Jessie grabs the shower head, turning it back so the water runs down your body. “Let’s finish getting you clean, when we get home you’re going to learn what happens when you don’t listen to your Captain.” She says before reaching for the shampoo.

You had expected Jessie to leave, disappointed in you, mad at the noises you made, but she didn’t. She stayed in the stall with you, striping off what remained of her own clothes. She helped wash you before washing herself, when she turned off the water she reached outside of the shower grabbing your towel before her own. You step out first checking to make sure no one was actively coming in to see the two of you getting out of the same stall.

You’re not sure why you bothered trying to hide when you caught a glimpse at your appearance in the mirror on the way to the changing room. Your towel covered everything from your knees up to your armpit height. However Jessie had taken it upon herself to mark you across both collarbones and up the right side of your neck.

She watched how your eyes widened at the sight, knowing your teammates would see any second. “Don’t be shy now, it’s not like they didn’t all see you eyeing me up all day. They already know you’re getting fucked by me, what’s a little more proof for them.” She just shrugged. You couldn’t believe her sudden lack of care involving your teammates knowing.

You tried you best to duck your head and make your way to your locker, but it wasn’t long until your teammates started talking.

“Jesus, no wonder the water started to get cold!”

“Holy shit.”

“Y’all are gross.”

“Seems like you two had some good post game recovery.”

You hear a chorus of reactions to your appearance. You duck your head further and turn back to look at Jessie who has an all too proud smirk on her face. You’re happy to see she’s at least supporting a small blush, one that’s minor in comparison to the beet red face you had. You try and make your way over to your locker to change and leave before you are subjected to any more teasing.

“One, two, three, four…” you feel Julia’s finger poking at each of the marks, counting them out for everyone to hear.

“Hey, leave her alone, Captain’s orders.” You hear Jessie say from behind you. Her arm comes up to protectively wrap around your shoulders.

“Sure seems like someone took a lot of Captain's orders in those showers.” Janine says under her breath but somehow to the entire room. Your teammates erupted in laughter while you turned, as red as physically possible, tucking your body into Jessie’s.

You knew the teasing was worth it, the sex had been great, incredibly hot, and a good fix for your fascination with the armband. Jessie made it even more worth it when she took care of you that night, over and over, as an apology for the teasing you had endured as a result of her actions.

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Writeblr intro post

So yeah when I first came here I didn't know this was a thing so I've been working on this in the background. Now that it won the poll, I'm making it now!

I'm going to edit this post as I go so it has more links as I make posts about my WIPs!

About Me

Hi. Call me Kaylin. It's a pen name but I like it. (Some people are just finding out this isn't my real name and y'all should've read the bio)

I'm an education major and do writing on the side and it's a huge passion of mine (hence why I want to teach literacy)

Asexual demiromantic sapphic (she/her) currently in a relationship - (I am comfortable within reason to talk about my experiences)

Love ask games and tag games and generally interacting with others

Love reblogging mutuals' writing talking about WIPs!

21+ but my WIPs are YA - I don't usually reblog anything with a mature community label (sorry in advance for mutuals who do), but when I do I mark it 18+ and I try to label content warnings (LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED SOMETHING)

I'm an educator by heart so I love giving feedback, know a lot about kids, and of course education psychology and theory

I have minor scoliosis, early start of arthritis in my hands, and chronic headaches and migraines attacks in control with medication if anyone needs to ask me about these experiences for writing purposes. I also occasionally use a cane due to knee pain from an injury.

I have an ultimate get to know me game if you want to check that out

My asks are always open! Feel free to stop in whenever you want!

My WIPs

The Secret Portal

See linked intro post for more detail!

YA sci-fi/fantasy

Planned to be a five book series

Quick version: A bunch of adolescents discover a portal to a dimension populated by people with powers. There's also a war. Yayyy.

The first installment is currently in the process of being read by beta readers. Apply to be one here!

One to five game

Q&A (open at any time!)

Tagged as #the secret portal, #tsp, or #teaspoon if you want to give it a nickname. #tsp updates and #tsp excerpt are used as well. All characters get their own tag and #alium will be used when talking about my world building

Ask to be added to or removed from the tag list! @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet

School of the Legends

See linked intro post for more detail!

YA urban fantasy fairy tale retelling

International school for people with gifts (born with), majicks (learn), and curses (given).

Currently in planning stage but five chapters have been written.

One to five game

Tagged as #school of the legends and #sotl. Also use #sotl updates and #sotl excerpt, though not as often as TSP

Ask to be added to or removed from the tag list! @illarian-rambling @katwritesshit @wyked-ao3

I have a WIP questionnaire I have gone for BOTH TSP and SOTL!

Other Ideas

It Was All Just a Dream - (linked WIP questionnaire) high school senior gets an entire redemption arc via vivid dream

The Emerald of Secrets - temporary title for vague fairy fantasy idea

Perspectives - we watch the same event five times in a row from different perspectives

Eternity - temporary title for a supernatural detective story

The Others - temporary title for a sci-fi apocalypse story

There are more but these are the main ones

What I Post or Reblog

Updates on my writing

Tag games and ask games! I love them dearly but it may take a bit to reply! I have a lot piled up and not all of them are simple. But I will get to them!!

Writing from others

Writing advice

Beta requests, book announcements, and intro posts to help boost!

I try to keep things positive! If I see a negative post about writing I'll usually reblog it with some positive spin. Sorry if that's annoying but it makes me sad that people aren't happy about writing.

I always try to include image IDs to make my blog accessible - if something is incorrect or you have any suggestions for making IDs better let me know!

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Feral: First Christmas

Summary: It's Dean's first Christmas since being free and no longer feral. However it's only been a few weeks and he's not quite ready to do everything a typical Alpha would, especially one as famous as him. But Y/N has an idea up her sleeve to give him a fun Christmas experience...

Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader

Word Count: 1,500ish

Warnings: language, smidge of angst

A/N: Enjoy!

______

“Hey, Peter,” you said, quickly rushing inside the house, following him upstairs to your bedroom. He pushed open the door, Sam giving you a weary look before his gaze drifted over to the figure staring out the window. 

“He hasn’t moved in two hours,” said Sam. You shrugged out of your winter coat and boots, patting across the hardwoods in your wool socks. “Or talked. He won’t-”

You smirked when you saw Dean’s face, Sam cutting himself off. 

“Is he having a breakdown?” whispered Sam, Peter rolling his eyes at Sam’s overprotectiveness.

“No, no nothing so serious,” you said, lightly grazing your finger against Dean’s bonding gland, his body lax. You gently guided him to the bed, helping him sit and lay down, his eyes quickly shutting. “He was sleepwalking.”

“Sleepwalking?”

“I told you so,” mumbled Peter, heading for the exit. “Let me know if you’re going back out Y/N.”

“Will do,” you said, urging Sam out after him, gently pulling the door shut when you were in the hall. “And yes, sleepwalking. It’s incredibly common in formerly feral Alphas. Dean’s only about six weeks out from being feral so it’s expected. It normally stops around the three month mark.”

“Huh, never knew that,” said Sam, staring back at the door. “Sorry. I know I’m still a little nervous about him sometimes.”

“Hey. It’s understandable. Dean’s rehab wasn’t like everyone else’s,” you said, heading down the hall with him, Peter seeming to have grabbed your coat and boots for you. “So Christmas is in a few days. I wanted to make it extra special for him.”

“I mean we decorated the house and got him presents and everything in between. What were you thinking?” he asked. 

“He’s so nervous to go out in public. I know there’s still a lot of attention on him but I wanted to try and take him out. To walk through the light show at the park. Go ice skating at the little Christmas village there. Let him have fun without being afraid.”

“Y/N,” he said as we walked downstairs. “I thought you said it’s going to take him a long time to get to that point. How are you going to take him to the most crowded place in the city when he has to psych himself up to go visit Benny? In a private space?”

“I have an idea,” you said, biting your bottom lip. “But I need your help.”

Dean was grumpy the next day. He knew you were taking him out of the house that night which he didn’t have a problem with if it was to see Gil and Sophia at their place. But you weren’t telling him where you were headed just yet which meant your Alpha was in a mood. A mood you very clearly felt through your bond.

“Dean,” you said that evening, knocking on the doorframe of your room. He sat angrily on the couch by the fire, crossing his flannel covered arms and frowning. “Alpha. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to go wherever the hell you’re taking me, that’s what’s wrong.” You sighed and knelt down in front of him, Dean reluctantly letting you take his hands in yours.

“I know you know I’d never hurt you. We both know you’re scared and I don’t blame you. The media still very much wants to know all about you. It’s invasive and scary when all you deserve is good things in life.”

“I’m not ready,” he said quietly. “Please not yet.”

“If you don’t want to go, we don’t have to,” you said, Dean’s body relaxing. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.

“I can try.” You titled your head, Dean smiling back when he opened his green eyes, a gentle nod given to you. “There’s a lot I didn’t think I could do when I met you and you keep proving me wrong. I want you to keep doing that.”

“This will be fun. I promise. We can also come back home if you decide you don’t like it.” He hummed, scent nervous but a tinge of excitement underneath it. “But we do need to get you in some warmer clothes first.”

“Warmer clothes?”

Dean looked handsome in his tan wool hat and the new navy winter jacket Sam had picked up for him earlier that day. His winter boots squeaked when he stepped out of the car, gloved hands immediately grasping yours when you got out beside him.

“That’s a lot of people,” said Dean, watching people wandering around the Christmas village, his gaze assessing the scene carefully and ignoring the pretty Christmas scene before him.

“Smell the air,” you gently urged, Dean’s nose twitching up for a moment, his brow furrowing.

“That’s…a lot of Alphas,” he said as you pointed at the luxury buses in the parking lot, not the usual cars that would be there. “What’s-”

“Oh you kids made it!” said Sophia as she jogged over, giving Dean an extra big hug. He melted into it, Sophia kissing his temple. “You smell so tense, sweetie. Go have fun with the others! I think I saw Gil and Sam with Benny over by the ice rink.”

“Benny’s here?” he asked when you looped your arm through his, walking with him towards the entrance.

“Of course! All of the stage three and beyond Alpha’s from the facility are. Y/N had the idea of a field trip for everyone and their families so they could celebrate the holidays without any outside pressure,” she said, an Alpha you recognized from the facility coming up.

“Dr. Insler! Avery is asking for you over at the light tunnel,” they said. She gave a quick goodbye, leaving you and Dean to wander slowly inside. Dean stopped you both once you were there, his gaze wandering out as people shuffled around from one activity to another.

“How the hell did you shut down one of the most popular Christmas spots in the city two days before the holiday?” You shrugged, Dean shaking his head. 

“Sam did most of it. I just had the thought,” you said, Dean looking around at the lights, the decorations, a silly smile spreading onto his cheeks. “You deserve a night of fun along with all these other Alphas.”

He leaned in and kissed you slowly, grinning through it and lighting up your insides. “Thank you for making me come out tonight, for making a whole lot of messed up people’s nights.”

“You guys aren’t messed up. You’re just in need of some care,” you said, Dean giving you a side hug, kissing the top of your head. “So. Since this is your first Christmas in a very long time, what would you like to do? Skate? Games? Do the light walk?”

“That hot chocolate looks pretty good,” he said with a smirk. “Ladies first.”

You woke up the next day with a sore butt from a hard fall on the ice rink. Dean hadn’t skated since he was a boy but he picked it up again instantly, teasing you for having two left feet and clutching him the whole time. You hadn’t cared though. 

Dean had smiled the whole night and that boy deserved a lifetime of that.

You were surprised when you made your way downstairs and found Peter and Dean putting on their winter coats, Peter twirling a pair of car keys in his hands.

“Morning,” you said, getting a kiss from Dean, Peter going outside to start the car. “Where are you boys off to? Visit Benny?”

“It’s Christmas Eve and I realized, I haven’t done any shopping,” he said. You pursed your lips. You and Sam had both made it clear to Dean that having him was the best gift you could ever ask for. He pressed a finger to your lips and chuckled. “I won’t be gone long, just going to pick up a few things and then I’ll be home to wrap them.”

“Dean you don’t have-” He shushed you, pressing his forehead against yours. “The stores will be so busy-”

“And I have Peter and a hat and sunglasses. This is my first Christmas in forever and I sure as shit am going to do it the right way and make sure my family has gifts from me.” You stared at him, wanting to argue but if this was what he truly wanted, you weren’t about to stop him.

“Do you want me to go with you?” you asked, his head already shaking. “Alright. Be safe and have fun.”

“I will,” he said, pecking a kiss on your cheek. He slipped out the door, Sam padding downstairs with a yawn in his pajamas. 

“Is he going out alone?” he asked. You hummed, Sam nodding once. “Good for him. I know he wanted to pick out your engagement ring himself.”

You felt flush, Sam chuckling. “I told him I don’t need one. We’re already mated.”

“Try telling him that. He adores you,” he said, heading down the hall for the kitchen. 

You smiled, ducking your head down and feeling a flurry of warmth in your core you knew Dean would be feeling.

“Yeah. I love him too.”

___________

[peachhcs]

hughes!sister x will smith au ✰

→ samy hughes x will smith

or childhood best friends to lovers

→ mood board & masterlist

★ ☆ au background + timeline ★ ☆

they're family friends + have known each other since they were babies

they were always close, but they didn't start getting closer until will moved to michigan for his development program in summer of 2021 (also when samy met gabe, ryan, drew, etc.)

the guys don't believe will at first when he tells them he knows samy hughes & beg him to meet her (i assume she's fairly known because of her brothers)

samy and will grow a lot closer during those two years and by her senior year of high school and will's last year of ntdp they realize they may have feelings for one another after playing it off as a brother and sister relationship

will realizes his feelings in october when him and some of the guys see samy off for her senior homecoming

samy realizes her feelings a few months later in april when her and her friends decide to bring the guys to their prom since they don't get that experience

after prom, the two don't see one another for months because will is constantly traveling for hockey that whole summer, but they're still constantly texting and calling

they reunite at the draft in nashville! the entire hughes family is there supporting will

at the draft, samy and will realize that their relationship is changing

the confession doesn't come out until will's draft party that night

they're both nervous and afraid to ruin their friendship, so they deicide to give themselves a grace period where they can go on a few dates and see how it goes and if it goes horrible, nothing is ruined between them

obviously it goes well and they decide to start dating!

→ samy hughes:

samy (samantha) poppy hughes

younger sister to luke, jack, and quinn

she's very close with her brothers and they all have a two year age gap

birthday is january 17th, 2005!

she's 16 when will moves to michigan for ntdp and is now 18 in college about to be 19!

she played hockey growing up wanting to be like her brothers and was very good on the ice (still is)

switched to soccer full time sophomore year (10th grade) and now plays at the university of michigan

is roommates with dylan's (fake) younger sister, hannah which is a bit of full circle since luke was roommates with dylan at umich

luke's michigan friends love her and take her under their wing as their own little sister — especially ethan and mark

samy loves going to the yost for every home game as well as watching will's games on her computer whenever bc plays

even though she doesn't play hockey regularly anymore, she still loves the sport and will always have a special place in her heart for it

she becomes one of the best freshman on the soccer team her first year and helps lead the team to the ncaa finals for the first time in awhile. she wins her first national title her 2nd year!

our girl is ridiculously smart with a near 4.0 majoring in political science! will admires her so much how she can balance everything

she's about half a foot shorter than will and she always teased him when they were younger how taller she was before he had his growth spurt

she goes for earthy tones

she's very outgoing + extroverted + loves talking. she can and will talk will's ear off at any given time

will calls her "pretty girl" the most

→ will smith

younger brother to grace

they have a close relationship and will goes to her when he needs relationship advice (he did this a lot when he first realized he liked samy)

birthday is march 17th, 2005!

he's 16 when he moves to michigan for ntdp and is now 18 in college

he's been playing hockey since he could walk and would always play with quinn, jack, and luke when they were younger

he's now a forward at boston college and was drafted 4th overall for the san jose sharks

he's roommates with his best friend, gabe perreault

he loved going to samy's soccer games in high school and would always drag the guys with him and now he still loves watching her games online

he fell first and harder (gabe and ryan knew will liked her before will knew himself)

very much golden retriever energy

he's constantly calling and texting samy throughout the day to update her about his life at bc

will's a bit more introverted when it comes to new people he doesn't really know, so samy always does all the talking when they're together and he just enjoys sitting or standing beside her while smiling and nodding along

his clothes are her clothes whenever they're together, especially over the summers when they spend time together with their families

he likes neutral colors and doesn't wear bright ones unless samy picks out clothes for him or she suggests it (literally does whatever she says and the guys always tease him for it)

samy likes calling him "pretty boy" or "willie"

→ quick authors note:

hi! i'm joining the hockey bandwagon and writing my own au :) i know i sort of wrote a lot here, but i've got a lot of lore for these two and a lot of short blurbs written already to start publishing soon. i'm also open to requests for them and any of your own ideas too!! send things in & i hope you guys like this new au. p.s. i'm not an expert in hockey, but i'll try not to get anything wrong when writing, but bare with me :))

[dimepdf]

★  𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄 '𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃. + 𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. when you initially asked Neteyam, the eldest Sully son who also happened to be smitten for you, for more assistance with your Na'vi knowledge, he was happy to help with a more hands-on approach.

─── ☆ notes. saw the new avatar and the way i had to pause and react and take in every detail cause it felt so short,, i cant wait for the 3rd movie to come out while im pushing fucking 40 or something with kids. | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

─── ☆ length. 2.8k (21 min read) .

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni | mutual pining | friends to lovers | fem reader | pwp | porn with feelings | not movie canon | size kink | height difference | stretch marks | body worship | fluffy | confessions | monster fucking(?) | handjobs | fingering | grinding | manhandling | oral sex(f) | cute aftercare | not beta'd | title inspired by this song.

"You can't, Tuk!" Only grumbling at his two most annoying younger siblings who had been following closely behind him, Neteyam dismissed the two in the typical older sibling tone of irritation. 

Both of them were curious, like cats, to find out where he was going when he broke his patrolling routine and made the error of asking both their father and mothers for permission to spend the rest of the day helping you at the labs with your studies that you had been struggling with.

No matter how much he tried to pull both parents aside, at least one sibling had managed to eavesdrop, and then his plans of keeping it on the down low had fallen through like a domino effect. 

This was why Tuk was bouncing on her heels, trailing after her two bickering brothers, Neteyam and Lo'ak. "No fair!" She tantrums, adding to the chattering back and forth, "I want to see y/n too, how come you're the only one that gets to go?" 

With your parents being loyal scientists passionate for a change, standing alongside Jake Sully were a group of good hearted human beings that were allowed to stay on Pandora to live alongside the Na'vi colony. 

Given that you were the second less rogue lab baby, it was the story that set the stage for your loving and extremely intelligent life. 

Maybe it was the fact that you still had your two loving parents, ending up more bubbled and growing up to be more of a homebody constantly wrapped up in some sort of new experiment scattering around the lab despite working with people twice your age. 

Everyone had grown to feel like one big nerdy family within the lab walls. 

Neteyam tightly inhaled with his hand wrapped tight around the leather hand grip from the holster for his Ikran. He was starting to grow thinner and thinner with the patience of telling the little girl every excuse under the sun other than flat out saying that he just wished to spend time with you alone. 

Lo'ak, of course, had been no help in calming Tuk down; his motormouth only added fuel to the flame as he continued to pester him alongside her. 

"He doesn't want us to come so he can finally make a move on his girlfriend." The youngest boy teased. Lo'ak flinched away from his brother's attempt at kicking him in the shoulder with a knowing chuckle, the comment only made Tuk whine more in disgust.

Muttering an insult as he mounted his ride, Neteyam ignored the tightness in his stomach at just the mere mention of your name beside his hinting towards a romantic relationship; it was an odd pretty relationship you had with the eldest son.

“I won't be fawning, I'm just going because she asked me for help with her research.” Neteyam gave his siblings one more stern glare.

“And she's not my girlfriend.” 

Lo’ak doubled in laughter, fuel only added as Neteyam showed more signs of annoyance. “Research? For what, exploring each other's bodies?” Neteyam had only rolled his eyes at the lewd question, taking off just in time for Tuk to ask what the joke had meant. 

Neteyam had been to the labs a handful of times, whether it was to hang out with Spider, accompany Kiri to see her mother, or just keep a close eye on Lo'ak to make sure he would stay out of trouble.

But he felt like this visit was just different from all the others—more intimate, greeting the few familiar faces as you guided him by hand through the lab rooms. Ducking through doorways and crouching through cramped human sized halls to your quarters that had been cleared out for a separate space all to yourself. 

It had been an old rec room redesigned and rearranged to your liking to hold all your personal belongings and decor. What was notable to Neteyam was the lack of boring control panels, odd techy devices, and bland white furniture all over the rest of the lab. 

The usual white and blue alien sleeping pod had been swapped out for a netted hammock similar to the one he would use at home, making your room appear completely disconnected from the rest of the sterile and overly organized aesthetic. 

A long desk piled high with books and paperwork was located across from your resting place next to the hatch entrance door, taking up its own space next to the large window overlooking the forest below the cliff. Your desk served as a clear confirmation to Neteyam that you were as intelligent as you appeared.

To enter Neteyam had to duck down enough to fit under the sliding door frame. As he did so, he peered around your messy bedroom with big curious eyes, soaking up as much information as he could about the space you loved to lock yourself up in all day rather than with him. "Okay, so this is what I've got done so far."

He followed the slight gesture of your hand, following towards the splattered spread of canvas against the once white wall now covered in layers of small paintings and scribbled wordings, but there was once a portrait that had caught his eye the most, a towering blue warrior posed with a bow. 

You had painted him on your wall.

Neteyam exhales as his long fingers run against the textured wall, his ears folding back, expressing his hidden bashful feelings as he comes face to face for the first time with a beautiful mural of himself.

"Ah, don't touch it," The gentle grasp of his elbow draws his attention back to you, "it's still drying, dummy."  

Your entire hand could only manage to wrap around two of his large fingers as you used the bottom hem of your shirt to wipe away the smudged paint on his fingertips, the view allowing Neteyam to look down at you while swallowing at the peak of your midriff.

In a good way, your body was very different from his. In contrast to his towering frame, you were much shorter with skin a warm shade of brown rather than the light sky blue he was used to seeing around.

It was more enticing to Neteyam, you weren't like anyone else he was used to, not even similar to Spider. You were a woman for one, he couldn't help but find himself entranced by you just so soft and plush looking, especially as you stood before him collecting your art supplies from around your bedroom.

He liked the way you always seemed to exude confidence with every step you took. How whenever you were concentrating on a task, your expression would soften, biting at the skin at your lip enough to draw his attention to the shape of your lips.

“Okay, so sit for a moment.”

He does as you say and sits with his legs crossed in front of you while kneeling on the ground. He had managed to have a height difference that reached your collarbone even while he was seated while you stood in front of him. Neteyam felt a bit insecure under your studied, silent gaze, watching your eyes move down his body with an uncomfortable exhale.

It didn't help his anxieties much that you were a more hands on learner, blinking as your hand reached out to caress his face.

A shiver ran up his spine at the gentle brush of your fingers against his cheek. "Your marks are so distinctive, pretty," you complement breathlessly with the trace of your pointing finger against his temple.

His ears twitched, and before he could react, his tail wrapped itself snugly around the middle of your thigh and drew you closer to him.

He murmurs timidly, "Yeah, they're kind of just all over," Before his hands could rest flat on his lap, he gestures while briefly puffing out his chest.

His eyes were looking anywhere but yours, as he was almost close to purring under your gentle touch. He just couldn't trust how his body would react to anything else. It was a mental war, trying not to make it seem as if he was completely gawking at your body.

The lift of your shirt exposed that same part of your stomach that his eyes could only see but his hands longed so desperately to trace. Neteyam’s fingers twitched, making a fist before hesitating in his grasp on your hips, his palm engulfing your sides.

The sight of his thumbs not being able to touch caused him to let out a shaky breath.

You nearly fell over when he suddenly wrapped his strong hands around you. The only thing you noticed was the curious look in his large, yellow eyes that were raking up from your waist as you used his shoulder to help you ground yourself. "Can I see it?" he asks.

You took a moment to process what he was trying to ask before your other hand could instantly cover the pudge of your stomach. "Hm, sure." You finally nod, lifting your shirt just enough to reach the midsection of your torso. 

You had your marks in the form of a scar, a healed claw mark that stretched just below your rib, and a memory of the first time Neteyam nearly saved your life from a rogue Thanator that had wandered too far from its territory. 

His face winced as he tried to push back the dreaded feeling he still would get in his chest thinking back on that horrible day. His fingers stroke against the rough skin, gentle enough as if he were afraid that he would crush you between his fingers by accident.

"I'm sorry," he mutters shamefully. "I let it leave a mark on you." He felt as if he had taken an arrow to the chest, the clench that he felt nicking in his ribs with every flooded memory of having betrayed your parents and his trust by being unable to truly ensure your safety in his hands.

"I told you to stop apologizing. You saved my life, Neteyam." You reassure him, yet he would fail to feel the same way, his fingers continuing down the scar tissue low enough to reach the waistband of your pants. 

Neteyam’s fingers brush more towards your sides, his interest lingering at the hints of stretch marks on the skin of your hips. 

"And what about these?" Foreign were the marks embedded against your hips and the dance of his fingers as they dragged down the jagged lines under them, hidden under the waist of your pants. 

It was a daring request, meeting eyes with a soft gaze that had a flaming heat feel as if it were flowing through his veins. 

Peering down at him with a dark look that made the tug of his tail more inviting, you closed the distance, falling against him with enough reaction time to straddle his waist. “Aren't I the one supposed to be the one studying you?” you whisper 

“I don't mind, go ahead.” Your back arches as you encircle his shoulder with your arms and tuck yourself closer as Neteyam watches how you react. 

His hands had taken the place of his previous grasp on your thighs, his tail wrapped possessively around your midsection. “Ohe think ohe'm keye’ung love.”

The beating in his chest was dangerous, but so was the way you looked at him before your lips could meet.

Neteyam didn't consider himself to be much of a romantic, the closest he had come to experiencing true love was through the example of the close bond his parents shared.

But as he kissed you, suddenly it all just made sense.

When you pulled away, exhaling hard, all he could do was chase after your mouth. The proportions were only a bit off—not too much that either of you had any objections against—as he swallowed each moan and whine that would pull from your throat.

Neither Neteyam nor you have ever kissed anyone before, maybe it was the way it felt so right to just let each other's instincts take over, grasping and tugging each other tightly as if there were any possible way you could get any closer.

Pure lust was what had taken over as Neteyam felt you shiver under his fingertips, the tangle of your hand in his braids had sent a new, inexperienced spark through his body.

Neteyam hissed at the odd feeling that struck him like a wave. "Oh, sorry," you mutter with a lick of your lips, your arms still laced around him.

He hadn't understood what you were apologizing for at first until he had followed your pointed stare to his crotch. 

The feeling that had waved through him was now all too clear as you both glanced shyly at his bulging situation—that you had the guts to reach out and fondle before he could even process how to breathe once more. 

With a sigh of breath, Neteyam practically whines at the contact, too caught up with the pit forming in his lower stomach to feel the embarrassment he would have felt at the pitch of the noises that parted from his lips. 

You readjust yourself in his hold, wincing slightly at the death grip he had on your thighs. The small space you created was enough for you to fully get a better grasp on his length, disregarding the cloth that held his privacy and rubbing your thumb over the dark blue tip of his dick, smearing the precum that he oozed.

Neteyam doesn't know whether he wants to watch or squeeze his eyes shut, his expression pained, yet his body felt everything but. 

His breath was shaky, and his limbs were tensing with each fisted stroke. 

All he could do was tremble and moan as you jerked him off. "Ah, hold on, p–please." As he sagged forward and whimpered, Neteyam attempted to catch his breath.

His sudden deadweight forced you to fall backward onto your back, where you then caught yourself lying beneath him. You followed suit to the small moment of mercy, mostly for your own sake at the dull tiredness in your wrist.

Now that the position had not helped much to ease whatever was building up inside, Neteyam sighed at the newfound feeling of rutting himself against the soft skin of your leg that his dick was pressed against.

Wanting more of the skinship, Neteyam’s hands wandered to whatever they could grab, hearing you giggle slightly from the ticklish sensation. 

It was the guide of your hand wrapping around his wrist, guiding his hand lower past the waistband of your pants. He felt drunk watching the way your expression shifted at just the mere feeling of his long fingers finding just the spot where you needed him most. 

It was an otherworldly sensation that Neteyam was experiencing, feeling you tight around his fingers and pistoning in and out of you at a careful, almost unbearably slow pace with each thrust.

Even as you finished with your tense muscles clenching around him and a broken moan that made him shiver, a noise of encouragement would make him never want to stop praising you.

Once Neteyam got a look at his slick covered fingers, it was like a lightbulb had switched on.

Before you could even process the end of your orgasm, Neteyam had crawled down closer to your legs, leaning down desperately and tugging off your pants. Both of you still found the atmosphere light and comfortable enough to humor each other's eagerness. 

Your laughter faded into small gasps at the strength with which Neteyam had elevated you enough to bury his face into your pussy sitting crouched on his knees as if you weighed absolutely nothing.

The same tongue he used to shyly babble to you with is now showing its true talent as his fingers probe you open the twitch of your hips shift against his mouth, directing him straight to his tongue sucking at your clit. 

It doesn't take much strength for him to hold you in place, your entire lower half is lifted in his grasp, knees bent and held up against his shoulders, and you use your elbows to perch yourself up as your muscles clench from the pleasure of your orgasm.

Neteyam, who hadn't had much of a grasp on the ecstasy of climaxing, continued to suck and finger until you trembled all over and were begging out his name for mercy. 

He was practically boneless, and tears threatened to roll down your cheeks as he finally allowed you to collapse into a heap of putty mess flat on the floor.

You push out your arms lazily, beckoning Neteyam into your embrace as you tug him down to lay on his chest with each other's legs tangled together, panting the same breath. 

It was a comfortable moment of silence, listening to the matched rhythm of each other's heartbeat.

[multific]

The Deal (Part 2)

Aemond Targaryen x DarkSorceress!Reader

Part 1

Warning: Smut, mention of dark magic

Summary: You could never see your own future, no matter in who you searched for. You could only see bits and pieces of the future of people you would be involved with longer. So, when the handsome Dragon Prince wonders into your home, you only see small bits of his future. You knew what that meant. It meant that he was your future.

Everyone was shocked by the maiden at Aemond's side.

The Prince walked around the castle with the unknown woman with such confidence.

The Prince was very confident all his life, but now, now he looked like a new man, a new dangerous man.

Even his mother found it strange and required an explanation from her son.

"She will be my wife within a week. And when the Blacks will come for us, we will fight."

Wife?

Everyone thought it would be impossible to celebrate a wedding during such times.

Everyone found it shocking that all the flowers in King's Landing bloomed like never before.

The celebration and the exchange of vows happened just as Aemond told his mother.

And now, you were his wife.

---

"A child for a child." you said as Aemond entered your chambers that night. "They will come and take one."

"Tonight?"

"Yes."

"Can you stop them?"

"You know our agreement my Prince, sorry, Husband."

"I married you so no one would ask questions, they are already doubting our relations at it is! I held up my end of the vow, now you have to do your part."

You stood up from your chair, completely expressionless as you walked over to him.

"You do not tell me what I have to do, Dear Aemond."

"I am your husband."

"So? You believe the title holds any significance for me? You truly believe that I would care about that? I told you, Aemond, people will die, I will only save you."

"Then do not tempt me! Telling me about the attack and the death of a child! At least do not say it!" you smirked a little. "Please, don't taunt me with such things, things I cannot do anything against."

There was so much you wanted to say but decided against.

"I'm sorry." you simply said, it made Aemond turn quickly, he never heard you apologise before, given he didn't know you for long but still. 

You walked over to him and took off his eyepatch, it made him shiver with shame, you did notice.

You stepped closer as his arms moved around you, with one flick of your finger his hair fell around his shoulder and face.

You slowly guided him to your bed on your way you removed both of your clothes and laid him down on the soft bed.

"I wish to gain your forgiveness, Husband. I shall ride you all night into  pleasures you never felt before."

"I believe I have experience in that. You are... truly a sorceress, you enchanted me and made me weak but you also made me so much stronger." he let out a moan as you sank down onto his hard rock cock.

Your nails ran down his chest, marking his milky-white skin as your hips began their movement. When you made a particular movement, Aemond's hands flew to your hips, holding you, helping you go faster.

But he soon grew tired and grabbed your legs. He stood from the bed and walked to the wall, holding you against it at he continued to fuck into you.

Your moans were loud making all of King's Landing hear you. 

The sounds of sex filled the room and you felt and heard yourself getting more and more wet.

You let out a loud whine when his lips attached to your neck. He insisted on sucking that spot so sweetly as his hips never stopped their movements.

While he didn't speak a word, his thoughts ran wild. You heard him curse as he kept on going faster and faster, his movements getting sloppy as he began to reach his end.

But you weren't ready for him to stop, you ran your hand down his spine, giving him the stamina he needed to go on longer. Just as you did that, he suddenly changed, he pulled out and put you on the floor, forcing you softly to lay down on the bed as he moved behind you.

His hips had the perfect rhythm as his hand pushed your torso into the bed.

He dominated you like no one else before, simply because you never let them. Aemond was different, very different. 

You neared your end and so did he. You knew he wanted to pull out, you felt it in his movements, he was ready to pull out any second.

"Don't pull out, Aemond." you said as if your strongest spell was nothing compared to what you just told him, he felt like he was under a spell.

He kept on going deeper and faster. You could feel the tip of his cock reaching new depths. 

You loved it.

When you came your legs shook a little, he came with a loud groan as he pushed you harder into the bed.

In the beautiful afterglow, you always realize just how well you chose when you decided to take him.

---

The screams of agony.

Oh, how delightful you found it to be. It was something you always throughout enjoyed.

But as Aemond ruled, Aegon kept whining, ever so quietly but to your trained ears, he was loud and clear. Every movement, he screamed. And his thoughts, filled with anger, sadness and pain.

He was even more broken than Aemond.

You stood by the foot of his bed as a nurse helped him, he kept hissing.

"You are doing it wrong." as you spoke up the little woman screamed a little and backed against a wall. Aegon was just as surprised to hear you talk. "You are hurting him even more, which causes him to scream and he is keeping me from sleeping, you dumb woman." you watched as she picked up the cloth and just stood there like the idiot she was. "Leave us, for fuck's sake." she quickly left the room, your eyes followed her as Aegon kept staring at you.

"What do you want?" he asked, voice filled with rage.

"I can feel your anger. The King who never wanted to be. Where is your loving mother now? Oh, right, with your brother."

"I asked, what do you want?"

You watched his body, you knew he would survive, but you also knew he will not live for long. Should you help him? No, he was not who you desired.

"I want you to finally sleep so I can as well. I'm sure you heard, your brother kept me up all night. I wish to sleep now and you keep on screaming."

"I never made a noise, leave now, you witch!"

You let out a long sigh.

"I can make your pain go away. So you can sleep and so can I."

You walked over to his head, he did try and move but he couldn't. You lifted your hand and placed it on his forehead. 

"You should stop seeking your mother's love." you told him right before he fell asleep, you moved back to your room and headed to bed.

---

The day soon arrived.

Aemond will now face his uncle and he would come back victorious.

You did cast a spell on him to protect him and Vhagar.

You were not ready to lose the old girl just yet.

You watched the sky as Vhagar was ready. It will rain soon.

"My Love, I shall return soon." said Aemond as he walked over to you, placing a kick kiss onto your lips before mounting his dragon.

"I will wait for you." you told him as he flew off.

You closed your eyes and reached out to the darkness to make sure he was safe.

Aemond never fully knew about your powers. He knew you were extremely powerful, he knew that you liked to carve things into his door, he has seen you surrounded by darkness and he has seen the dark shadows, but he also didn't want to know. 

The darkness never scared him until he met you. When he met you and brought you to his home, he started to see shapes in the dark, but even if he lit all the candles in his room, there was always a dark spot that seemed to be watching him.

He never asked you about it either, too afraid of the answer. 

So, when he saw Daemon getting swallowed by the dark, he knew it was your promise. He knew it was your magic keeping him safe.

Right before he fell, Daemon threw his knife at Aemond as a last attempt to kill him, but the knife was taken by a dark creature.

Aemond couldn't wait to go back to you, he wanted to see you so badly.

As his uncle fell, Aemond thought, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment.

At that moment he thought, it was the first time that he was fully since you two met.

He felt so unsafe. How could he live without you for so long? He felt so vulnerable as if he could die at any given moment because you weren't there.

He wanted to see you, His Wife.

As soon as he landed he ran to you as you ran into his arms.

"My Prince is back. I knew you couldn't die but still, I was worried."

His hug tightened as he took a deep breath, smelling you, making sure you were really there.

"My Love." he said.

When did he fall in love? He wasn't too sure. Could it be the moment when he saw you smiling at Vhagar? Could it be the moment when he watched your eyes light up as you watched him walk closer to you?

Aemond wasn't sure when it happened, but it happened and now he didn't have anything that could separate the two of you.

He felt so free, free of the burden of the Blacks, now it was only you two.

Him, your prince and you, his wife.

A/N: I didn’t intend for this to get a Part 2 but here we go, many of you requested it so I’m giving you what you want. I hope you all like it, feedback, as always, is appreciated. 

Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  @mandoloriancookie​ @noname2246​

Additional: @draganaludoski​ @hopebaker​ @lolitaisreal​ @thenovelcarnival​​ @xcharlottemikaelsonx​​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[changbunnies]

After The Rain With You (18+)

♡ Pairing: Farm Boy!Changbin x Princess!Reader

♡ Genre: royal au, historical au, fluff, initially intended to be light angst but i got carried away with emotion like i did with the minho fic lol, forbidden love (i cannot help myself with this trope it seems), ending is sad / bittersweet (i'm sorry !!) but also leaves hope that they'll live happily ever after ;v;

♡ Word Count: 13.9k (this was intended to be under 10k but here we are lmao oops)

♡ Summary: Y/N, a princess bored and lonely, craved nothing more than to experience the world outside of the familiar 4 walls of her bedroom in the castle. Conjuring her bravery, she snuck out of the castle walls, eventually meeting a man that would change her life forever. Changbin, a local farmer who didn't realize she's the princess, formed a close relationship with her that ineveitably turned into a budding romance. But now, met with her last moments of freedom, she prepares herself to have one final sweet moment with him before they are torn apart.

♡ Warnings: references to a parent being deceased, discussions of feeling trapped and alone, strict toxic parenting

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): reader is not a virgin during the smut scene in this but changbin is the only person they've ever had sex with, bin vaguely has a southern accent / speech style because thats how i pictures farmers talking lol, petnames (sweetheart, darlin', gendered language such as good girl), lots of kissing, biting / marking, loose dom/sub dynamics, nipple play, oral (f rec), unprotected piv, multiple orgasms, creampie, pretty self indulgent ngl lol

♡ Notes: i got the title from a short pokemon novel, iykyk. this was intended to be finished before the new year, but instead it's my first fic of 2024 and i hope you enjoy!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Freedom; something simple in definition, but not in practice, those in high positions of power always holding it out of the reach of those below them who yearn for it. It's intangible in concept, something you will never be able to see with your own eyes or grab with your own hands, but it was something you always yearned for, more than anything– and in the short time you had it, it was pure bliss.

You never considered yourself a rebellious girl, always dutifully listening to your elders, commiting manners and elegance to memory, never questioning the role you'd one day be made to accept. But in the past year, you'd found yourself having a bit of a rebellious streak– in secrecy, of course, because you knew very well that there'd be consequences to pay should your mother find out.

It's not that you ever hated being the princess, or that you dreaded the responsibility you held to your kingdom– you just wish you'd been given more freedoms. Freedom to speak your mind, freedom to feel the grass beneath your feet and the sun's rays on your skin whenever you wished, freedom to explore, to make mistakes, to learn and grow and love the way everyone else in the world but you seemed allowed to do. 

For years, there'd been a blindspot in the castle's defenses, a small patch of broken wall that guards were never ordered to defend or monitor closely, as the country had not seen war or received threat from neighboring countries in your entire lifetime.

"We'll repair it someday," your father always said before his passing, though it never came to fruition. It was not because he passed that the wall never received construction, but simply because your parents always preferred to delegate funds to something more pressing than a relatively small breach in the outer walls of the castle.

Sure, the hole was unsightly when noticed, but it was outside line of sight for the townsfolk, and much too small to accommodate an army through– one person at a time, maybe two if you squeezed, could fit through at most. Apart from that, the fact that your father never used taxes to pay towards selfish things such as unnecessary castle repair gained your family high favor, with most commoners considering your father to be the kindest king the country had in centuries.

During the time your father was still alive, you often walked the streets as a family, talking to the commoners regularly and enjoying your time out on the town together, and you remember how it always felt like you were as normal a family as any other, too young to realize there was any difference between you and them.

You can still remember how your mother smiled then, when she held your hand while your father held the other, the townsfolk always doting on you, and how cheerfully your every day had been spent. Your mother was quite different now; she never smiled anymore, and when she did it felt so.. forced, sad.

Like your father took a piece of her joy with him when he went, and she was unable to reclaim it. And it was at that time, when she took on all of the king's responsibilities by herself, that she'd begun to treat you differently. Stricter on your studies, never allowing you to step foot outside the castle, shutting down any talk of letting you out on the town or interacting with anyone outside the castle's walls.

And now the whole kingdom, who considered you to be the country's most beloved princess, could scarcely remember what you looked like; and even those who could remember would likely no longer recognize you. You were a child when you were last allowed outside, and now you were a grown woman, still confined by her mother's strict rules.

Despite the reclusive life you were forced into, many of the commoners still thought of you fondly– at least according to word of mouth from the castle's maids and knights.

You were the daughter to a king and queen that were practically revered as saints, and many imagined that the reason you were always holed up within the castle was because you were studying dutifully, imagining that when you came to power someday, you'd be just as benevolent, kind, and intelligent of a ruler as your father was.

You certainly intended to live up to those expectations, because as stated, you don't hate being the princess by any means. You recognize that you have privilege, responsibility, and that people put their pride and faith in you even now, before you've ever even come close to touching the throne. But all that being said, it didn't stop your heart from wanting just a little bit more out of your life.

Simply put, you found it incredibly dull sitting inside the castle all day, the same lessons being reiterated day in and day out, as if you didn't already have them memorized by the age of 10. Eventually, your mother realized you had no further need for a tutor, and requested that the woman in charge of your education stop coming, but that didn't mean your afternoons suddenly became enjoyable; quite the opposite in fact. 

The joy you initially held over no longer having to spend your afternoon listening to the same drivel you'd heard countless times from a pedantic old woman evaporated with the realization that even without a tutor to occupy for time, you'd still be stuck in the castle all day long. Your mother never permitted you to leave, even if you promised you'd stay close to the knights that would accompany you, pleaded with her to let you do something other than sitting inside all day. 

But still, her stance on the matter never changed. You'd begun to resent her sentiments, to hate that you were stuck with nowhere to go and nothing to do. The country wasn't under any threat, your fathers death was an unfortunate accident, and as far as you knew you were well loved, so what did she need to be so protective for? Especially now, when you weren't even a child anymore; you just couldn't understand.

You’d spend your days staring out your window listlessly, wondering what the grass on the horizon would feel like beneath bare feet. It’s a shame that you don’t know; you were always scolded for taking your shoes off if you weren’t within your own room, and besides that, the ground is littered with dirt and cobblestone all the way up to the gates of the town, which you had never gone past.

Shouldn’t your youth be full of experiencing things like this? Why couldn’t you explore now and then settle down in the castle later in life? It didn’t feel fair that you were so clueless about the basic truths of the world, and instead had your brain filled to the brim with knowledge of etiquette and politics.

It was with those thoughts in mind that you planned to find the answers to all your questions and sate your endless curiosities by sneaking through the hole in the castle walls that had gone unattended to.

After the first time you successfully snuck out to experience all you’d been missing (which took months of diligent watch and preparation to ensure you wouldn’t be spotted from a distance by patrolling knights), you’d slowly made your way further and further away from the castle, testing the limits of how far you could make it each day, gauging how long it would take for someone to notice your absence.

To your delight, because you spent most of your days alone in your room, no one seemed to notice you’d ever been gone as long as you made it back before dinner was to be served. And so, you'd stay out until sunset, exploring the town you'd grown to only ever see from your window, making sure to wear the least expensive looking gown in your wardrobe, doing your best to blend in with the commoners.

Thankfully, the task was easier than you'd expected given that none of the townsfolk had seen you up close since you were a small girl. You were perhaps strange in behavior as compared to them, given how much you questioned what was around you, but certainly not one person suspected you were the princess– just a sheltered, perhaps eccentric, young woman.  

As you became more comfortable, and got closer to the town gates with each passing day, your excitement would grow exponentially; the world beyond the gates was so foreign to you, even more so than the town itself had been. From your bedroom window, the fields that lied beyond the town gates appeared so miniscule, and you only knew what lied beyond because you’d been told about it, not because you’d seen it for yourself.

It was this determination to discover what lied beyond your limited world view that lead you to meet the man who'd come to hold your heart for the first time. You remember how your heart raced when you first approached the town gates, how your eyes darted to every corner to try to take in every minute detail.

The cobblestone became sparse, leaving nothing but dirt road to walk on, the wheels of countless carriages and horses hooves indented in the path, leading both to and away from town. You’d been told numerous times that beyond this point lies the farms that fueled the town with their food, and resources such as leather and wool to create clothing, blankets, and the upholstery on your furniture.

And for the first time in your entire life, you were about to see it all up close with your own eyes, instead of vaguely from your bedroom window.

You knew their work was vital to the prosperous existence of your country, and you’d always found yourself wanting to know what it was like, to learn about how the world works not from a dull lecture or written text, but to experience it yourself, to truly understand the lives of the people you would one day govern beyond what you’d been told.

To say you had a curious mind was perhaps an understatement; you were always full of curiosity about the world around you, but simply being told about the world wasn’t enough for you to be satisfied. 

To experience with your own eyes, to feel with your own hands– that was what being alive was truly about, wasn’t it? You didn’t feel your life was meant to be spent wasting away in your room until the day you became useful.

If you spent your youth seeing the world, learning about it from your own lived experiences, wouldn’t that make you a better queen some day? To know the plight of the common man because you lived it for yourself? 

That’s what you wanted– the freedom to explore, to learn, to grow, and when the time was right, you’d accept your duty gracefully, and play the role you were meant to. But until then, there was nothing more you wanted than to feel the earth beneath your feet, to understand what a blessing it truly is to feel the warmth of the sun beaming down on your skin, to learn what it is that makes life beautiful to live. 

With a deep inhale to steady your racing heart, you took your first step outside the town gates, trying your best to not appear too nervous and draw undue attention to yourself. You conjured all the confidence you could muster into your steps, your short heels sinking into the pure dirt before you.

It was a clear spring day, the sun welcoming you warmly, as if confirming that this was a decision you were meant to make, that following your heart and exploring the lush earth is what your true purpose was. 

You recall how different everything felt once you were fully outside the town– it was almost unbelievable how green, pretty and vibrant the outside looked when compared to the dull, monotonous grays and dirty browns you'd met with inside the town walls. And even the castle interior, while still pretty and not devoid of color like the town often seemed to be, still didn't compare to the nature that lied before you.

You saw children running through the grass without shoes, freely giggling as they play what you assume to be some sort of game, one you'd never had the chance to play. They were utterly carefree, and so full of life; how you wished you could be the same– just kick off your shoes and prance through the fields and the trees without a care in the world, with nothing to weigh you down. What a joy it must be, to live innocent and free, knowing nothing but laughter and love. 

You took time to admire naturally growing flowers, to lean down to carefully caress the petals, to feel the grass on your fingertips since you’re much too scared to actually take your shoes off despite how bad you’d have liked to. Following the road, past the sprawling fields where the children play, you eventually came to the occupied farm lands, and it was there, just before the fields turned into seemingly endless forest, that you met him for the first time.

His was the last farm for you to observe, and it held a surprise that made you positively gasp in delight; animals! You'd always thought the farm animals you’d seen in your books looked so cute, and you always wanted to feel their fur or feathers, wondering if they were truly as soft or as coarse as they were described to you.

Was a sheep’s wool still soft before it was knit into a blanket, or woven into clothing? How did a chicken's feathers feel before they were stuffed into a pillow? It was something you were endlessly curious about. 

However, you certainly knew better than to just waltz up to an animal that doesn't know you, and especially not one that is on someone else's land. So you settled for quietly observing them from outside the farm's sprawling gate, a huge smile on your face as you watched the animals graze.

Even at your distance, it was still the closest you'd ever been to an animal other than a horse, and you simply couldn't get over how cute and soft they looked. Sheep, cows, chickens, ducks– all impossibly cute, and how you wished you could go and hug them.

You propped your arms up on the wooden fence, resting your head against them as you simply watched. It was almost funny how something so simple and normal to someone else's everyday life could instill such joy and wonder with you. And that's when you saw him; a single man walking out from his quaint cottage towards the back of the land, attending to the animals and filling up what you assumed to be their feed troughs.

His home, you noticed, was put together the same way most of the town was– with stone and clay, a simple but well constructed wooden door, and a decent sized chimney on the left that you were well aware was necessary to funnel out smoke from fireplaces in homes such as his. And it fascinated you how his home could look so different from yours when it was comprised of the same materials.

When put down simply to its parts, there was nothing that separated the castle from a commoner’s home other than the sheer size of it. Your mother would often tell you not to compare yourself, or the splendor of the castle to that of commoners or their homes, but you never saw any harm in doing so. 

You’re all human, and the only difference between you and them is that you were born into a royal family and they weren’t. You think she focuses too much on title, when to you title is worth nothing beyond a name. Still, while you recognize that while you aren’t different from anyone else in a biological sense, you are when it comes to status, and you wanted to use your privileged position for good when the time came.

That is another reason you wanted to see the country for yourself, to put yourself in the shoes of the people and understand them. How can you be a good queen someday if you understand nothing of how the world truly works, or if every decision is fed to you from someone else? 

Really though you have to admit, apart from all the good reasons you had to sneak out, you equally had selfish ones. But was it so wrong to indulge your curiosity? You’ve tried many times to push aside your thoughts and to understand why you must stay solitary in the castle all day, but try as you might, this is all you want.

To see, to experience, to feel; why was it only wrong for you to want that, and not for anyone else? Even if you’re the princess, you should still be allowed basic human freedoms– that’s what you believe, anyways.

You lost yourself in thought for a time, simply staring out at the scene of the man caring for his animals in front of you. You wondered if he was happy doing this everyday; was it monotonous, or did he take pride in it? Did he love his animals, or were they strictly the avenue he'd taken to provide for himself?

You also wondered what you would be doing if you weren't the princess; would you be a farmer's daughter, spending all your days in the fields with the animals like he does? It was oddly fun to ponder on, to picture yourself leading a different life than one you'd led up to that point.

Maybe it was a form of escapism, and maybe you had more grievances with your upbringing than you'd let yourself believe at the time. Either way, a smile once again made its way to your lips as you pictured yourself feeling the fluffy wool of a sheep beneath your fingertips, as warm, soft, and comforting as a blanket in your imagination.

The man took notice of you after only a few moments, because realistically, how can he not notice a girl blatantly propped against his fence, staring at his land? He was sure he didn't know you, didn't recognize you from any of the farming families that have homes adjacent to his, and he didn't go into town nearly enough to have made friends outside his small bubble.

So who were you, and why were you staring at him like that? "Do you need somethin', miss?" The burly man called out to you as he started to approach, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm.

"O-Oh, uh, no, I apologize," you stuttered out, feeling instantly intimidated as he came closer; not because he was an intimidating person per se, because while his eyes are sharp, they also have a unique softness to them.

It was his size that made you shrink back and feel small; you didn’t realize just how large the man was until he was practically face to face with you. Even the knights you’re met with daily, who undergo strict, intensive physical training, pale in comparison to the muscular physique of the man you in time came to know well.

You remember how he looked at you curiously, head tilting to the side as he watched you straighten your posture and take a step back from his fence. “I was just.. curious, about the animals. They’re very cute,” you explained and the man chuckled a bit, wiping his dirty hands on his worn trousers before stepping up to his fence.

“I take it you’re from the town then? Can’t imagine you bein’ that curious about my animals otherwise,” he replied pleasantly, a warm, sort of prideful smile on his face. It confirmed his suspicions as well– you were definitely not someone he’s met before.  

"Yes, I've only ever seen them in books," you explained further, a bit timid now as you suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you. You were sure a commoner of your age would never be as fascinated by the animals as you were; they see them every day, it's a normal part of life for them.

And you recall scolding yourself, really feeling that you needed to do a better job of hiding your lack of worldly experience when meeting new people so you'd stop having interactions like this. “I apologize again, I must appear very strange..”

“No need for that, sweetheart. I think it’s nice– I’m so used to bein’ around ‘em, that I don’t really stop and take it all in anymore. Reminds me of what I got, so thank you for that,” he replied kindly, his smile spreading an unfamiliar warmth through you in that moment.

He was very, very kind, and you appreciated that he didn't judge you or find you to be a fool for your innocent curiosity. "I could show you around, if you'd like. Let you meet them," he offered, and you positively beamed, though you really should have shown some restraint in the matter.

"Could I really?" you couldn't help but ask eagerly, eyes sparkling with pure wonder and excitement at the prospect of seeing so many things you'd never encountered before up close. “Course, just come ‘round to the front” 

With no hesitation, you eagerly turned and began to sprint (in quite unladylike fashion, you might add) to where you saw the gate to his property some time earlier. You could hear the man's laugh carry even as you ran (not advised in the shoes you were wearing, but you carried on nonetheless), stopping just in front of the small, modest gate.

You waited for the kind man to catch up to you, not wanting to do anything rude or presumptuous by stepping onto his land without being specifically directed inside. "You took off so fast, you didn't give me a chance to introduce myself," he laughed as he approached you again, and your face immediately flushed, embarrassed by your excitability over everything.

"Name's Changbin," he introduced himself warmly after he opened the gate for you. You smiled timidly, giving him your name as well and a polite bow after you crossed the border onto his property. “Pleasure to meet you, Changbin.”

"Likewise," he smiled as he closed the gate behind you, and it was then that your first true friendship began. In hindsight, it occurred to you that you should've given him a fake name; and while he did ponder on why your name seemed familiar to him, he didn't ever appear to put together that you were the princess.

What was clear to him was that you were from a wealthy family; after all, that was the only explanation he could reach to decipher some of your "odd" behaviors.

Your boundless curiosity, your utter excitement for the mundane, an unmatched passion for all the small things in life that he'd never seen before in anyone else. A light in your eyes as bright as the sun, filling him with warmth and adoration, your wonder and inquisitive nature both pure and infectious. 

He asked you once, what it is your family does, if being from the "high society" part of town near the castle is what made you live a sheltered life, why you seemed so (respectfully) clueless about things beyond the scope of inner-town workings and politics.

You were surprised when he asked, and confirmed what he suspected, though you left out some of the very important details. After all, how could you tell him that the girl he's become friends with over the past few months, didn't just live near the castle– her home is the castle.

But you divulged what little you could, confided in him that your mother has high expectations of you, that she doesn't know you spend your days with him at his farm, that if she did know she certainly wouldn't approve, and he seemed to understand.

While he may not be a high born man, he's no stranger to how haughty they can be, what with their superiority complexes and luxury goods, as if it's not working men like him that provide them with what they consume in the first place.

You weren't like that in the slightest– you were good, pure natured, with an infectious zest for life that he couldn't help but find his own joy in. Seeing you interact with the world, the happiness you gained from the simplicities in life, the wonder and curiosity you held for all things, both small and grand– it was a trait of yours he'd come to adore.

You learned from him just as much as he learned from you, and you truly reminded him how beautiful life is, how there is magic even in the mundane, what a gift it is to have, to be, and to feel. Changbin introduced you to so much, shared so many parts of his life, and you were truly the happiest you'd ever been, always looking forward to the next day you could go out and see him again.

"Have you ever ridden a horse?" he asked one summer afternoon when you were in stables together, you sat on a hay bale while you watched him care for Dolly, a beautiful, black and white dappled horse that belonged to his mother, whom she named such due to 'her mane being as beautiful as a porcelain dolls.'

"Does being escorted in a carriage count?" you asked, and he laughed, shaking his head in amused disbelief. "No, darlin', a carriage don't count," he said, smiling as you pouted ever so slightly.

You were still a child the last time you were even in a carriage, given the fact that your mother never permits you to leave. You wondered what's more enjoyable; your memory of your last carriage ride is so faded, you wondered if you could even compare the experiences, were you to ever ride a horse.

As if sensing your thoughts, Changbin made an offer that once again made you beam, radiating joy and excitement. "I could teach you how. Or let you ride with me," he offered and you were eagerly nodding without a second thought, jumping straight to your feet.

"I'd love that!" Changbin returned your smile, promising that once he got Dolly situated in a saddle, he'd take you for a ride while telling you everything he knows and answering any question you may have about it, no matter how small or seemingly silly and "common sense."

He helped you up onto her back, making sure you sat comfortably on the back of the saddle, both your legs dangling over one side of her body due to the fact that you were wearing a dress. Changbin got up onto the saddle with ease, carefully not to accidentally hit you with his leg while making his ascent. After he was settled in front of you, he instructed you to wrap your arms around his torso, as it takes time to become adjusted to the movement of the horse and naturally find your balance.

You wondered if he could feel your heart race when your chest was pressed against his back, how your palms grew sweaty from holding onto him, how your face flushed every time he called Dolly a "good girl." You wondered what it'd be like if he said the same to you, if he praised you after he encouraged you or taught you something new.

The more comfortable you got, the more he allowed Dolly to pick up speed, until she was going around the enclosed pen in a brisk trot, your arms squeezing Changbin as you giggle joyfully, feeling the wind brush by your ears and pull back your hair. It was so fun, so new, another experience Changbin granted you that you wouldn't otherwise have ever had the chance to have.

When you were finished, as the sun was beginning to set and it was time for you to get home, lest your mother send a maid to summon you for dinner and find you absent, he jumped off Dolly first. He then held out his hand to you, offering for you to take it, promising he'd make sure you got down safely.

And he did, letting you squeeze his hand as you made the unfamiliar leap off, his opposite hand coming to your back to ensure you were stable on your feet after you landed. His hand lingered on your back even after it was apparent you were steady, and yours did as well, still holding onto his other hand even though you no longer had need to.

It felt as though there was a shift between you– both staring carefully at one another, a suggestion that you could be something more than this, that there was a connection beyond that of just friendship. Slowly, with the same smile for you he always had, he pulled his hand away from your back, but didn't make you part from his other hand, letting you hold it even as he walked you to his gate.

And you felt a stutter in your heart, unlike any you'd ever felt before then, returning his smiles happily, your cheeks dusted pink as you thanked him for the afternoon and bid him goodbye. Every once in a while you'd turn back just to see him still watching you, offering a soft smile and wave each time your gazes met again.

Then, there was the time you were inside his chicken coops with him, Changbin having taught you much about how to properly care for the animals in your time near him. And after weeks of observation, you wanted to help, to really try your hand at it! You did well, for the most part– your error came when trying to get a hen away from a freshly laid egg.

You tried your best to follow Changbin's instructions carefully, but still, your inexperience was greatly apparent, and you ended up upsetting the poor thing. When she flew up in protest, it startled you so much that you fell backwards. But Changbin caught you, one of his strong arms wrapped around your back and holding you upright as if you weighed nothing at all.

You blinked up at him in surprise, face growing red as he asked if you were alright, your heart unexpectedly pounding. You muttered out an apology, voice much meeker than you wanted it to be, but he simply smiled. He helped you steady yourself again to stand on your own, ensuring you that it wasn't your fault, and that he could tell you were genuinely trying your best.

"No one gets it right on their first try, don't be discouraged. You did good, sweetheart," he said, and the words somehow made your heart race faster, face growing even pinker. You were certain then– you liked him as much, much more than a friend.

You wanted him to always praise you, to console you, to call you sweetheart in a way beyond platonic. You wanted him to look at you romantically, to call you by such sweet names in a moment of love and passion.

When you returned home that day, lying in bed after finishing dinner and washing up, your thoughts were plagued by him– much more than they usually were, and in completely different contexts. How would his strong arms feel under your fingers while he held you up, supporting all of your weight as he took you in every way conceivable, across every surface of his home.

You'd had.. less than pure thoughts before of course, so it's not like this was new to you– what was new was having an explicit object of desire, someone you wanted to lie with, someone you imagined touching you everywhere. And you wanted to touch him too, to pleasure him in all the ways he'd surely pleasure you.

There were many times you watched him work, sweat collecting on his forehead, dripping down his brow, his breath growing heavier with labor, his broad chest rising and falling quickly with exertion– would he look the same atop you, under you?

You could imagine him, his body heavy between your legs, pressing you down against his mattress. And you could imagine him staring up at you, those same grunts of effort he makes while working pouring out for new reasons, for your hands all over him.

God, you were driving yourself crazy thinking about it. Changbin noticed, on another summer day where the sun was high and hot and leaving him sweatier than usual, that your face too was hot and red. What he didn't realize was that it was for reasons beyond that of the sun beaming down on you.

"C'mon sweetheart, let's go inside. It's hot out here, ain't it?" he'd said, deciding it was time, for both your sakes, to take a well deserved break. You agreed, thankful beyond words he thought it was simply the sun making you a heated mess, and not how absolutely divine he looked chopping wood in preperation for when the weather would change in a month.

You sat on his sofa together, sipping on lemonade he made himself by hand, thankful to be out of the unforgiving sun (and to have something to focus on besides how attracted you were to him.) "You seem to be thinkin' a lot. What's on your mind, darlin'?" Changbin asked after it was quiet for a time, your cup of lemonade held in your lap as you stared off at unfixed location.

"I've.. come to like you quite a lot more than I expected. As more than a friend, I think," you answered honestly, though you didn't expect him to do anything with your feelings.

While he was your first real connection with someone, you were sure he's lived a full, experienced life. You felt that there was no reason for him to like you as you like him, but still you told him. You already hid enough about your life from him, and you didn't want your thoughts and feelings to be another one of those things you keep from him.

"I'm fond of you too. More than a friend, and more than you probably know," he replied with a soft smile, setting his empty cup to the side. You blinked, cheeks turning pink as you practically gaped at him. "Do you mean that? Sincerely?" you asked, heart thumping loudly as you too carefully set your cup aside.

"I wouldn't lie to you darlin'. 'Specially not about matters of the heart," he responded earnestly, carefully moving closer to you. You met him halfway, slowly, your eyes timidly meeting his as his hand comes towards you, resting heavy but soft on your cheek.

"Tell me truly," he almost whispers, face coming close enough to yours to feel his breath tickle your skin, "Do you want to kiss me as badly as I want to kiss you?"

"Yes," you breathed out, and not even a full second later, his lips were on yours, plush and soft, butterflies filling your stomach and truly, you couldn't ask for any greater joy than that moment.

You kissed a lot after that– in greeting and in parting, sweetly, slowly, carefully, sometimes even urgently, needily, passionately. You'd help him with as much of his daily work as you could manage, so he could finish faster and you could spend the rest of the afternoon holding one another close.

Hands exploring anywhere and everywhere, both eager, both seeking more and more and more. Both indulging in the feeling of not just pleasure, but of closeness, intimacy beyond just the physical, the love and care you share for one another.

But as quickly as your happiness was obtained, it was taken away; unbeknownst to you, on an afternoon in mid fall, shortly after breakfast, a knight had seen you squeezing through the hole in the castle's wall, eager to spend yet another day with Changbin. He didn't think you were sneaking out at first– he thought maybe he was just mistaken on what he saw.

But when he stepped over, and it became clear that you were now nowhere to be seen, he had to inform your mother, as was his duty. And there are truly no words to describe how devastated you felt when suddenly, as if from nowhere, countless knights were surrounding you, pleading with you to return to the castle, lest they have to drag you back by your mother's command.

It became a spectacle in the street, commoners whispering amongst themselves as they tried to piece together what they were witnessing. Was the sweet, smiley girl they’d seen exiting and returning to town everyday for months really the princess this entire time?

You felt as if your entire world was collapsing as they escorted you back home, your heart squeezing painfully in your chest, knowing your mother would be positively furious when your eyes next met. But no, she wasn’t just furious– she was livid, the angriest you’d ever seen her in all your years.

You pleaded with her to understand, assured her that if you were truly going to run away from home and abandon your responsibility, then you wouldn’t have returned every single time you’d left. You didn’t want to be stuck here all day, every day, bored, alone, depressed, when there was an entire world out there to see, people to talk to, experiences to be had.

You’d do everything expected of you as a princess, and later as queen, but please– just this one thing, allow me this one thing. But no, your pleas fell on deaf ears, your mother completely dismissive of your feelings and unwilling to bend her iron rules.

And so you once again became a prisoner inside your own room, tears streaming down your cheeks as you stared at the edge of town from your window, Changbin so near, yet impossibly far. Your mother didn’t know of him; you didn’t tell her, nor would you ever, as things stand now– but how you wished you could tell her, “I’ve found love, and now I understand how truly a magical thing it is. I don’t want this to be the end of my joy.” 

Weeks passed, and while the pain never left you, you learned to manage it well enough, hopeful that you’d be reunited with Changbin someday soon. But then you saw them– carpenters, working diligently to fill the hole in the castle walls that you had repeatedly used for your daily escapes.

The color drained from your face, your heart sinking into the very depths of your stomach. Your plan to simply be an obedient daughter long enough for your mother to lessen her watchful eyes on you, to one day again leave the castle once her constant vigil had relaxed, was being thwarted before it could ever truly begin. 

You anticipated to be in this act for the long haul, knowing very well it could take months, or even years, to rebuild your mother’s trust in you, but you’d never imagined she’d take away the very source of your hope mere weeks after confining you away to your room. To call a hole in the castle’s defenses your “hope” may seem foolish to most, but it was all you had– a symbol of escape, of life beyond these four walls that had become your permanent home. 

The day it was filled would be the day you’d lose everything; your freedom, your friendships, your joy, your hopes, your dreams, everything. Even as you are now, a canary trapped in her gilded cage, the promise that simple flaw in the walls gave you kept you going– the promise that someday, even if it was years and years from now, you’d be free again, doing what you loved most, being with who you loved most. 

You know your mother cares for you, she wants the best for you, and the loss of your father, the king, much too soon has deeply scarred her. She fears for you, she keeps you ever at arm’s length because she can’t bear for you to part from her, to leave her behind the way your father had, but surely this isn't the answer. Surely there was something better than this, something that didn’t necessitate you being a prisoner in your own home. 

Fear of loss and devastation ruled her life, made her trap you lest you decide to leave and never return, failing to realize that it was her very actions and treatment of you that gave those fears of hers room to become reality. But to know heartbreak is to know truest love, and even should loss plague your life, you will never regret having discovered love.

You had no desire to abandon your family, your kingdom, or run from your responsibilities, but if that was the only way to be free, if there was no other conceivable way to experience life’s joys and warmth, then.. What else was there for you to do?

Ironic, how your mother had unwittingly created a self-fulfilling prophecy when she forbade you from living a life of your own, her own actions resulting in the very outcome she feared most of all.

You have to do something, anything, now, before it’s too late, and you are left with nothing but the fleeting memories of the man you hold so dear. You bide your time, waiting until nightfall when the carpenters have left for the night to make your move.

Your mother has posted knights to the spot now, instructed to keep a watchful eye should you try again to leave the premises, but you think with the right timing, you can slip out unnoticed. There’s a small window of time where, when the knights standing guard rotate shifts, the hole in the castle’s walls will have no one standing in front of them.

It’s risky, and if you’re too slow you’ll be spotted by the new knights taking over for the ones who departed, but it’s the only chance you have, so you need to take it. As soon as the knights previously keeping watch over the area get far enough away, you dart for the breach in the castle.

The hole is definitely smaller than it was before, but you still manage to squeeze past just fine, with seconds to spare. You hear the sounds of the new knights approaching as you begin to sprint away, luckily having not noticed anything amiss.

The streets are much different at night, the subtle illumination from the candles in the surrounding buildings hardly enough to point you in the right direction. You look to the horizon instead, hoping that the dark line of trees on the horizon will be enough to guide you to the gate leaving town.

Some who notice your desperate run call out, concern evident in their voice, but you can’t stop for them, can’t stop until you’ve made it to Changbin’s side. And though it is not without struggle, you do, eventually, thankfully, find your way out of the town.

You’re panting, chest heaving as your heart pounds and your lungs desperately try to suck in air once you’ve made it completely outside the town gates– but still, you aren’t where you need to be, so you can’t stop yet. Pushing yourself to your very limits, even as your legs scream at you and harsh cold pricks your skin, you can finally make out Changbin’s land in the tree-lined horizon.

Reaching the gate to his property, you push it open in haste, taking hardly any steps past the threshold before you collapse to your knees, the ache and exhaustion refusing to be ignored any further. You bring a hand to your heart, taking a few seconds to calm yourself and breathe before you attempt to rise back to your feet.

But your legs refuse the action, much too weak to support you beyond what they’ve already done. It’s good enough, you suppose; they’ve carried far, with much more urgency than you’d ever thought possible. And now you’re right here, so close to where you need to be– and despite being a princess, you’re not above crawling your way over to Changbin’s door if you must.

Once more, you try– and though weak, and unsteady, you are able to rise once more. You can’t run, can hardly even walk as sore and as exhausted as your legs are, but they carry you as far as they can, recognizing the urgency you feel, aiding you as much as it can in your last, desperate effort.

Your throat is dry, it hurts, but you call out Changbin’s name regardless, hoping he’s awake, hoping he hears you, hoping he’ll wrap his arms around you, kiss you, console you, even if it’s just this one last time.

It’s been over a month since the last time Changbin saw you, and there’s so many questions he can’t help but ask himself, that he wishes he could ask you, so he didn’t spend all his hours distracted with worry and self-doubt. There had been gaps in the time you spent together before, but never for this large of a duration of time– a week usually at most.

Did he do something wrong the last time you were together? Or did your strict mother finally learn of your deceit, and now made you keep away, unable to return to his side though you may have wished to? He just wishes he knew for certain what it is, so that even if he was saddened, he did not have to have his mind consumed by what if’s and uncertainties.

There was a time, even, where he considered going into town and asking of you, but he was worried that doing so would only create more problems for you if the wrong person caught word of his inquiries. So all he could was wait– wait, and hope, that you would return again before year’s end, and that he would have the answers he so desperately craves to his questions.

Most of all, he just hopes you’re well; you’d expressed more than once that you loved your life and your family, you just didn’t want to feel trapped. You wanted to have choices, to feel like your thoughts and opinions matter, to be allowed to live as most other people do when they are not burdened with what their future will be.

Whenever you spoke of home, he always found it unfair, and he felt for you. You loved your mother, dearly, but he could see how you struggled with her rules, how sadness lingered in your eyes and resent bubbled up within you despite how you tried to not feel such things. 

And though he understood why you could not, he wished at times that you could simply stay with him– to not have to depart the moment the sun began to sink, to lie in bed with him all night, to have breakfast and dinner together, to live without worry together.

He’d work hard for you, even harder than he does now, and it’d be worth it to see you smile at him as you always do, so bright and full of light, keeping each other company on your loneliest days and nights. Changbin sighs, exhaustion plaguing him as he sits before the small fire he has going in his living room, head falling back against his sofa.

He hasn’t slept well these past few nights– he just can’t help but think of you at all hours, and every time he closes his eyes to sleep, he’s met with the image of you. It keeps him up, though not all his thoughts of you are plagued by unpleasant worry– sometimes it’s simply just the image of you smiling or laughing, and he feels nothing but warmth, even as he is reminded how much he truly misses you. 

Should you never return again, for whatever reason that may be, he doesn’t think he would ever regret having known you and given his love to you. Short-lived though your romance may be in the grand scheme of his life, and all the years he may be blessed to live, it was of the utmost importance.

He’d be remiss to let those memories become tarnished or devalued. You reminded him of how much joy there is in life, how grateful he is to have what he does, how much beauty there is in even the smallest of things. 

Another sigh leaves his lips as he lifts his head, rubbing carefully at his weary eyes– he should probably try to rest soon, though he feels sleep will likely stay out his reach for some time after his head hits the pillows. He stands from the sofa, preparing himself to extinguish the fire and head to bed, when he hears a strange, unfamiliar sound from outside his door.

A thud, almost– as if something with a not insubstantial amount of weight thumped to the ground. It couldn’t be his logs; he knew the sound of falling logs well enough to recognize the distinct sound made when one toppled– and often times when one fell, more followed.

This was unlike that entirely, only one sound followed by silence, and the sound itself was still too dense to be one of his pieces of chopped wood. The sound felt more.. concentrated; an animal perhaps? And if it was an animal, he couldn’t let it go ignored– especially not if it was one of his own. 

As Changbin steps closer to his door to investigate the sound, he hears something else entirely unexpected– a frail voice.. your voice..? Rushing to his door now, he opens it in haste, eyes darting to find the source of what he heard. And there, he sees you, collapsed to the ground before him, looking up at him with a mix of relief, exhaustion, and anguish.

Your name leaves him in a gasp as he leans down to you, concern evident in his voice and expression. His hands reach out to touch you and shit, your body is freezing; you are woefully ill dressed for the late fall chill, and who knows how long you’ve been out in it with nothing but your dress. 

Quickly, he picks you up, carrying you inside and using his foot to kick the door shut behind him. “Just sit here a minute,” he says as he sits you down on the sofa, rushing to his room to grab all the blankets and pillows he can carry.

He prepares a sort of makeshift bed on the floor in front of the fireplace, laying down all the blankets and pillows he collected, his intention being to have you lay by the fire and spread some much needed warmth through your chilled body. Changbin scoops you back up when he’s satisfied with his work, very carefully laying you down a close (yet safe) distance to the fire, nestling beside you after and laying an additional blanket over your bodies.

He has so many questions, his mind is racing, but they can wait– making sure you’re not going to suffer frostbite is of much more importance. He lets you use him for warmth, not complaining a bit when your cold limbs tangle with his, letting you sap his warmth and take it for your own. 

He brings his hands to your face, warming your cold cheeks in his palms, looking you over carefully. You looked unhurt, thankfully– he has no idea what you’ve gone through, but he’s glad you’re here now, and looking well, all things considered.

“Do you want to tell me what’s happened?” he asks softly, pushing the fallen hair away from your eyes, letting him meet your gaze without obstruction. You swallow down your bubbling emotion, wanting to be clear and concise, to leave no room for confusion or error. 

“My mother is very strict, as you know.. She enforced her rules more harshly after she discovered how I’d been spending my time. I had to sneak out again just to be here,” you answer, and his brows furrow.

“Again..? Have you been sneaking out to see me all this time?” he asks, and you nod, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Changbin knew your mother had strict rules, he knew she didn’t approve of her daughter meeting with those of lower class, but that wasn’t the extent of it? 

This whole time, he thought your lie to your mother was simply that you exited town– not that you left home entirely. He was under the impression that you were still allowed out on the streets, at the very least; not that you were caged up inside all day like some sort of bird. But this.. This was outrageous, cruel. To not let your daughter out of the house at all? That’s what you’d been dealing with this entire time? 

Relationships with parents are complex, but he almost can’t even believe you still love her after all this, that you still want to uphold whatever ambitions it is that she has for you; if it were him, he doesn’t think he could stand it. He followed in his parents footsteps because he wanted to, not because he was forced to.

And he doesn’t imagine you’d be much different from him in that regard. Naive though you may be at times, you had a strong sense of responsibility, and were intelligent in matters he was clueless on, a completely different kind of intellect from his own. Surely she didn't have to be so strict with you.

“You can stay with me,” he wants to say, “I’ll never make you do a single thing you don’t want to do, you’ll always be respected and happy.” But he knows you’d refuse, your sense of pride in yourself and responsibility simply too strong to abandon just because of one obstacle, harsh though that obstacle may be.

In equal measure, you don’t think you could ever ask him to stay with you. How much would he have to give up to be with you? You don’t want to ask that of him– to make him give up his home and all he holds dear just to be stuck in the castle with you. He doesn’t even know you’re the princess in the first place.

And though you love him, it’s painfully apparent that you’re in two separate worlds that may not be destined to converge though you wish them to. “I don’t want this to be the end,” you say, hot tears finally starting to fall as you the emotion unleashes itself from the depths of where you’d pushed them down, “I don’t want this to be the last time I see you.”

God, Changbin feels like his heart is shattering. It’s so painful to see you reduced to this, you who is always so bright and vibrant in her joy, brought low to tears and heartache. Why must you endure this? Does your mother truly not understand how much pain she causes you but not allowing you to simply live?

“Don’t think like that. If you say it’s the end, then it will be,” he whispers, the pain in his own voice evident despite how he tries to hide it behind a mask of strength for your sake. The tears flow from your eyes and you let him rub them away with his thumb, let him fill your head with impossible, sweet promises.

Your whole life was clouded in dreadful, dreary rain, and there’s nowhere you wanted to be more after the rain cleared than with Changbin. What a ray of sunshine he was, even without intending to be– the light that illuminated your otherwise dark existence. And how painful it was to know that come morning, it would all become nothing but a memory from your youth. 

You lean forward to kiss him, tears continuing to leak from the corners despite having your eyes closed now. You want to tell him you love him, but you fear that saying so will only make the act of parting that much harder and painful.

You fear that no matter how much time passes, the name of your first love will forever be written in your heart, that you will never stop loving him even should you lead lives separate from one another. And still, you have no regrets, because for a time you felt truest joy and love, and what a gift it was to share with him. 

Taking his hands from your face, he pulls you closer, your entangled limbs being woven together more complexly, your torsos now completely flushed to one another. His arms wrap around and hold you tight, as if lessening his hold on you would cause you to dissipate.

And you will disappear, but not now– not while he has you like this, not when you are where you long to be most. Your tears slow, eventually receding completely as your lips touch. If this is truly your last moment together, you have decided you will not spend it wallowing in sorrow– you will enjoy all you can, you will memorize every detail, you will etch it in your very soul.

“Are you warm enough?” Changbin asks after he separates from you, though still close enough that his breath lingers on your lips. “Could be warmer,” you answer and he chuckles softly, kissing you again, his hands roaming down the expanse of your body, to your hips. 

“Want me to add more to the fire?” he asks, a playful lilt in his voice as he knows that’s not what you’re insinuating. While you normally speak quite openly and honestly, you become.. meek within intimate moments.

Changbin always finds it incredibly cute, how you dance around what you mean, waiting for him to get the hint and give you what you want. He always gets the hint, but it’s adorable to see your blush grow hotter, to see you stumble with your words when he plays dumb about what you mean, or purposely misunderstands just to make you state what you want clearly. 

“It certainly wouldn’t hurt, but..” you trail off, chewing on your lip nervously as you meet his eyes again. He raises his brow but says nothing, smiling patiently as he waits for you to speak your mind. It makes the blush on your face flare, how he always waits for you to say it directly when you want to be intimate with him.

However, he doesn’t intend to waste too much time making you flustered like this; it’s just.. If this is the last time like you seem to believe, then he wanted to see it again now, before the opportunity was lost to him. 

“I’ve missed you a lot, you know. I want you to touch me,” you finally answer and his smile brightens, furthering the embarrassment you feel as heat rushes to your face. But better than being cold like you were earlier, you suppose; maybe you should welcome the way his reaction makes you feel, since it never fails to make your face and body hot.

“You missed me, darlin’? I missed you too,” he smiles, kissing your face, your lips, your jaw, your neck, “thought about you every damn day.” His low voice near your ear makes you shudder, his soft kisses down your neck, to your shoulder, furthering the feeling.

You never let him mark your skin, afraid of what consequences would come from your mother finding out what you’d been doing, but you’re tempted to let him tonight– if you’re going to be punished regardless, why not be selfish, go out with a display?

“Binnie, leave a mark on me, please,” you shamelessly plead, calling his name in the way you know he loves to hear you speak. Changbin lifts his head from your shoulder, meeting your gaze with uncertain excitement. God, he’d love to, but..

“Are you certain? What of your mother?” he asks carefully, pushing your hair behind your neck to expose more of your skin. He may be apprehensive out of concern, but the minute you make it clear you have no reservations, he’s obliging without restraint, giving you everything you ask– anything you want, you’ll have it. 

“I don’t care what she thinks anymore, I want her to know that I.. have someone I love,” you answer sincerely, and he smiles, his heart feeling like it’s expanding in size. “You love me?” he asks, and you return his smile as you nod, because though you were scared to tell him, you are glad you did. His reaction to the information was completely worth it, his eyes sparkling with deep emotion and fondness for you. 

“I love you too. More than you probably know,” he says, mirroring what he said when he confessed that he liked you too, and he lets you pull him into a kiss, your affection radiating. There’s a soft giggle that escapes him, not being able to help how giddy your love makes him feel, how you love him despite what people in your life expect from you.

If he could, he’d assure them all how well he’d take care of you, how he’d make sure you never suffered a day in your life because of him. He suspects your mother doesn’t care much about your happiness, but if she did, if she gave him the chance to prove it, he wouldn’t rest until he gave you the entire world, until she could see your love as true. 

You lay your head back to the pillows, tilting it comfortably so that Changbin has more access to your skin. His breath warms you, and you all but tremble with anticipation when you feel his lips on you again, knowing your skin will finally bear his mark after all this time.

You’ve seen such a mark briefly on your maids that you know to have lovers, how they try to hide them with their hair or makeup, the sort of shame and embarrassment they feel when they realize you’ve noticed it. You will have no such shame; you will wear them proudly, in a show that is simultaneously of love and rebellion.

"I have and I know love, and that is all that matters." And people will certainly have opinions, but you’ve sacrificed enough to them. If there is only one day you can live selfishly for the rest of your life, you want it to be this day; and even as the marks fade, they will serve as a reminder of what you once had. 

He plants open mouthed kisses to your neck, the feeling of his tongue and teeth grazing you adding to the anticipation you feel. Your fingers tangle in his dark, unruly curls, as he carefully, almost gently, sucks and bites at your supple skin, leaving behind a string of beautiful, red, blue, and purple bruises.

There’s a tinge of pain, yes, but the excitement grows beyond the subtle sting, transforming it almost entirely into pleasure. When Changbin’s finished with one side, he lies you on your back and does the same to the other, your eyes fluttering closed as you tilt your head for him to have more room to work.

You unintentionally tug on his hair when his teeth meet a particularly sensitive spot, and you would’ve apologized had he not groaned in delight from the feeling. You learned something new about him every time you were intimate, and this discovery in particular had your stomach flipping.

“Want you to take it off,” he mumbles in reference to your dress, pulling at the fabric that had begun to bunch up at your thighs. You hum, detangling your hand from his hair and letting him sit up, watching as he lifts his own shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside.

In all the times you’ve seen Changbin’s skin bare, you never stopped being amazed at how divine he looked. He was so big and strong, it always left you breathless, his cute, soft stomach a direct contrast from the bulk in his arms and chest. And then there was the small patch of hair that led from his belly button to the waistband of his trousers that always left you hungry to see the rest of him. 

Still feeling a bit weak from your exertion prior, you ask Changbin to help you remove your dress, which he is more than happy to do. He’s careful with the fabric, though you’ve decided you don’t care about it at this particular moment, and he sets it aside with much more care than he did his own clothing. What a gentleman he is, you think, taking the extra time to care for your clothes even when he’s met with you bare before him.

Well, not entirely bare– you still have your undergarments on, and after deciding you’d see Changbin today no matter what, you purposely wore your prettiest pair. A beautiful, intricate and delicate white lace, one you might aspire to wear on your wedding night. He looks you over in awe, taking in all your details. You were always beautiful, but your choice in clothing somehow enhances it, drives his excitement even further. 

“Fuck, you’re stunning. How did I get so lucky?” Changbin questions aloud and you smile, a soft giggle escaping you as he leans back down to kiss you. “Take your pants off too, otherwise it isn’t fair,” you playfully complain and he grins, letting out a giggle of his own as lifts himself back up.

“Maybe I spoil you too much, giving you everything you want so easily,” he responds to your complaint with one of his own, trying not to smile so that he appears serious– though you are easily able to read that he’s playing around, just as you were. 

“You give me everything I want because I’m a good girl for you though, right?” you ask and he whines audibly; you admitted early on in your sexual relationship that you were curious about being called such things. When he tried it out, it was discovered that he liked saying it just as much as you liked being called it.

It’s not just saying it to you that he likes either– hearing you call yourself one, saying it’s just for him.. that’s what really gets him going. And while he doesn’t want to be presumptuous and say you belong to him, especially not after all you’ve suffered through, he definitely belongs to you.

You don’t anticipate Changbin pulling his underwear down with his trousers, but the sight of his cock is never unwelcome. It’s already hard and leaking, and when he leans down to you once again, you can feel it pressing against your bare thigh, smearing its fluid on your skin. It always excites you how hard he gets from your body, always enjoyable watching him get riled up just from looking at you bare or from saying a few sweet words. 

“You’re dangerous,” he says with a small huff, and before you can come back with more words to make his cock throb, he’s kissing you again, this time with much less softness, quickly shoving his tongue past your lips.

You welcome it, opening your mouth for him, letting his tongue lick yours. The feeling always makes you light-headed in the most delicious way possible– it’s intoxicating to put it simply, and you would kiss him for hours and hours if given the chance. 

His hands come to your bra, unhooking it easily after all the practice he’s had, and though he could easily toss it aside, he breaks away long enough to set it down gently. You giggle at how he’s still treating your clothes with care even while this hard and eager, but that’s what makes you love him so much.

Returning to your mouth, he nips and sucks at your bottom lip, and you mewl at the sting, which Changbin always gladly soothes with his tongue before repeating. His fingers roll, pinch, and tug your nipples, not too hard, but enough to have you whining and squeezing your legs together.

They were always so sensitive in Changbin’s rough, calloused hands, and there were times you felt you could cum simply from the stimulation of them alone– especially when he used his mouth at the same time. And he did just that when he pulled away to stop kissing you, though not right away.

He kissed all over your chest, leaving love bites and sucking small, almost delicate bruises onto the sensitive skin of your breasts, not yet touching your nipples with his tongue and teeth. You told him to mark you, and it seems he was determined to do it everywhere– not that you had any objections. It was a bit strange, seeing your chest bitten and the color of your flesh changed, but you equally enjoyed it, loved the physical proof that Changbin was on you. 

When his tongue finally swirled around one of your nipples, you let out a breathy moan that quickly turned into a drawn out whimper when he used his teeth. He made sure not to hurt you too overtly, to just give you enough of that sweet sting you found so enticing and pleasurable, and in return you gave him that same delicious feeling by tugging on his hair every time you felt good. 

Your panties were soaked by the time he stopped giving your breasts attention, and though you hadn’t reached your peak from the stimulation, you felt so close. Resuming his path down your body, Changbin’s cock throbs and twitches when he’s met with evidence of your excitement, your white panties darkened by how damp they’ve become.

He doesn’t pull them down right away– he kisses your legs first, and then your thighs, leaving behind the same kisses and marks he gave to your chest and neck. Your inner thighs are especially sensitive, and it causes you to jolt and whine when he sinks his teeth into the meat of them.

He’s got you so impossibly worked up, you feel like you could cry when he finally gives your neglected heat the attention it craves. He praises you before he slides your panties down your legs, and there’s a relieved sort of noise coming from your throat that makes Changbin chuckle. 

You keen when his tongue finally slips between your folds, licking and sucking up everything you have to offer him. There’s an enthusiastic hum that leaves his lips when your fingers tangle in his hair again, followed by a moan when you pull and tug. Your legs are trembling and twitching so much, constantly threatening to close around his head, that he has to push them down to keep you how he wants you.  

It’s when his tongue meets your clit that you really start to lose yourself, your hips jolting up and back arching, legs quivering when he wraps his lips around it and sucks. You’re panting, begging him for more, incoherently mumbling and babbling about how close you are, and within seconds you’re seeing white, eyes rolling back as further arousal gushes on his face.

He licks your release up with another eager hum, dragging out the feeling until you’re a quivering, overstimulated mess beneath him. You release your hold on his curls when you finally come down from your high and your body relaxes, opening your eyes to see Changbin grinning at you, evidently proud of the fact that he got you to cum so intensely.

He kisses you softly, quick and chaste, not trying to hinder you from taking any of the breaths you need, just wanting to show his affection. “What do you want next, darlin’? Since I’m givin’ you everything you want,” he asks, rubbing soothing circles on your skin as he awaits your answer.

“W-Want to be on top but.. I’m still feeling pretty weak. Especially after that,” you reply with a slight blush, and he giggles again, cooing at you as if you’re just so sweet and cute (and to be fair, you are– you always will be, at least to him.)

“S’okay sweetheart, I can help you,” Changbin says sweetly, giving you one more kiss before he’s lying down on the makeshift bed and pulling you on top of him. Your legs are on either side of them, his hands on your hips, looking up at you with pure affection. 

“This good? Comfortable?” he asks, and you hum with a nod, smiling just a bit as you lean down to kiss him again. Normally, given how thick he is, Changbin would prep you before having you take his cock, but given how wet and excited you are, he doesn’t think the prep is as necessary (and you might not be patient enough for it after all the build up to this point regardless.)

He helps you line yourself up with his cock, both of you letting out your own shaky noises as you sink down on him. “Atta girl, keep goin’, just like that, sit on me all the way,” he encourages you, and you do just as he asks.

Your hands tightly gripping his biceps to ground and support yourself as you sit flush with his body, the back of your thighs meeting the top of his. He rubs your thighs and legs, trying to show soothing affection as you adjust and settle, listening attentively to all the trembling exhales and noises you make. 

You look so beautiful atop him, illuminated in the gentle, warm glow of the fireplace, your hair having fallen in a way that messily, yet somehow perfectly, frames your face. He can see everything– your breasts, your stomach, your thighs, beautifully painted with all the marks he left behind. You can feel him twitching and throbbing inside you, but he doesn’t rush you along, lets you take all the time you need. 

You feel him twitch again when you lean down to kiss him, and it’d make you giggle if it also didn’t make a wave of pleasure shoot through your body. You move your hands to his chest to support your own weight better, rolling your hips as you coax your tongue into his mouth.

He lets out a moan from deep in his chest as you move, his tongue wasting no time in meeting and dancing with yours, his fingers squeezing at the already tender meat of your thighs. You lift yourself back up to begin moving in earnest, your hands still planted firmly on his chest for support as you slide yourself up and down his length.

The slow pace, while it still feels good, isn’t enough for either of you, and soon enough you find yourself practically bouncing on his cock, the sound of your thighs repeatedly slapping down on his echoing into the room. Changbin curses, biting his lip as he watches you, using his hands to help guide you up and down, trying to ease some of the ache in your legs. 

He thrusts upward into you when your pace starts to stutter and lose rhythm, and you gasp, eyes rolling back as he hits the perfect spot again and again. It reaches a point where his hands simply hold you in the right place while he exerts all his effort, feet planted firmly on the ground while he does all the work from below. Your nails dig into his skin, head falling back as you feel your release building up again. 

Changbin effortlessly flips your positions, though he is careful not to hurt you in his haste. He just wants to make you fall apart again, and it’s easier to do that if he doesn’t have to control your movements– just his own. He resumes the pace he held from below, bringing two of his fingers to your clit and rubbing in quick circles, unable to help the way he moans when he feels you clench around him even tighter in response. 

“B-Bin, please, Binnie, so close,” you babble and whine, your hands twisting the blankets beneath you. “I know sweetheart, let go, be a good girl and give it to me,” he grunts out, and again, you feel white hot pleasure coursing through your veins, your vision blurring and mind growing fuzzy as you let go.

“Good girl, just a little more, just need you to hang on for a little more,” he both instructs and praises, pulling out just long enough to flip you to your stomach, pushing back into your heat just as quickly as he left it. You whimper loudly, fingers clutching desperately at the pillow your head rests on, Changbin bringing a hand around your body to lift your hips ever so slightly.

He was hitting your spot deliciously from this angle, the pleasure so great that tears once again pricked the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall with each gasp and whimper you released. You turn your head back as much as you can, delighted in the visage of Changbin’s head thrown back in pleasure, 

He always got rougher when he started to get close, his hands always tightening their grip, his thrusts, while growing less rhythmic, became harsher and faster, almost desperate, and it was always a treat to experience. You loved watching him lose himself to the pleasure, loved that it was you and your body that brought him there, loved how his grunts and moans transformed into higher pitched whimpers and whines. 

You bring your own fingers to your clit, wanting to let him enjoy and focus on his release since he already spent so much time on your pleasure. He leans forward, his chest pressed into your back, his hot breath hitting your ear, his whines and praises pouring directly into it.

“Fuck, sweetheart, feel so good, ‘m gonna- fuck, gonna fill you up,” he stammers out, and it sends a shiver down your spine, your stomach erupting in countless butterflies, driving you to speed up the motion of your fingers. 

You release again with a strangled cry, gushing around his length and on your fingers. Changbin follows closely behind, the feeling of you clenching and squeezing around him as you cum for the third time sending him over his peak. He releases in long, drawn out spurts, both of you breathless and exhausted when he collapses next to you.

You both know you should get cleaned up, but you’re both too tired to care, and he can always clean up his messes in the morning. For now, he just wants to stay close, here in front of the fire, with you. This very well could be your last night together, but he doesn’t want to believe it is. He wants to believe that the two of you can find a solution somehow, that after all the hardship, you’ll be smiling at him in the end.

There’s a part of you that doesn’t even want to fall asleep at all– you want to stay up all night, to not waste a single moment you have left, to stare and feel and love until the very last second, so that you’ll remember him clearly always. You do your best to not become teary eyed again, having promised yourself you wouldn’t spend your night with him wrapped up in your sorrow and dread.

But oh, how you wish there was more time, how you wish that your mother would understand you, that you could have just this one thing. But you suppose for a girl with immense responsibility, happiness is too much to ask for. You sacrifice your happiness so that others may have it instead– as noble an act as any, but you selfishly wish you could have both; the people’s happiness and your own. 

The idea of running away still leaves you torn, even after all this time. You don’t want to let anyone down.. but still, you have to ask yourself, is doing what’s right for your kingdom and future worth all this heartache? If it’s what is right, why does it make your heart feel as if it’s been shattered like glass? You’ve been told in life that the right thing to do is never the easiest, but you can’t imagine that in this case, walking away from either side is right. 

You want both. Is that truly so wrong? You want to be a ruler worthy of her name and title, and you want Changbin. Why must you choose one over the other? As far as you’re aware, even now, Changbin doesn’t know you’re the princess.

He’ll likely find out soon– every knight in the town will be floundering to find you come morning, once they realize you’re gone. You should slip away before then, lest your lover be met with undue scrutiny and unfair treatment from your mother and other nobles if you're found here. 

But looking at him now, even still.. you don’t want to leave. You’ll never want to leave. “Sweetheart,” Changbin calls softly, his hand reaching up to leave comforting, lingering touches to your head. “I can tell what you’re thinkin’. But don’t be sad yet, not ‘til we’ve said goodbye.”

You blink away the accumulating tears with a nod, swallowing down the lump in your throat the best you can and burying your face into Changbin’s welcoming body. You’re so, so tired, and you know he is too, but he’s trying his best for you. And he’s being the strong one despite how much his heart aches with yours.

He rubs your head, kisses your temple, tells you he loves you. Your heart breaks and mends all at once; how bittersweet this moment is.. If you’re lucky, you'll have about 7 hours until anyone realizes you’re gone. Maybe you can sleep for just a few, just enough to get some of this ache out of your body, and then you can spend the rest with Changbin. 

You’ll cry, you know, as soon as you depart back home. You’ll cry when the hole in the castle’s defenses is completely sealed. You’ll cry when you look to the fields his home sits on from the bedroom window. Still.. you do your best to uphold your promise to yourself, and now to Changbin.

You won’t cry, and you won’t be upset– not yet, anyways. Not until you’ve actually parted ways. For now, you’ll continue to lie in his arms, continue to express your love for him, continue to smile and laugh as if this isn’t the end, until morning comes and reminds you painfully that it is. 

How beautiful it was to love Seo Changbin, to learn and to grow and to really live with his help, patience, and care. How fondly you’ll miss him in every moment, how lovingly you’ll always hold his memory. Brief though your love together is, much shorter than it should have been, it has changed you for the better, and you’ll never regret it, even should your heart ache.

And maybe Changbin is right; maybe there is room for hope, and maybe you’ll see each other again much sooner than you allow yourself to think. But no matter what lies before you, there is one thing for certain; Changbin is and always be will your first love, forever be etched in your heart– your lover, your deepest connection, your closest confidant. And how grateful you are to have known him.

[inspiredrawaw]

The Eclipse team!

Myrvin McGrove a star mage apprentice and next in line for fox protector of the local forest.

Jaxie Richard a knight in training who also works really hard to have a social life

Lemon “Lemy” Blixt a lemon orchard farmer who is very tired and is the life that gives you lemons

Charlotte Richard, a sneaky rogue of the land and also Jaxie’s sister!!! Family dinners are a bit tense

And now things I’ve changed for the design and whyyyyyy and how it fits in the storrryyyyyyyyyyyyy

First off! I had no desire to draw these characters for a while which told me that I needed to change some things to make them exciting to draw again.

Now originally this story was set in a modern world and the characters were placed into a fantasy world. I apparently don’t like modern settings for my stories so full on fantasy we go! I’m also a SUCKER for fantasy give me full control of the world to sandbox in

Because of this some designs were changed.

I changed Myrvins deer mask to fox because I feel like it’s a better insight into this guys character and there is a fox constellation! I also already have a deer character in my other story Opal Reapers and I didn’t want repeats

And due to my experiences with (hopefully temporary) vision loss I wanted to change a bit on how Myrvins vision loss worked. Such as having a short white ID cane that’s great to help with depth perception and having his mask cover 1 eye to make things easier for him. I did change his scar to be more star shape and his cape to look like that of a fox!

Now Jaxie, jaxie has been the one name from when these guys were septic ego OCs that kept the name so I also switched it and put an x in there. X marks the spot for Myrvins affection apparently and also probleeeemmmsss. He needs a break! 👏👏👏 went for more knight armor but kept some elements from his previous design such as ginger hair and his double lit candle tattoo. And the red hoodie that is his STAPLE

LEMY!!!!!! I love Lemy. So I never shared this character but they were suppose to be a guide for Myrvin in the original fantasy world. But now they don’t need that and I still wanted a reference to the original title dealing with orchard. But we already got our red character so yellow it was! Our sour lemon lantern orchard farmer. I designed her hat to look like a straw hat but still be part of her head design I am so happy with it. Also gives scarecrow vibes

AND CHARLOTTE!!!!!!!!! GOD SHES FINALLY BEEN GIVEN TRAITS DEAR STARS. So originally went from being Jaxies brother, to goth sister named Charlie, to now Charlotte problem was that I didn’t know what role she played in the story. She’s a lesbian mess with a knife I love her. She’s a rose both pretty and will slice ya. Big dramatic anime villain vibes for someone who is not a villain. Both Charlotte and Jaxie are trans because I think it’s funny to think that they were told to share as kids and shared everything including their gender and never asked for it back.

The story is still gonna revolve around the Solar and lunar Eclipses drama and poor communication skills and take up Myrvin and Jaxie as there champions as celestial entities DO. Which I shall design….. eventually

ANYWAY if you made it down here thanks for reading let me know what you think.

[foxes-that-run]

But Daddy I Love Him

Daddy I love him is an Ariel quote, when Ariel gives up her voice for love. Taylor has given up love for her voice (career), but also not spoken up for what she wants most. But Daddy I Love Him is a continuation of a theme of how fame and fandoms have affected Taylor's personal life. What I love about this song is it sounds like an older Taylor Swift song, she embraces a country sound and speaks her mind.

While the parallels to the reaction to a relationship in May 2023 can be seen, this overlooks much of her experience with this behaviour. I don't mean to say it is not an element, but it is far from a complete story to say it is about ending a 3 week relationship with someone about whom she also said "And I'll forget you, but I'll never forgive" on the same record.

In her NYU Graduation address in May 2022 Taylor had part of the concept in this already swirling in her mind, a full year before she dated Matty Healy:

Having journalists write in-depth, oftentimes critical, pieces about who they perceive me to be made me feel like I was living in some weird simulation, but it also made me look inward to learn about who I actually am. Having the world treat my love life like a spectator sport in which I lose every single game was not a great way to date in my teens and twenties, but it taught me to protect my private life fiercely. Being publicly humiliated over and over again at a young age was excruciatingly painful but it forced me to devalue the ridiculous notion of minute by minute, ever fluctuating social relevance and likability. 

What Taylor is referring to is the treatment by the media and fandoms throughout her career, but this was never more of an issue than 2012-2014. Nothing is a terrifying as a teenager on fledgeling social media. This TikTok creator describes it perfectly:

From tabloids, twitter, tumblr, even people who looked like Taylor were abused.

So yes, Harry has had and worn t-Shirt with the song title for years, and yes they have both dressed up as Ariel. But that is not all that makes this song about Taylor loosing her love over fan behaviour... it's because she did. She lost the love she wrote 1989 including "This love left a permanent mark / This love is glowing in the dark"  about. And it continues today, there are a lot of people who still call Harry's partners vile names and think it is OK to treat others poorly because they suggest he could care for someone. I think anyone who's read this far knows exactly what I mean, probably first hand.

This affected Taylor the point the Clean Speeches on the 1989 Tour were on this topic, every night she talked about bullying, self worth and holding onto love.

The 'Daddy' is not just the fans and media, but probably her team also. I think the varied shapes in the CDs are to show this comes in many forms and roles, not just one experience. As Taylor said to Rolling Stone in 2014 before 1989 was released:

Lyrics

[Verse 1] I forget how the West was won I forget if this was ever fun I just learned these people only raise you To cage you Sarahs and Hannahs in their Sunday best Clutching their pearls, sighing, “What a mess” I just learned these people try and save you ‘Cause they hate you

For the international fans like myself 'How the West was Won' is a 1960's film about American colonisation. I think the opening 2 lines do 2 things, place us in a country setting and also tell us Taylor cares more about speaking her mind than what may be higher bigger goals.

The second half of this verse goes on to set out that it is fans who are approaching her love lost as trauma porn, and I am here for it.

I also note the cage reference, Taylor (and Harry) have a long theme of being caged or trapped by fame, she has a literal cage in her Nashville apartment, he has a cage tattoo and they have used cage, glass boxes, fishbowls, snowglobe imagery. Here she points out the fans are not really there for her, they are seeking to control her.

[Pre-Chorus 1] Too high a horse for a simple girl To rise above it They slammed the door on my whole world The one thing I wanted

The pre-chorus furthers that the final straw has been broken, she's been cornered by fans to give up something she cares for.

Vigante Shit "Ladies always rise above / Ladies know what people want / Someone sweet and kind and fun /The lady simply had enough"

Is It Over Now? "I was hoping you’d be there and say the one thing I’ve been wanting, but no"

That is the only time Taylor has sung about ‘wanting one thing' before. This also reminds me of the Delicate Behind the Scenes, where she said she got a note from a lover and wants to be with him but realises 'it can never be him'

[Chorus] Now I’m running with my dress unbuttoned Scrеaming, “But, Daddy, I love him I’m having his baby” No, I’m not, but you should see your faces I’m telling him to floor it through thе fences No, I’m not coming to my senses I know he’s crazy, but he’s the one I want

In the chorus Taylor acts out a churlish child yelling at a father. The 'daddy' is many roles, her actual parents, fans, media and probably record company and PR people who told her she could be with the one she loved, throughout her life. She says the matching line to Harry's Kiwi, which has the same meaning.

Taylor 'floors it through the fences, fed up and unwilling to listen. This is great imagery, to break through fences, and also as metaphorical fences that have been placed around what considered acceptable for her. Cars are also a Haylor theme, including Run below and often used as a metaphor for their love escaping as it is here. (All I know is that you drove us off the road / Let’s get out of this town, drive out of the city, away from the crowds)

Is It Over Now?: Was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse?

Run: And my so-called friends, they don’t know I’d drive away before I let you go

In Kiwi Harry yells a tabloid line followed with it's none of your business. In his Harry's House ONO complete with pointing at the camera and crowd. Taylor also referenced these same tabloids headlines in the Reputation magazine.

Kiwi "I'm having your baby / It's none of your business"

[Verse 2] Dutiful daughter, all my plans were laid Tendrils tucked into a woven braid Growing up precocious sometimes means Not growing up at all He was chaos, he was revelry Bedroom eyes like a remedy Soon enough, the elders had convened Down at the city hall

In the second verse Taylor establishes that she has gone everything asked of her:

Style - "I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt"

Style - "So it goes, he can’t keep his wild eyes on the road"

Yet is denied freedom and the elders decree the match is unsuitable. I think the elders are her team. She describes the muse as chaos and revelry. This is very reminiscent of the I Knew You Were Trouble introduction poem, but while in 2012 Taylor was contrite and said it was too much she now revels in the revelry:

"And the crazy thing is I don't know if I'm ever gonna feel that way again, but I don't know if I should. I knew his world moved too fast and burned too bright, but I just thought, how can the devil be pulling you toward someone who looks so much like an angel when he smiles at you? Maybe he knew that when he saw me. I guess I just lost my balance. I think that the worst part of it all wasn't losing him it was losing me"

[Pre-Chorus 2] “Stay away from her” The saboteurs protested too much Lord knows the words we never heard Just screeching tires and true love

The 'daddy' has now forbidden the love, this is reminiscent of Love Story: "And my daddy said, “Stay away from Juliet”

[Chorus] And I’m running with my dress unbuttoned Screaming, “But, Daddy, I love him I’m having his baby” No, I’m not, but you should see your faces I’m telling him to floor it through the fences No, I’m not coming to my senses I know he’s crazy, but he’s the one I want

'Crazy' and Madness are a Haylor theme, particularly in the Blank Space music video, and these lyrics

Wonderland "And in the end, in Wonderland, we both went mad"

Kiwi "She's driving me crazy, but I'm into it (Oh) and "It's getting crazy, I think I'm losing it, I think I'm losing it"

But many more songs:

[Post-Chorus 1] I’ll tell you something right now I’d rather burn my whole life down Than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning I’ll tell you something ’bout my good name It’s mine alone to disgrace I don’t cater to all these vipers dressed in empath’s clothing

I love the last line, vipers dressed in empaths clothing, that is exactly what they are.

[Bridge] God save the most judgmental creeps Who say they want what’s best for me Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I’ll never see Thinking it can change the beat Of my heart when he touches me And counteract the chemistry And undo the destiny You ain’t gotta pray for me Me and my wild boy and all of this wild joy If all you want is gray for me Then it’s just white noise, and it’s just my choice

The only time Taylor has described someone as wild in lyrics is in Style "So it goes, he can’t keep his wild eyes on the road"

Afterglow "Chemistry until it blows up"

I love the end of the bridge, elsewhere on the record Taylor describes her long term relationship as grey, staid and boring. For many years some fans have shoehorned this person into lyrics because they want to see themselves in her, as they settle down they want her too. From my point of view some rather loud warning signs in songs were overlooked, or seen as 'she's remembering the past/when they first got together' to avoid accepting she was unhappy and wanted out.

Out of the Woods "The rest of the world was black and white But we were in screaming color"

[Verse 3] There’s a lot of people in town that I Bestow upon my fakest smiles Scandal does funny things to pride, but brings lovers closer We came back when the heat died down Went to my parents and they came around All the wine moms are still holding out But fuck ’em, it’s over

This verse is where I think it becomes clear than the 2023 lens is at best reminding Taylor of a past love, because that relationship never came back. Matty has said they never dated in 2014, there was no controversy around her attending concerts then. They dated for a few weeks then stopped talking, and of story.

However Harry and Taylor did sing about a hidden relationship for years. In fact Taylor wasn't connected to anyone else in a serious way for three years. In particular

Wildest Dreams: I said, “No one has to know what we do”

This Love "This love came back to me, oh, oh, oh"

I know places : "Somethin' happens when everybody finds out / See the vultures circling, dark clouds" and "we're bulletproof I know places (Hide) and you know for me, it's always you"

…Ready For It?: "Island breeze and lights down low, no one has to know"

I Know Places TV's lyric video for got a very TTPD themed look.

[Final Chorus] Now I’m dancing in my dress in the sun and Even my daddy just loves him I’m his lady And, oh, my God, you should see your faces Time, doesn’t it give some perspective? And, no, you can’t come to the wedding I know it’s crazy, but he’s the one I want

Taylor is asking her fans, parents, media if they have grown up, from when they were teenagers playing with her real life, do they have perspective and willing to accept that she loves someone of her choosing?

And no, they can't come to the wedding, but I bet they have Eras Tour tickets.... and some showed up at Jacks.

[that-ari-blogger]

The Gospel Of Elphaba

In May 1900, the George M. Hill Company published The Wonderful Wizard Of Oz, a book written by L. Frank Baum and illustrated by W. W. Denslow. That book captured the imagination of its audience enough to get sequels and one of the most dangerous film adaptations to make of all time.

The book was about good and evil, and featured a stereotypical medicine journey about a child trying to return home. It discussed personal growth and childhood fantasy and is generally a good book, even with the elements that haven't aged as well (again, it was published in 1900).

But then, in 1995, Gregory Maguire wrote Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West, a fanfiction that takes a very different approach on the story. This book discusses the same themes, but from a different angle. Now things are complicated.

Enter Wicked, the musical, which dissects the themes even further, and uses its opening song, No One Mourns The Wicked to tear apart the idea of good and evil in the original book.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD

I wasn't joking in the title of this post. No One Mourns The Wicked (NOMtW) and the musical as a whole do act as a gospel. Which is fascinating.

Now, I am not Christian, but I do have experience with the faith from a scholarly perspective and from growing up in a heavily Christian culture. As such, while I will treat the faith with the respect befitting any living religion, my perspective on it is that of an outsider looking in, so I cannot be considered a definitive source on Christianity.

The word "Gospel" comes from a few different sources, most notably "godspell" according to etymonline.com, which means "good spell" or "good message" or, if you really stretch the thesaurus, "good news."

The gospel of mark literally opens with "the beginning of the gospel of Jesus..." (English Standard Version) or "the beginning of the good news about Jesus..." (New International Version). So, the word is interchangeable.

And would you look at that, the opening words of NOMtW are:

"Good news, she's dead".

The song is deliberately drawing comparison between Elphaba and the Biblical Messiah, specifically with the defining act. Jesus' most famous act was his death, and the same is true for Elphaba. But both characters have more to their story than the surface level ideal, notably their perspective that people should be kind to each other, and that was why they were "killed". Also, neither of the two stay dead for very long.

But there is more to the similarity than just some neat little references, specifically in how they differ. And that might be contradictory, but it really isn't. Opposites are similar in how they relate specifically to each other. A thing can only be the opposite of something else, it can't be the opposite on its own.

NOMtW actively asks the question: "Was it actually good news?" Specifically in relation to Elphaba. Wicked is told from the perspective of Elphaba, and it frames her death as a tragedy. So NOMtW gives the audience the setup for that story.

"No one mourns the wicked!"

"No one cries they won't return!"

"No one lays a lily on their grave!"

Voiceplay has a phenomenal A cappella Medley for the Wicked musical that I highly recommend you check out.

These lines serve to build into the tragedy itself, they make you feel sad for the deceased person. But the anger with which they are said gives a different vibe. Suddenly, these become warnings, don't be wicked or else.

Fun fact: I was in a high school production of this musical, as a chorus member, and I was given the line about the lily. The director told to deliver the line as a threat to the audience, which reframes the meaning a bit, doesn't it? The chorus is telling you not to empathise with the Wicked Witch of the West.

And interestingly, that's who she is in this song. The name "Elphaba" isn't mentioned once. She is the Wicked Witch. That's who the audience thinks she is, and that's who the chorus thinks she is. The citizens of oz become the audience surrogates.

Glinda, the good witch, then begins to argue with the chorus. Her melodic voice contrasts with the spite of the Ozians, and that translates into her lyrics.

The conflict here is to confuse the audience, I think. It is to ask them who they think they should be agreeing with here. And when the chorus echos Glinda's words, they change them. Those last three lines become:

"And goodness knows,

the Wicked's lives are lonely.

Goodness knows,

The Wicked die alone.

It just shows when you're Wicked,

You're left only

On your own."

What is truth in this world? Can even that be trusted? That's what the musical as a whole seeks to answer, as well as what consequences that has on the real world.

"Nothing grows for the Wicked

They reap only

What they've sown"

"Are people born Wicked? Or do they have wickedness thrust upon them? After all, she had a father. She had a mother, as so many do"

I have put some of the above quote in bold, and that is because it is a fantastic question to ask in a story about good and evil. In the original book and subsequent film, the Wicked Witch of the West is evil because she does evil things. She tries to kill Dorothy on multiple occasions, so she is evil, right?

Here, Glinda asks a simple question: "Why did the witch do that?" And this part of the song becomes spoken instead of sung, to really emphasise the point.

But Glinda also tries to humanise Elphaba here, she had a mother and a father. This reminds me of another humanising moment, but not from the bible this time.

"Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? ... If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?"

This is from Act 3 Scene 1 of William Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice, written in the 1590s. And it features Shylock, the outcast of the plot, appealing to a collection of people that he is in fact, just as human as them. He tries to convince them that the outsider is worth respect just as much as any other, and that his actions have motivations just as much as any other.

In that story, the appeal has no effect, and in Wicked, written 400 years later, I can't say it is any different.

The moment with the mysterious lover is important because it is yet another specific divergence from the biblical story. It turns out to be the Wizard, a man from another world, who comes to see the mother of the protagonist. But the divinity is removed, and that's a key element here. Elphaba isn't a one-to-one Jesus figure, she's had all of the intrinsic morality taken away and replaced with being green.

Elphaba is othered because of a physical alteration caused by elements she has no control over. She is outcast from even her family because of her appearance. I will talk in another post about what being green means in story, but for now, it is most certainly not heavenly, instead being linked with the garden of Eden with the snake and the apple.

That apple is a neat connection to the vial that the wizard offers Elphaba's mother, once again reframing the story. Now the Wizard gets aligned with the snake, making Elphaba the antichrist? This metaphor goes buck wild if you look too far into it.

Final Thoughts

I have a love for Wicked, to the point where it is one of those formative stories for me. The music is fun and as I grew up, I realised that I empathised with more characters than I was entirely comfortable with.

If this is the first of my posts you have read, I do analysis of storytelling. This will be a series on Wicked as a whole, specifically delving into the songs and what they say about the musical's themes. Next week, I will take a look at The Wizard And I, so stick around if that interests you.

Next

[dark-and-kawaii]

Lofn Cormyr Thay

The Young Princess of both Thay & Cormyr.

Lofn’s mother is Lynnania Thay, also known as The Red Queen of Thay or Queen of the Dragons. Lynnania belongs to the Royal Red Dragonblood Line, and she shares a connection and blood with the Ancient Red Dragon, Thalerion.

Lofn’s father, Lykos Cormyr, was the King of Cormyr and belonged to the Royal Blue Dragonblood Line, he was bonded with The Ancient Blue Dragon, Remforg. However, her eldest brother, Signa, has become the new King of Cormyr.

She is heir to the Thay Throne.

Lofn possesses an inconsistent kindness, yet it is undeniable that she has a compassionate nature and finds it difficult to witness the suffering of those she deems innocent. On one occasion, she encountered a king whose subjects were facing execution for practicing magic. Without hesitation, she took it upon herself to slay the man in the public's eye to free them from his corrupt ruling.

Both she and her mother have been given the titles “Monarch’s Bane” due to them both being known for ending the lives of multiple rulers.

Lofn harbors ambitions to continue her mother's legacy of conquering kingdoms/ allying with certain kingdoms. She also wishes to preserve her family's strong bloodline.

She will swiftly turn against anyone she perceives as an enemy, subjecting them to merciless and unjust punishments simply because she has the power to do so.

Lofn prioritizes her people and family above all else and will go to any lengths to safeguard them. Unlike many rulers who shelter themselves behind fortifications, she was raised to be present among her people, fighting alongside them.

Lofn is the sole rider of the Amethyst Dragon, Aetherion, with whom she shares a remarkable and unique bond that transcends typical dragon-rider relationships. Their connection is deeply symbiotic, marked by steadfast loyalty and a significant emotional depth. When Lofn experiences distress, Aetherion too shows signs of discomfort, reflecting the profound interdependence of their relationship.

During battle, as Lofn's hostility intensifies, Aetherion resonates with her feelings, embodying her fierce determination and intensity. Their emotional bond is so powerful that the dragon picks up on Lofn's emotions effortlessly, without any verbal instructions or signals, making them an unstoppable team.

Key Abilities; Lofn was granted immunity to fire by The Ancient Red Dragon, and was granted the power to harness lightning from The Ancient Blue Dragon.

Power & Weapon; She’s a sorceress of fire and lightning magic but prefers to use her great sword that was gifted to her by a peculiar winter elf. The blade is made from broken glass and amethysts.

Enemies: Asmodeous & The Nine Hells

Main Allies: Bane - Grazzt - Tiamat - Ancient Red Dragon - Ancient Blue Dragon - Ancient Black Dragon - Ancient Green Dragon - Ancient Gold Dragon - Amethyst Dragon

Bane is one of her mother’s most trusted allies and has been at the Thay’s side ever since he took a liking to Lynnania. He regards Lofn as if she were his own daughter and he wishes to grant her his blessing. Since her birth, he has been a protective presence in her life, imparting many of his skills to her. Bane eagerly anticipates the opportunity to fight alongside her and her family in their upcoming fight with Asmodeous. When disguising himself, Bane adopts the persona of a wood elf named Reyes.

Tiamat, also known as The Dark Lady, has stayed in Thay ever since Lofn’s mother freed her from Asmodeous/ The Hells. Tiamat has a bond with Lofn due to her draconic ancestry and the power she holds, she views the princess as a means to strengthen not only herself but the chromatic dragons as well.

Grazzt, on the other hand, is like a great grandfather to Lofn due to his son being married to her grandmother. He sees her as an opportunity to collect souls for himself and has offered his mark multiple times, although she has always refused. Grazzt seeks to claim her for himself before Bane can do so, essentially competing with him. He and Lofn share a bond when it comes to defending what is rightfully theirs, they’ve killed many devils together and even his siblings chosen ones.

Yes this is all canon to our dnd campaign, yes this all happened. Four years is a long time for a campaign and a lot can happen ♡

[seravphs]

(青春) —

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO x FEM READER

There is before-Getou and after-Getou. In both spaces, Gojo exists.

wc — 3.1k

tags — the gradual but inexorable realization that your youth is lost to you, possessive Gojo, so hard to write Gojo and Getou together without making it a little ménage a trois, eldest daughter coded reader trying to pick up the pieces Getou left behind, missing your childhood innocence that can never return, blurry lines, unreliable adults, mild Getou x reader, title from The Belladonna of Sadness by Sally Wen Mao 

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The road to Jujutsu High is littered with the fallen cherry blossoms. Gojo kicks at the large snow banks of pink flowers, letting them land in drifts marking your progression across campus. He complains incessantly of the pollen, the bees, and whatever else he finds it in his heart to complain about. Petals rain from the sky over your head. 

Spring arrives with the new students on campus. You’re the first, because Gojo insisted on arriving early. He wants to assert his superiority over his classmates by knowing the layout of the land before they can, though you’re sure possessing the Six Eyes would’ve worked just as well in that capacity. Lady Gojo, as always, does not challenge her son. He leaves the day he says he will. 

Before you go, she takes you aside. There is an almost saintly quality to her beauty, as if something about her is not of this world. Her white hair sweeps over her shoulder, tracing the delicate curve of her neck. 

Her son is undeniably of her blood. They share the same pale coloring, as if a photograph had been bleached to a true negative. Only a woman like her could have given birth to a son like him. 

When she places her hands over yours, it’s hard not to pull back, feeling unworthy. Even having known Lady Gojo for most of your life, it’s often difficult to shake the overwhelming feeling of respect you have for her. She asks you to look after him in her stead. 

There’s only one answer you can give. 

“Good girl,” she says, pressing her lips to your brow like a blessing. This close, you can smell the camellia oil in her silky hair. Loose strands brush against your face, and then she pulls back. 

In the end, it doesn’t matter. Another student is there when you arrive. 

“What the fuck,” Gojo says. “It’s a week before the semester starts. Why is he here?”

“You’re here,” you pointedly remind him. 

He blows you off. “That’s different.” 

Getou Suguru got special permission from Principal Yaga to join Jujutsu High two weeks early. As the only student from a non-sorcerer family, Yaga wanted to help him get acclimated before class started. Gojo seethes in rage, especially when Getou tries to help you move your things into your new dorm in the other building. 

“Hands off,” he slaps Getou’s hands away from your suitcase. “She’s mine.” 

“You can’t own a person,” Getou says, mildly annoyed. 

He’s trying to play nice, feeling out the intricacies of completely new faces in a new setting. You wish you could tell him he doesn’t need to bother. Gojo will always be Gojo, no matter where he is. 

He’s only mildly more bearable the next day, as the final student arrives just on the cusp of being late. 

“A reverse cursed technique user?” Gojo’s practically shivering with excitement. “Cool! I wanna do that!” 

Yaga smacks his desk with his ruler for attention. “And you will, if you can manage to pay attention during class.” 

You’re surprised you’re even using the classrooms at all. They might be useful for theory, but in truth, everyone knew Jujutsu was best learned through experience. It really wasn’t learned at all, but earned through being on the field. 

Yaga doesn’t seem to think so. 

“Boring,” Gojo interrupts halfway through his lecture. “I learned all of this already with my tutors when I was eight! When do we get to the good stuff?” 

Getou scoffs. “Not all of us have tutors, asshole.” 

“Yeah?” Gojo says. He pushes his sunglasses up so they rest on his head. 

Yaga takes a quick survey of the classroom. You already know what he’s going to do before he does it. 

“Getou, move to the seat next to you. And you,” he points at you. “Sit in his seat, please.” 

“We don’t need-“ Getou starts. 

“I don’t care,” he says. “Do it. Now.” 

You’re almost impressed as you take your new seat. Part of dealing with Gojo is knowing when to pick your battles. It seems Yaga has already picked up on that. 

“Hey,” Gojo says, grinning at you. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.” 

Shoko, who has been quiet up until now, makes a soft gagging noise from the other side of Getou. On the very first day of class, the relationships between the four of you have already been solidified. 

Despite their rocky start, Getou and Gojo seek each other out like they’ve been magnetized to each other. They play terribly off each other, goading the other on. 

“Bet you I can take out more cursed users-“

“Bet you I can take down the curse faster-“

Gojo has never had a challenge like him in all of his fifteen years of life. For all their bickering, they take to each other quickly. A little too quickly. They’re attached at the hip before long, which means Getou’s also attached to you. 

“Psst,” Gojo hisses. His breath is fogging up the window you just cleaned. “Open up! Hurry!” 

You check the clock. It’s past curfew, and the sun has long since set. His hair glows radiantly against the backdrop of the dark sky. Weak to him as always, you push the window open. 

“What are you doing?” 

He’s already clambering in without an invitation, knowing you won’t refuse him. The consequences of growing up together means you can speak a language that doesn’t need words, a poetic way of saying Gojo is used to being spoiled by you. 

“What are you waiting for?” He throws over his shoulder, his leg straddling the windowsill and his torso halfway inside your room. For a second, you’re worried he’ll be stuck. He hit a growth spurt last year and hasn’t stopped since. “Are you coming or not?” 

“You didn’t say we were going to her room,” Getou attempts to and fails at hiding the blush on his face. “We can’t be in a girl’s room!” 

“Don’t be a prude,” Gojo shoots back.

Getou hesitates, looking at you. You extend your hand to pull him through. He takes it. 

Gojo makes himself comfortable as always, ransacking the little box of snacks you keep above the mini fridge. Getou smacks his hands away, trying to discipline him. It’s no use. Gojo’s manners are something his mother despairs at. 

Finally satisfied with his pick, Gojo sprawls out on the floor, every single inch taking up as much space as possible. With no room left for Getou, you pat the bed to offer him a seat next to you. 

“Where’s Shoko?” You frown. “You invited her, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Gojo waves you off. “I knew you’d be pissed if I didn’t. She said she doesn’t want to hang out. Probably asleep by now.” 

He looks up at the two of you through his eyelashes, his eyes half shut. There’s something charmingly open about his expression right now, sweet and boyish. The lamplight casts dancing shadows across his face, making the moment feel ephemeral, though it’s just another night that Gojo has snuck into your room. 

He has a way of making all time spent with him feel significant, seared into your memory like it’ll be taken out of its treasure chest and lovingly pored over later. Perhaps it will. He’s an important man - these moments may be like family heirlooms in the future, the good old days when grandma was best friends with the Legendary Gojo Satoru. Maybe your grandchildren will beg you for stories of him. You’ll tell them about how he was talented, brave, and above all, reckless. 

He’s beholden to no authority, and beyond willing to prove it. It’s a thorn in the elders’ sides. 

“The elders are pressuring Yaga to ask me to take a special grade mission,” he says. 

Getou jolts. “That’s confidential.” 

Gojo rolls his eyes at him. “Come on, everyone knew I was going to tell her. Do you want me to?” 

The last part is directed at you. Carefully, you turn the question over in your head. Gojo is offering you the choice, letting you balance and discard lives. Right now, the elders only have one special grade, Tsukumo Yuki, and she’s fond of going rogue after missions. Maybe it’s just a special grade thing, to be a loose cannon. It would be helpful to have another special grade willing to step up, but- 

“Tell him no. You’re just a first-year,” you say. 

“I want to go. I’m good enough.” 

“Please don’t.” 

“Will you give me a reward if I don’t?” 

Getou interrupts the beginning of your answer. “It’s fine, I’ll go with him. It’ll be okay if it’s the both of us.” 

“You’re a first-year, too. Don’t go, Gojo. I’ll give you anything you want. I’ll talk to Yaga for you.” 

As if his name summons him, there’s a loud thump on the door. 

“Hey!” Yaga has a bad habit of knocking so hard it startles you. “Are those men’s voices I hear? No boys in the girls’ dorms!”

You freeze. You hate lying because you’re horrible at it. Gojo mouths at you furiously, ‘Just lie! Make something up!’ 

“No,” you say, too shakily. It’s so obvious. “Just watching TV!” 

“Hmph,” Yaga grumbles, but his footsteps fade away. 

Years later, you’ll realize that Yaga could’ve checked the boys’ rooms if he was really suspicious and wanted to separate you three. Your heart squeezes, as it always does in the future, thinking of these quieter times. It was nice to be so young and untouchable. 

Yaga’s visit kills all future conversation, and Gojo is yawning, anyway. You know you can convince him to listen to you, so you let it go. Getou wakes both of you up the next morning. It’s a particularly brutal day to practice - Tsukumo’s back, which means she wants to have a personal hand in training the “baby special grades,” as she calls them. 

You’re waiting for Gojo to finish his private training session on the porch when Getou joins you. He’s drinking green tea out of a reusable bottle. In his other hand, he has a can of soda for you. It’s so cold it sweats condensation even in the barely there warmth of spring. 

“Thanks,” you take it gratefully. 

“Done already?”

“Waiting for Gojo.” 

“Why are you so obsessed with him anyways?” He regrets his words immediately after he says it. “Is that rude? I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be.” 

You take another gulp of the drink so you can think about his question. It’s so cold your teeth hurt. “I promised his mother I would take care of him.” 

“But you’re the same age as him. And not as- You’re-“ 

“Not as strong as he is,” you supply, without anger. 

“I didn’t want to say it.” 

“There are different types of strength,” you say, brushing off your clothes as you stand up. Both Gojo and Getou are growing like bean sprouts. The shoulder of his jacket stretches dangerously taut, one of the threads fraying. You reach out and snap it off for him. 

“Besides, this is just how it’s always been. Gojo needs a little extra spoiling, and I’ve always been happy to provide it.” 

“And if I need spoiling too?” He says, half-joking. 

You reach up to pat his head, causing him to freeze. “Sure. I can spare you some.” 

“What are you two doing?” Gojo’s voice is like a whip as he strides towards you. 

You pull your hand back instantly and hide it behind your back. For some reason, you feel like you’ve been caught doing something wrong. 

“There was something in my hair,” Getou says smoothly. 

Gojo pulls him towards him by the cuffs of his sleeves. He pats Getou’s hair down himself, as if for confirmation. “Huh. Guess she got all of it. You guys hungry? I’m starved! Let’s get dinner.” 

“Wait for Shoko,” you reprimand him. “She’s still in training.” 

“But I’m so hungry!” 

“It’s just 5 minutes. Come sit by me,” you say. 

He whines and moans about it, but he does come to you, laying his head on your lap. The weight of him is soothing and familiar, the heat of him felt through the thin fabric of your skirt. You press a teasing finger to his cheek and feel the whistle of air as he snaps his teeth at you playfully. 

“You too, Getou,” you say. “We can all wait together.” 

“She’s taking so long,” Gojo complains. You pat him absentmindedly on the head to shush him. 

“You’ll be grateful when she’s healing your dumb ass,” Getou tells him. 

“Me?” Gojo scoffs. “As if I’m ever going to need healing.” 

Your first year passes uneventfully, as slow and syrupy as the jam Gojo eats by the spoonful for breakfast. Gojo still sneaks over occasionally for sleepovers, bringing Getou or Shoko or both. Sometimes you all sneak out together to town. 

You continue learning theory and refining your technique. Shoko lies about her age and receives a deferred medical school offer. Gojo and Getou are strong enough to go on missions already, taking everything up to grade 1. 

Even during these halcyon days, as if you know what’s coming, your heart is filled with longing. You miss the moment even as you’re living in it, wishing that your first year at Jujutsu Tech would never end. It’s nice to be so peaceful. Though you’re all training to become sorcerers, it doesn’t feel real yet. You cling to each day as summer starts to approach, robbing you of what little is left of your first year. 

Spring comes and goes, leaving you with nothing but wistfulness. You can’t help feeling that these are the days you will miss when you graduate, these moments you can never experience again. 

It’s bittersweet, the joy of having something for the first time. If you could, you would give yourself temporary amnesia so you could meet every moment anew. 

 Instead, the uncompromising march of time remains indifferent to your silent prayers. The second day of your second year, Getou asks you to meet him behind the main campus. 

“Let’s take a walk through the woods,” he says. 

“That’s how good girls get murdered,” you joke, though you follow him anyway. 

“You think I would hurt you?” 

You gasp, tripping over a root you didn’t expect. He turns around and lunges for you just as you trip backwards, trying to catch you before you can fall. He grabs your shoulders right when you grin and reveal that you were just fine the whole time. 

“No,” you say, only cheered on by his exasperation. “I don’t think you would.” 

He makes an annoyed sound, and you realize for the first time exactly how close he is to you. He notices simultaneously. Suddenly the awareness that the two of you are just inches apart dawns on both of you. His breath hitches. His kiss tastes like the green tea he drinks to get rid of the aftertaste of curses. 

You touch your fingertips to your lips wonderingly as he pulls back. His face is dark with an emotion you can’t identify, something that you don’t think you can call love. He shivers when you press those same fingertips to his lips, your touch burning him through. 

You draw back instantly, aware you’ve crossed a line. 

“Oh, Getou.” 

“You don’t have to say anything.” For this boy from the villages, the strongest but still not Gojo, pity is unbearable. He doles it out to others like a benevolent saint. To receive it feels wrong. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have to be. I know. It’s Gojo, isn’t it?” 

“Not like that,” you try, though you know you’ll never be able to explain the complicated relationship between you and Gojo. Some day he’ll get married. Perhaps he’ll leave you behind, or perhaps you’ll have to explain to some poor girl why there’s an automatic third in her relationship. You just come with the territory, a package deal. 2-for-1 is always just a way to sell a sucker something they don’t want. 

“I know,” Getou says. “Do you ever think of doing anything for yourself?” 

That’s an interesting question. You thought about it all the time when you were younger and resentful of babysitting, but you’ve long since grown used to your role, like a tree pruned into the right shape. 

“Not really.” 

Getou’s words are said thoughtlessly, just the musings of a boy who wants to understand why. They take root in your heart and become something else. The leash slackens, little by little. 

Spring of second-year is much like first-year. For all you worried, little has changed. 

There’s only one major difference. 

Gojo and Getou take their first special-grade mission. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

You’re annoyed, and surprised by exactly how annoyed you really are. For everyone else’s bad temper with Gojo, you have the patience of a saint when it comes to him. It helps that he gives you more than he gives anyone else, too, except times like these. 

He looks askance. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you.” 

Gojo goes. You can’t stop him. You don’t have the right to when he’s more than capable of it. He’s the strongest, after all. Technically, he should’ve been doing field work long before. He’s the most valuable asset the sorcerers have. 

Once you’ve uncaged him, Gojo rampages. He comes back within a day, predictably victorious, brutally so. This only solidifies his understanding of himself as the god of this cursed world. He can’t help but push himself even more, trying to find the seemingly limitless boundary of his power. 

When he’s given the Star Plasma Vessel mission, he doesn’t turn it down. Getou follows him. 

Everyone seems to be walking their own paths. As Gojo and Getou keep exploring the limits of their own strength on missions, Shoko spends her days in the morgue. Eventually, you too find something to pass your time. 

Yaga recruits you as an assistant. Most days, this means paperwork and making tea, though occasionally it gives you glimpses into the bureaucracy of the Jujutsu world. Shoko thinks it’s boring, banning you from talking about it on your lunch dates. You don’t mind - you’d hate being idle more. 

Though it’s normally unexciting in Yaga’s office, you notice the mood immediately when you walk in. Yaga’s leaning back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose, almost like he’s trying to stop a nosebleed. He looks like he’s about to cry. You’ve never seen your principal like this, and it alarms you. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” Gojo says. “I fixed it.” 

Turning around, you see his hair first. Gojo’s bone white hair, so like his mother’s, is matted with dark red blood. It drips into his eye and leaves rust colored stains across his cheek, the collar of his shirt, and his jacket. His eyes are manic. 

You should’ve gone with them.

(夏) — 

[gildedcigarettes]

basically the fact that lana del rey once performed as lizzy grant doesn't just benefit but is absolutely crucial to lana del rey's career and the arc of her repertoire....the most obvious example is the ride monologue and how it contextualizes the message of the song...but look at the video for "Born To Die" the titular song of her first album as Lana del Rey: it's a woman in the afterlife reflecting on her time alive, and the love that killed her. The Lana del Rey body of music is a post-mortem of Lizzy Grant WHICH makes the evolution of her albums even more fascinating because come BORN TO DIE she's dead, reflecting on her experiences. PARADISE is the same but more overt given the title and you can also pretty easily look at an arc of doomed love in the structure of those songs ending in basically a plea to heaven. even the incredible "Ride" is about no longer caring, relinquishing agency in a way. ULTRAVIOLENCE marks an interesting shift here: in her own words she says she "must've been very angry" at that time of her life; you can tell from the lyrics that she's tired of being passive and getting sick of some of the bullshit she's dealing with: This marks some stirrings of life, a newfound need to change. HONEYMOON is the grand finale of the death of Lizzy Grant: Numb, desperate, uncaring BUT "The Blackest Day" acknowledges the decline and desperately, in the albums final song, her cover of "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood" says all a final plea can. LUST FOR LIFE: i mean the title speaks for itself . as do the songs "Change", "Get Free", and the number one song of all time, "Heroin". Lana says that her smiling in the cover was a very important choice made. This is a return from the grave. "NFR!" is an escape from the empty, soulless burning hills of LA into something new. picking "Chemtrails Over the Country Club". ;). and with this new life and quest for freedom, the old feelings, traumas, all that's escaped by pretending apathy all come back, the reflection melancholy and hope of "Blue Banisters". "Ocean Blvd" confronts this even more, how untreated trauma affects adulthood. .... There arent any easy answers..........😓😓😓😓😓😓😓😓😓😓😓😓😓😓🙈

[lulu2992]

From the Inquisitor to the Baptist: The Evolution of John Seed

In addition to concept art and behind-the-scenes content, early visuals and deleted dialog can still be found in the game itself, notably in its files, and reveal more information about how John and his personality have changed during the development of Far Cry 5.

All the sources and references indicated by the superscript numbers will be given in the last post.

Part 4: Personality and morals (Far Cry 5)

First, let’s have a look at this screenshot of the performance capture footage of the game’s first mission, “The Warrant”, that was officially posted in August 2018⁴¹.

While the Father, the Marshal, and the Sheriff are all played by their original actors, the Heralds are not. That said, they don’t say a word in this scene and are just standing in the background, so it wasn’t necessary for Mark Pellegrino (Jacob), Jenessa Grant (Faith), and Seamus Dever to be on set that day, and their characters could be played by other people. I don’t know how old the footage is, but the number “170803” in the title of the sequence could be a date: August 3, 2017. There are two other numbers in the video, “170616” and “170615”, which could mean other parts of the intro were shot on June 15 and 16 (but this is just a hypothesis).

Behind Greg Bryk, the actor on the left in the screenshot seems to be Jacob, as the eldest Seed brother stands in a similar position, with his arms crossed, in the finished scene. The woman on the floor is surely Faith, and her posture is quite different from what we see in the game (but, interestingly, reminiscent of the way she poses in the family portrait found in the Holmes Residence³¹). The attitude of the third actor, who must be John, isn’t identical to the Baptist’s in the finalized sequence, either.

Instead of standing with his arms behind his back, he has one foot on the platform and, judging by the way his left hand is positioned, it looks like it’s possibly either in the pocket of his coat (maybe just the thumb) or resting on a gun. While, in Far Cry 5, John is simply observing the scene, attentively but calmly, and the “tough” brother seems to be Jacob instead, in this early version of the intro, his attitude is defiant and draws more attention to him, like he wants to make it very clear that you shouldn’t try to attack him or his family.

This is consistent with what we’ve seen in the first promotional images, concept art, Inside Eden’s Gate, the TV spot, and what is described in Far Cry Absolution: John used to appear more threatening and confident. In the game, this was toned down a bit and he, on the contrary, seems to want to look more “polite” than overtly menacing. This might be due to the fact that, as evidence suggests, his methods, although still violent, aren’t as extreme as they used to be.

In the final version of Far Cry 5, John gives tattoos that represent people’s sins and then cuts them out to make them Atone. This is brutal, yes, but from his point of view, this isn’t gratuitously brutal. He genuinely believes he’s helping and saving people, and that suffering is indispensable. The day his parents “threw [him] on the ground” and made him experience unbearable amounts of pain, he says he reached a point where “all [he] could say was yes” because he felt “clear” and “free”. Whether they’re right or not (since it seems the Voice Joseph hears is real), the members of the Seed family have conditioned themselves into believing that their trauma was a divine “test”, that it gave them purpose, and that people needed to experience the same thing to serve the Project, survive the Collapse, and be worthy of passing the Gates of Eden. John, because of what he went through, now believes pain has purifying properties, and he hurts others so they too can experience the epiphany he had while he was being tortured as a child. He can also get zealous and doesn’t hesitate to threaten or harm people who resist him, mostly because he can’t do his job properly and impress the Father if they don’t comply (and ironically, it’s precisely when he gets angry and carried away that Joseph is disappointed), but he doesn’t torture people just because he enjoys it. On the surface, it may look like pure sadism, but it’s more complicated; there’s reason for his actions. What gives him satisfaction is more the result of the pain he inflicts (look how exhilarated he is when he’s finally made Nick Atone) than the simple act of inflicting pain. He sees “torture” as a means to an end: Salvation.

In the game’s files, though, deleted content reveals that, earlier in development, John was more violent, would mostly hurt for his own enjoyment, and was, in general, a more hypocritical and narcissistic person, and it appears a few needless acts of brutality were removed from the game.

For example, this is what the transcript of John’s radio call to the Deputy for their Atonement looks like in the “oasisstrings” file⁴², which contains all the in-game text:

Your actions have consequences, Deputy. I've gathered all your friends here in Fall's End to Atone for your sins. You're welcome to join us. After all, if it weren't for you they wouldn't be in this predicament... This is your last chance to say Yes, Deputy. Don't be late.[SFX of an electric saw and someone screaming]

As you probably know, the “SFX of an electric saw and someone screaming” isn’t part of the call at all in the game, and it’s not in the audio files either. The sound effect would have made it seem like John was busy gruesomely torturing someone when he decided to call the Deputy, and that he casually resumed hurting them as soon as he was done talking. I think it’s interesting that the developers considered including this but eventually decided against it. Without it, the call sounds “normal”. Threatening, but normal. The scream and the electric saw would have made John look like someone who gratuitously tortures without any empathy… but this simply isn’t who he is anymore, so the SFX had to be cut.

In the Prima Games guide, a screenshot reveals what the Confession room in John’s Gate used to look like:

The room isn’t grey just because the lighting is different; plastic tarps are covering the floor and walls. The Confession room used to look more like a torture/kill chamber in which a lot of blood was expected to be shed. The wrapped dead bodies were more visible… and also seemed more consistent with who John apparently was at the time: basically a (somewhat caricatural) serial killer. Although he knew how to look refined, it seems neither he nor his methods particularly were.

When you explore the Holland Valley, you can stumble upon an excerpt of Deputy Joey Hudson’s Confession. In the broadcast, clearly recorded and made public by John in an attempt to make the Junior Deputy worry about their partner’s safety and lure them into his bunker, here is what we hear:

John: It was the Father who said to me, “Take them, John. Take them even if they resist, for those who deny the Project are the ones most in need of its salvation. Though their sins are great, their souls are not beyond saving. All they must do… is Confess.” Are you ready, Deputy Hudson? Hudson: Go fuck yourself. John: Hmm… I know. Opening yourself, exposing your darkest secrets can be… challenging. It can be scary, but… this is a safe space, there is no judgment here. Do you wish for me to hear your Confession? Hudson: Go. Fuck. Yourself. John: That’s... not the magic word. John: Do you wish for me to hear your confession? John: *sighs* You just have to say "Yes." Hudson: Go. Fuck. Yours- *screams* John: Do you wish to Confess? Hudson: *still in pain* Oh, fuck you! Fuck you! John: Embrace it. John: Embrace the Power of Yes! Hudson: *crying* Please, stop. Please, stop! Please, stop... Please... John: Do you wish to Confess? Hudson: Yes... John: There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?

Hudson’s screams make the broadcast hard to listen to, but it turns out it used to be even worse.

There are 16 sound files in this “sermon”, but there were 9 more (so 25 in total) in the “complete”, previous version, which sounded like this:

John: It was the Father who said to me, “Take them, John. Take them even if they resist, for those who deny the Project are the ones most in need of its salvation. Though their sins are great, their souls are not beyond saving. All they must do… is Confess.” Are you ready, Deputy Hudson? Hudson: Go fuck yourself! John: Hmm… I know. Opening yourself, exposing your darkest secrets can be… challenging. It can be scary, but… this is a safe space, there is no judgment here. Do you wish for me to hear your Confession? Hudson: Go fuck yourself!! John: That’s... not the magic word. Hudson: Go fuck yourself. John: Do you wish for me to hear your confession? Hudson: Go. Fuck. Yourself. John: *sighs* You just have to say "Yes." Hudson: Go. Fuck. Yours- *screams* John: Do you wish to Confess? Hudson: *screams* John: Shhh… It’s okay. This happens all the time. Hudson: *still in pain* Oh, fuck you! Fuck you! John: You just have to open yourself. Hudson: *screams* John: Embrace it. Hudson: *screams* John: Embrace the Power of Yes! Hudson: *screams* Hudson: *crying* Please, stop. Please, stop! Please, stop... Please... Hudson: No... *screams* John: Do you wish to Confess? Hudson: Yes... John: There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?

While the in-game version is painful to listen to, it seems a bit less violent in comparison, like John is only hurting Joey (who used to be more confrontational too) when he believes it’s required, just enough to make her say “yes” so he can finally do his job. He’s also a bit less mocking in the final broadcast, and unlike in the long version, when she asks him to stop, he does. To me, shortening this audio to only keep what’s “necessary” (from John’s point of view, of course; it’s still harsh) makes him seem less pointlessly sadistic, and I see this as another proof that his violent tendencies were deliberately toned down.

In deleted radio calls⁴³, John was also more taunting and insulting towards the Deputy, calling them “a wayward, filthy sinner” he could easily find if he followed “the stench of sin”. He also used to tell them it was their fault if he hurt people, for example in this one, supposed to be triggered sometime after the mission “The Confession”:

Wrath... all that anger you carry inside of you is a disease. It spreads out... infects others. It's even infected me. It's making me do something I don't want to do. You see, after you fled your Confession this... rage started boiling up inside me. I'm afraid your friend, your... Deputy Hudson... will have to bear the brunt of this rage you've given me. She's going to be the one who pays for what you've done. And you only have yourself to blame.

In Far Cry 5, he still taunts the Deputy and threatens to harm their allies if they keep hurting the Project, but not as much, and it appears he doesn’t always plan on carrying out his threats; he mostly wants to scare them so they “behave” and let him do his job (but it doesn’t work very well). In the deleted call, I think he seemed to be a less sincere and more manipulative person, and this John would likely have kept torturing people even if the Deputy hadn’t done anything, simply because he enjoyed it, but he prefers to guilt trip them and tell them that they should feel bad for his actions.

In the game, when Hudson is finally out of John’s Gate, she says something I think is very interesting⁴⁴:

When you escaped the bunker... John didn't say it... but you could see it in his face. Failure. Things got worse from there... Like he was trying to make up for something. Prove to his brother he could... I never thought I'd make it out of there.

I like that the radio call in which John says the Deputy’s Wrath has “infected” him and is “making [him] do something [he doesn’t] want to do” was cut. Again, it didn’t sound genuine; he clearly wanted to make their friends suffer and was just blaming them for his behavior. In Far Cry 5, I love that John doesn’t talk about his feelings at all and doesn’t admit he was angry when the Deputy ran away from his bunker. On the contrary, while they’re fleeing the Gate, John encourages them to leave. To me, it sounds like he’s actually very upset about the situation, probably even more than “early John” would have been, but because he doesn’t want to lose face, he pretends he’s not and that them leaving was his plan all along anyway.

When Hudson reveals that John was visibly vexed after the Deputy’s escape but “didn’t say anything”, I think it’s more compelling than him then calling the Deputy to tauntingly and hypocritically put the blame on them. And when “things got worse from there”, Hudson (rightly, I think) concludes it was because John wanted to “prove to his brother he could” make up for that failure he painfully knew was his, not because he simply felt like hurting people and used the Deputy as an excuse.

What this deleted radio call reveals, to me, is that in earlier versions of the story, John was too conceited to take responsibility for anything, and he wasn’t ashamed because others were always the problem. The final version of John doesn’t have such a high opinion of himself anymore, as much as he wants to give the impression that he does and that nothing can affect him. After the Deputy’s escape, he silently withstands that blow to his ego and then works his hardest to fix his mistake. Unfortunately, it doesn’t change the fact that people then have to suffer, but my point is that the motivation behind his actions is different.

There are more proofs of “early John”’s hypocrisy and narcissism, such as this piece of concept art for his home, Seed Ranch⁴⁵:

In the picture, we see flower beds, colorful garden furniture, a fountain, and a golden (maybe even gold) statue of the “old” Eden’s Gate logo, the one with an eagle, which indicates the artwork was made rather early in development. And they aren’t visible in the artwork, but in the sound files, Nick and Sharky also mention tennis courts⁴⁶!

When people join Eden’s Gate, they are expected to give up their worldly possessions, not to give them to the cult (although it’s always an option since they need supplies for the Collapse), but because Joseph preaches about how Greed, consumerism, and selfishness have perverted humanity, so it’s better to live a simple life. It seems awfully hypocritical, then, for one of his Heralds to own such a luxurious property...

But in the game, although it’s still big, it looks like there are fewer rooms in the ranch, and its exterior isn’t as fancy anymore⁴⁷. No fountain, no gold statue, no colorful garden… and no tennis court.

More cut content suggests that Seed Ranch wasn’t just where John lived. In the deleted in-game encyclopedia (still available in “oasisstrings”), the description of the ranch said:

The power of yes gave John Seed this dream ranch overlooking the Holland Valley. it has commanding views, a private air strip, and secluded soundproofed rooms for his most invigorating religious pursuits.

In the files, it’s also possible to find this kind of NPC dialog:

The cultists were talking about taking me to John's ranch. People who go there... they don't come back. Or they come back wrong.

And a deleted mission objective said to “rescue Mary May from John Seed’s Ranch”, so she would be taken there at some point. In Far Cry 5, converts go to John’s Gate after their Cleansing so he can hear their Confession and tattoo them... as well as make them suffer because, as a cultist explains in the mission “The Cleansing” to people who’ve just been baptized:

Confession without pain isn't Confession. You'll scream out your sin, then you'll wear it on your flesh before John peels it off of you. It's a beautiful thing.

Clearly, “early John” would also torture people in his ranch. And did he really believe it was for “religious” reasons, like it seems he does in the game, or was that, once again, at least partially an excuse? Given what we’ve seen so far, my guess is it was the latter.

A mysterious “sex room” located in the ranch is also mentioned in the files, but it was cut from the game and not much is known about it⁴⁸. If it was a literal “sex room”, it would either be yet another proof that John used to be hypocritical and to not always practice what he preached, or confirm that the “no fornication” rule originally didn’t exist. “Sex room” could also simply be a joke name used by the developers to refer to a torture chamber. But if we want to trust what one of the survivors says in Far Cry New Dawn⁴⁹…

This place used to be a ranch owned by a cultist named John Seed. I always heard rumors that he had some kind of pervert basement and was real disappointed to find out that it wasn't true.

…there apparently is no such room in John’s house.

Given how luxurious the ranch looks, you would expect him to want to spend as much time as possible in it, but it turns out he doesn’t. In fact, one of the cultists guarding the property comments⁵⁰:

Haven't seen John here in a long time. He's super busy.

And in a letter found in his bunker⁵¹, John wrote:

Everyone's human, and that's why I don't want to put myself on a pedestal. I don't ever want to get back up there again. I'd rather be here with all of you and the new souls in this bunker.

At some point during the development of Far Cry 5, John would expect his followers to live a simple life, serve the Project, and rigorously follow its rules while he would do the opposite. In the final version of the game, his faith in his mission and his devotion to the Project seem sincere, and he would rather work tirelessly and live in his Gate among his “brothers and sisters” than lounge in his ranch. Said ranch is also not as much of a display of wealth as it used to be, and nobody gets tortured there anymore. A bag of “oregano” can still be found in the living room, but since no one says anything about it and it really doesn’t seem to me that John would break the cult’s rules and smoke drugs, I consider it to be a relic from the past, a vestige of the time he seemed to only care about himself.

John is involved in three more abandoned storylines in the files, and they all demonstrate he used to be more hypocritical and violent. The first one is revealed by a mission objective that said to “find John and Mary May’s secrets”⁵², and it seemed it was related to the mission in which we would go rescue her from the ranch. Unfortunately, it’s unknown what the secrets were about, but it’s very likely John didn’t want them to be exposed because everyone would have seen his true, ugly colors and how dishonest he was.

The second one is revealed by Hurk Jr. who has this line in the files⁵³:

Good thing for us John and Jacob haven't sorted out their brotherly nonsense. I mean if we're lucky, they'll just take each other down. If not, well, I'm going to keep some grenades around with John's name on 'em, eh? It's comin' to a head man.

In the game, they aren’t in conflict. On the contrary, Jacob seems rather protective of his family, and John strives to impress his brothers.

As for the third one, we know about it thanks to one of Kim’s deleted lines⁵⁴:

John Seed's a piece of shit. When news spread that I was expecting, that scumbag spread rumors that HE was the biological father of my baby. I don't know if he was trying to create a wedge between me and Nick or if he was just doing it to laugh at us. It was stressful and all for nothing. I can tell you, we don't need to go on a talk show and have a DNA test. Nick is the father.

Again, in the game we know, it seems absurd that John would want people to believe that he had an affair with Kim, with whom he isn’t married, considering what the Project’s rules are and that a letter found on the Ryes’ porch, titled “John Seed’s plea”, proves he’s already amiably tried to talk them into joining the Family:

Nick, The Collapse I talked to you about has started. I know you want to protect YOUR FAMILY. The only way to do this is by joining OUR FAMILY. Our bunkers have everything Kim & Baby Rye will need to survive. There are dozens of expecting mothers and children here already with us. This is my final plea to you. Say YES. John Seed

Spreading distasteful rumors about them seems counterproductive, but again, John the Inquisitor probably wouldn’t have cared as long as he could have fun at the expense of other people.

In Far Cry 5, John the Baptist simply isn’t this man anymore.

To be continued…