#anyone else managed to kill dream)

[ancha-aus]

Gifted Drabble - New Age AU - When Summer becomes Spring

I did it! I actually did it! I finished the scheme! @spotaus it took so long but i did it! so I have been working on this for a while! And as you can see it is New Age AU. But with a twist!!

This is not the main AU. this is like an alternative world to that AU. You people know about King!Dream version but this isn't quite that. This is more of a No!King version hihi.

Now. This is more like a one shot or a collection of multiple drabbles all set in the alternative timeline for NewAgeAU. Wtih that out of the way.

Warning! Abuse, esxual abuse, rape, technically underaged and so underaged sexual abuse. NOTHING GRAPPHIC! But it is mentioned and refered and spoken about. I just want you people to be warned just in case. Again. Nothing grapphic in that department. What else. MPreg, again mentioned and used as plotpoint but nothing specific in that way. Character deaths are also in there. Child dead.

It may be a bit of a heavy and long one woopsie. it is 35K words long haha.

*-----------------------------------------*

No one knew what had caused it.

What had gone wrong.

For both the princes, at the same time, had fallen ill.

Ccino runs through the halls as he ignores guards or other servants call out as he rushes past. He is thankful for his small build as it is easier to dodge arms and hands trying to stop him. He ignores the few people he bumps against as he rushes down the hall.

His chores had just finished, he would have preferred to not have to do them at all but no one would allow him to ask one of his few friends to do it for him as he remained with his boys.

Meaning he had rushed them and hadn’t bothered to double check. There were probably some mistakes but he doesn’t care. He needs to get to Nightmare and Dream!

He runs through the hall and the guards guarding the royal wing cross their spears. Ccino glares at them even as he is a head smaller. His breathing is hardly faster than his normal walking as he is beyond used to running “I have the right to enter and leave the royal wings.” He raises a brow as he motions towards the obvious apples adoring his clothing. The sign of his future standing and role and showcases his belonging to the royal family. It used to creep him out, it still does, but for now it has its uses.

It means that the guards let him pass as he rushes towards the right room.

He enters the large bedroom of the twins but it didn’t look in anyway like it used to. Before it would be a curious mix of sun and moon designs with two soft beds nearby and many beautiful little night lights of stars. The large windows in the perfect position to see the rising sun and a window near the ceiling to see the stars and moon at night. The large bookcase full of children books and stories that Ccino would read to the two as they sat in the large reading chair with Ccino. Easily fitting all three of them with room to spare.

Now the room was filled with people. All kinds of healers and doctors form all over the country. The twins had been laid right next to one another, separating the two seemed to unbalance their souls even more than the illness had caused.

Ccino rushes to the twins sides and feels his soul start to break all over again. Both their faces are twisted in pain. Nightmare seems to shudder with each breath, as if he can’t quite get his body to breath. Dream meanwhile is breathing fast, almost as if he is having a panic attack. Nightmare is burning up while Dream is freezing to the touch. Nightmare’s magic seems to be overcharged as Dream’s magic is almost all gone. Nightmare seems to be unable to move as Dream spasms every few seconds and had full blown seizures.

Ccino goes towards the twins and holds both of them, one hand in each of his. One hand feeling as if he is holding a fire while the other feels as if he dipped it in ice. He makes sure to keep holding on tightly to them both. “Hey there buddies…” he speaks softly. Ignoring the people around them working on trying to cure the twins.

Nightmare makes a soft noise as Dream’s eyes opens. Nightmare hadn’t been able to open his sockets himself, and when his sockets were opened for him he couldn’t make his eye lights appear to see. it scared him. Dream meanwhile could see but was unable to speak. Dream stares at him for a moment before he gives a tiny smile as he tries to wiggle a bit closer. Ccino makes sure to rub Dream’s hand with his thumb as he mutters “It is okay sweet Dream. I am here.” He makes sure that Dream heard alright and that seems the case and Dream obviously relaxes. Before his face turns to one full of pain as he shudders and whines softly, but Dream’s hand holds so tightly unto his and Ccino keeps rubbing his hand. Dream relaxes after a moment and pants quickly as Ccino focusses on Nightmare “Hey little Nightlight. I am sorry it took me so long to get here.”

Nightmare grumbles and mutters. His words slurred and not all clear “n-n-o… s-ss-orry…” he whines as he gasps to try and breath as he sweats.

Ccino hums softly to both of them as he keeps holding their hands. He wishes he could just grab both and hold them close. Like he had done for the last seven years of their shared lives. But the first time he tries to hold the twins close the doctors and healers all yelled and screamed at him. Nim had locked him out of the room of the twins for two full days and he ended up only being allowed in as the action had just distressed both twins more.

Now they had to keep it to handholding and a few soft kisses as he hums and talks to them. Hoping to offer a tiny bit of support where he can.

The door opens and Nim walks in. She stares at the scene before looking… disappointed? Annoyed? Ccino isn’t sure as he just dips his head. Making sure to show respect to the god walking this world. Nim walks over towards the healers and they get into a quiet conversation.

Ccino isn’t told what the situation is for obvious reasons. But he still wishes he knew. He still wishes someone would tell him what is wrong with his boys. What is hurting them so and how he can help them feel better.

Nim frowns as she speaks louder “What you are telling me. Is that it is no illness?”

The healer shakes as he answers, seems like even Nigel and Mar don’t have answers. And while a part, an ugly part, of Ccino finds glee and the two healers having to deal with anger from Nim. Ccino would have preferred to both be praised and complimented, because it would mean they would have cured his two.

Mar shakes as she almost sobs to answer “It isn’t anything we have ever heard of before! The magic! It isn’t normal! Something… Something is infecting the magic in them! Changing and pulling and there is no way to control it. No way to change its direction.”

Ccino acts as if he isn’t listening while in reality he pays close attention. That… Why would… Ccino thinks he knows what they are talking about. They are talking about It, aren’t they? But that doesn’t make sense. Because It had never seemed hostile. It was nice! Ccino can know as It always helped him get to place and helped him keep his balance! Why would It ever hurt the twins like this?

Nim frowns as she stares at the twins. Her eyes are cold and Ccino feels the need to hide both the boys from view but… he can’t do that. She is their mother. They both love her. He can’t come between that love. Between them. He remains seated.

Nim looks at the healer “What solutions do you have?”

Nigel looks nervous but none of the doctors answer making them have to take the front and center “A magical transfuse.”

Nim raises a brow and nods “Make it happen.” She goes to turn towards the door.

Nigel speaks up again “My liege! I apologise.” They bow before continuing to speak “We can’t just use any magic. They are young and their souls are fragile. They would need magic from a direct family member.”

Nim frowns as she watches them. Ccino however feels hope and relieve. Nim just needs to donate a bit of her magic to both the twins! It is so easy! She has more magic than anyone with her god status and both his boys would be bright and happy again!

Nim watches Nigel for a long time “And if I do not?”

Ccino’s soul feels cold as he stares. He… he understands why she never helped him or showed him mercy. He is but a dumb boy… but these are her sons. The crown princes! The long awaited and praised twins! Why… why would she… why wouldn’t she?

Nigel looks down as they speak “The only alternative is… to transfuse all of one of the two’s magic to the other.” They straighten their back “I will start with getting the procedure ready to transfer the younger twin’s magic towards our crown prince.”

Ccino is frozen. He is scared. No… no… They can’t… He glances down and realise with horror that both of them heard everything. Nightmare looks scared as he whines softly, his little hand shaking in Ccino’s own. Dream however just stares horrified. Shaking his skull and clearly trying to speak. Dream looks begging at Ccino as he keeps shaking his skull. Ccino gulps as he slowly gets up. His body shaking “Sirs…” Both look towards him. Nigel with obvious annoyance and rage as Nim just looks passive. Ccino feels his body want to run. Even so he pushes through. His boys need him. They are counting on him. Ccino focusses fully on his next sentence “They… neither of them wants this… this!” he stresses the words “Dream doesn’t want Nightmare to die to save him! Nightmare doesn’t want to die!” He can see Dream nodding as much as he can. Nightmare is breathing quickly as he clearly focusses on them. Ccino looks down and speaks “Please! Don’t do that! I beg you.” To finish off he falls to his knees as he kneels and remains in the position to either pray or beg.

Please.

Please.

A soft chuckle and even softer steps. The heat of Nim gets closer and Ccino remains begging and praying as a warm, much too hot hand, traces his cheek before making him look at Nim. Nim looks with unguarded glee at him “Oh how much you remind me of her… Just as pretty… Just as caring… Just as shining.” The hand keeps stroking his cheek and Ccino ignores the sick feeling that appears in his gut and feels it push up his throat.

Ccino finds his voice “Please… Please don’t…”

Nim giggles again as she remains staring at him gleefully “How could I say no to such pretty begging?”

Ccino feels a bit of hope return. Nim nods as she nudges him back up to his feet, a second hand strokes his other cheek and Ccino starts to feel uneasy. This… this is a new thing that has been happening ever since people declared him fourteen. Nim calling him over to her. Usually she just stares at him for a moment before sending him away again. A few times she ordered him to wear some fancy clothes and stuff. And a very few times she would do stuff like this, touching his face in some way. It feels bad… really bad…

He hides the discomfort as he waits patiently. Nim hums as she looks at healer Nigel “We will not do the procedure.” Ccino feels intense relieve and sees Dream looking a bit happier as Nightmare’s breathing calms a bit.

Nim hums as she walks towards her boys with one last stroke of Ccino’s skull. Ccino remains in place as he stands straight. He waits impatiently as Nim walks over to his boys. Just a quick boost of magic is all she needs to give them and both will be fine again! Ccino will make sure they take it easy of course. Make sure they heal and that everything truly is stable in their magic. Oh! Ccino can make them some cinnamon buns! He hopes the import of spices has arrived yet. Then he can make the best version of the nice treat! He knows it is one of Dream’s favourites and Nightmare always enjoys them as well!

Nim stands by the two small beds. She is bright and shines through the room. Nim hums “Such a shame. So much wasted time. But imperfection will just harm my legacy.”

Everything feels cold.

What?

A hand reaches down towards Nightmare first. She goes straight towards his chin. She tilts the small skull up before her hand moves down. It removes the blanket covering Nightmare and hovers over the spot of his sternum for a moment.

A loud and wet crack.

She…

She…

A moment later Nim pulls his hand back. A very small purple soul in her hand as Nightmare lays completely still. Mouth still open from his scream of pain but having gone quiet almost instantly. He shudders and shakes as Nim raises the soul high. One hand holding the purple soul she turns away from her dying son. She focusses on Dream.

Dream stares at her. Shocked and confused and… scared… Dream glances around and reaches towards him.

Ccino doesn’t think as he starts to run towards him but a hand grabs him. Ccino doesn’t bother to look around as he tugs and pushes at the hand holding his arm “No let go! Let go. Dream!” he stresses the prince’s name as he stares back. Dream is shaking as he stares at Nim with pure fear.

Nim looks at him coldly “A shame. I truly thought you would be perfect. Yet you failed me. You made me do this. You are the one who forced my hand.” Dream shakes and tries to speak but nothing leaves his mouth.

Nim holds her hand above his sternum but instead of punching her way towards the soul and breaking everything she flexes open her hand. Dream shudders and his mouth falls open in a silent scream. His sternum behind his shirt lights up bright yellow and Ccino can smell the scent of burning monster matter.

Moments later the soul is forced out of his body, having been made to burn a way out. Tears are streaming his face as he reaches towards Nim. Nim just holds the two small souls by her face. Not even looking into Dream’s direction. Dream tries to reach but his arm and hand quickly fall towards the bed. Shaking and in pain as the very thing that makes him him has been removed from him. Stolen from him.

Ccino shakes his skull but can’t find any words. The hand keeps an iron grip on him as he tugs at it. The souls… The twins need their souls and-

Nim opens her mouth which seems to rip open her cheeks and part of her neck. Much larger and sharper than ever before.

And she eats the souls.

And the twins are dust.

Ccino feels every bit of fight leave his body.

They…

They are… gone?

But…

But… what about… They were…

Nim hums and frowns “Much weaker than either should have been.” She glances back and chuckles “Oh no need to be so dramatic.” Soft steps and his face is raised to look up at her.

Oh… he had fallen to his knees… didn’t he?

Nim brushes his cheek with her thumb and Ccino sees the finger come back wet.

Oh… he is crying…

Nim chuckles again but there is a warning edge to her voice “Remember what I told you dear. Crying makes you wrinkle. You are not allowed to cry.”

Ccino wants to scream. He wants to break something. But as soon as the thoughts are there they are gone. Because it wouldn’t matter. His twins are still gone…

Ccino sobs as he shakes “Why… why… Why did you… kil-” He chokes on the word and sobs as his whole body shakes. His soul hurts. He doesn’t care if she is mad at him anymore. He doesn’t care about anything.

Please.

Please he will do anything.

Please give them back.

Nim chuckles “Oh it was needed dear. I can’t waste such a precious resource as magic. It was much better for me to take the magic that I originally given them back.” She sighs “It will complicate things as there is a schedule as for when the ritual needs to take place. But it will have to do for now.” she pats his cheek twice “Now. You go back to your room and clean up too. From now on when you are done with your chores but you are still on the clock I expect you to be in the throne room to serve me.” She straightens her back and wipes off some dust off… off her… her dress..

She is acting as if it is just some dust… and not… as if it isn’t all that is left of.. left of…

Ccino feels a guard nudge him and he raises to his feet. He bows and leaves the room. He staggers back to his room and enters.

He falls to the ground and starts sobbing as he hugs himself. They are gone.

No more bedtime stories. No more playing games. No more watching Dream proudly perform a magic trick. No more sharing good books with Nightmare. No more watching them play and joke around.

They are gone…

The only lights in this hell.

Gone…

--

Ccino still feels as if he is stuck in a haze. Or maybe like he is stuck underwater?

Three years have passed and he still misses the twins every single day. He keeps expecting to turn around and spot them in the doorway. To reach out when he is barely awake and feel them laying close for warmth and cuddles.

But each time he is forced to realise the cruel reality.

They are gone.

One of the panels on the wall shifts slightly. Showing a small hiding hole.

Ccino ignores it as he keeps walking.

He knows now what the price of It is. And Ccino regrets ever accepting It’s help.

Ccino remembers as if it is yesterday. It is the only clear day he still fully remembers. Everything else blurs together. He had been crying for hours. He had felt empty and exhausted but he had been unable to sleep…

Because he had been thinking…

Ccino continues to stare at the dark stone of the ceiling above him. His sockets still itch and hurt as he is all out of tears. He can’t… How is he even supposed to do anything now? He was… he was there for the twins… He loves them both so much. It hurts so much.

But the fear. The fear of a single thought that would not leave him.

His throat feels cry and painful after all his crying but he still whispers into his dark room “Are… Are you here? Can you… hear me?”

Nothing happens for a moment. Everything is the same as always when. The noise from outside of his room seems to disappear. Ccino isn’t sure if he is starting to see things but the ceiling itself seems to move slightly. As waves in a puddle.

Ccino struggles to speak through his dry throat “Please… Please just… just tell me… did… did you do it? Did you make them ill?” Are you the reason why they were killed?

There is no voice. No clear answer. More shifting and his door creaks a little before silence returns.

Ccino feels close to crying “Please… Did… did you make them ill? Just move anything if you did…” There is more silence and for a moment Ccino feels hopeful but then movement by his window. Ccino turns his skull and watches as the latch on it slowly unlocks. It opens and Ccino can feel the small breeze enter his room. It makes him shiver even as the air from outside is warm and dry. The scent of the warm night slowly fills his room as he sobs again.

He rolls unto his side as he hugs himself closer. Rolling up as far as he can as he starts crying all over again.

The price for this thing’s help had been the twin’s health.

Ccino is an idiot.

Nothing is ever free.

Not far from him a statue moves a tiny bit. Instead of going towards that he keeps going straight.

He stopped using It’s tunnels all together.

As effect it obviously meant that his workflow and skills seemed to worsens but he honestly doesn’t care. He does not care what others think or say about him. It doesn’t matter anymore. Maybe it never actually mattered.

The first week his work results took a nose dive people just assumed it had been as he was distracted with the loss of the twins. That he was grieving. After that they would make comments about him having gotten slower. Ccino would just lie with a straight face that this was as fast as he had always been able to go.

He was in luck. As the people in charge like to be right and amazing. They reasoned themselves into believing that Ccino had just always been slow compared to the others. And that they had been merciful and nice enough to let him go at the pace he was possible. Because even if he wasn’t the fastest anymore his quality was by far the best.

Running steps are his only warning before something, or someone, smashes into him and he falls back on the ground. He groans as his body aches with leftover burns and scratches from the day before. Luckily that is all his fall did, irritate already existing sores and pains. He looks up and tilts his skull slightly.

He hasn’t seen this person before. He looks the other over very quickly. They are a human, male maybe? They seem young as they stare with large eyes at him. He is dressed in a very basic guard uniform without any weapons and no extra markings. Not yet a cadet? Maybe a rookie? Trainee?

They are staring shocked at him with their hands raised. Seemingly unable to decide if they want to help him up or not.

That is when they glance at his face and sputter “I-! I am so sorry! Please sir! I know I should- I mean I should have watched where I was going! Please forgive me!” and he bows deeply.

Ccino immediately feels uneasy but it is to be expected. He raises a hand and gives a small smile. Trying to steer this conversation away from whatever territory it is going “It is alright. Accidents happen. No harm no foul.” He rises to his feet and makes sure no dirt remains on his clothing. He gives the other another smile “Hello. Nice to meet you. I am Ccino. Who are you?” and he waits.

The other keeps looking down with obvious shame on his face “I am Rogers. I am so terrible sorry sir. I swear I didn’t mean to.”

Ccino looks away as he rubs his arms “It is alright… and no need for sir. I don’t really…” he isn’t sure how to say what he wants. He decides to go for a slightly different approach. “Not to forget, I am pretty sure you are older. Though I will have to admit I am not the best with estimating ages for humans.” And he smiles.

The other at least seems to relax a little bit as Ccino remains calm. He still looks embarrassed and guilty but he is at least looking up “Thank you for… Thank you. I am still new and started shortly ago.” He rubs his neck as he looks down again “Still getting an basic idea for where what is and I was running late.”

Ccino needs to think for a moment “Oh! You were with the new recruits that arrived two weeks ago?” Strange that the guard already let those in training wander around. Not his responsibility luckily but still, that seems a bit early “In that case I will not keep you.” he gives his usual half bow as he continues walking down the fall. After a few steps he however stops and turns around “Oh. And Recruit Rogers?”

Rogers is still standing in the spot he was before. Looking at him curiously and waiting “Yes sir?”

Ccino ignores the title for now as he speaks “You want to go left at the first chance you get. Then go straight and you will end up at the stairs leading towards the main hall.” And he turns back to continue walking on towards his destination.

He thinks Rogers says something but he can’t quite hear it before he hears the other run towards his goal. Ccino doesn’t mind. He is used to being isolated.

Even if it got a lot worse lately.

Ccino glances into the reflection of the glass, and while he can’t see his own face quite that clearly he can see the large chain around his neck. Interwoven with his upper spine and collarbones to make it secure and a pain to remove even if he wanted to. And Ccino isn’t a big enough idiot to try and remove it. He knows the consequences.

Personally? The idea of getting molten gold casted on him to truly form fit something does not sound appealing. He will take the interwoven and slightly uncomfortable golden chains over that option any day.

Ccino doesn’t even hate the discomfort the most. It is annoying but he can handle it. No. It is what ir represents that makes him feel ill to his very soul.

Nim gifted it him when he was assumed to be sixteen. On the anniversary of him being there for nine years. When Nim made his new role perfectly clear for all to see.

Funny…

He had been so very afraid to become a toy and the first harem member for Dream that he worried about it nightly.

Yet in the end he just ended up in Nim’s harem… as the favourite no less.

Is this karma? For him having been so afraid? Had he let it influence him?

Hadn’t been losing the twins enough punishment? For being selfish and asking for help from another god? Instead of serving the god he had been supposed to?

He doesn’t know.

He just feels numb… He is so tired…

He turns another corner and gets to the right room. It is large and decorated with gold fire and large orange gemstones, the same type of gem that is in his necklace. Ccino always thought of it more as a pet collar but maybe that is just him being unthankful again.

He enters the room and glances around. Seems like he got here before Nim. That is good. Nim gets… frustrated when Ccino is late… He enters the dressing room connected to the bedroom and takes just a moment to take a deep breath.

He goes towards the vanity and gets to work on some light make up and paintings. It isn’t a lot. Just some fake magical markings like in Sanctuary. Some extra black by his sockets to make them appear bigger. Highlighting his cheekbones. He ends up staring at himself in the mirror.

He never liked seeing himself… It brought back memories that just hurt… But this past year he had been forced to look at it a lot as he got ready for evenings with Nim or when he had to go with her to places.

He is just so tired.

Ccino sighs before walking towards one of the many rows of hangers with dresses. Ccino can’t help but feel the return of his annoyance and distaste. He has started to really dislike dresses. It isn’t because he thinks they aren’t beautiful. It is just… Nim likes him to wear them. The way Nim speaks about how they look on him and showcase his best features.

It makes him feel gross.

Still he grabs one of the pink dresses. Knowing those go rather well with the orange gem as he gets dressed. Immediately feeling exposed with the open back and the cut in the side almost all the way up to his pelvis.

He truly hates it.

Even so after getting ready he sits on the bed and waits. Trying to not think about what will happen once again and trying to not panic.

It is no use to panic after all.

His mind thinks back to when he first lost his twins… the pain it brought back. He had been unable to do much but cry that first week. Unable to focus and missing them so badly. The idea to quickly get a memento of them had appeared in his mind. Just a little something to keep in his room and hug close when the grieve got too much.

He had ran towards their room the first chance he got. Hoping to maybe get Dream’s blanket or a well-loved plushie or maybe Nightmare’s favourite book.

Only to find the room completely bare. Well not completely but it had been completely transformed. Instead of the beautiful yellow and purple walls they had been a neutral light blue. Instead of the two beds with canopies decorated with tiny stars and lights, there had been one queen sized bed in brown colours. The cabinets with their toys and games replaced with a vanity. Their closets filled with their go to outfits for sleep replaced with another closet. All the drawings, the little projects, their homework that would be spread across the room and taped to the wall in their little craft corner, replaced with nothing but a carpet on the ground.

Gone… Everything about them… gone…

Ccino had just stood their frozen and when he asked anyone they had just looked at him as if he was an idiot.

“Why remember them? They are dead and failures. We only serve the living and those who matter.”

The door to the room opens and a soft coo “Oh you look beautiful as always.” Nim sounds content as she walks in. She turns away from him as she starts removing some of her jewellery. Ccino gets to his feet and walks over to undo her cape as always.

Ccino follows through the routine as he pays attention to what Nim says. Nim complains about commoners daring to approach her. Them whining about them not having enough food and needing help and care. Her being annoyed that they can’t appreciate all the works she does into keeping everything perfect!

Ccino hums and nods “It is truly a tragedy they can’t see these things like you my liege.” It had become easier to lie to Nim. Even if it felt uncomfortable, the slave contract interwoven into his being from his young age displeased with him lying to the one he is supposed to serve. It always leaves a nasty taste in his mouth and makes his tongue feel weird. But it is better than telling his honest opinions and making Nim angry.

Nim pauses and turns to him. He was never truly able to read her face with the flames of her fire elemental being. But he knows how to read her voice and her overall body language. She is pleased.

Nim strokes his cheek before holding it again. “Oh Ccino you always know just want to say.” She stares at him for a moment longer, looking pleased “You do truly remind me so much of my dear Lyra.”

That name again. She mentions this Lyra person a lot. Ccino isn’t sure who they are but it seems like they were important.

Nim hums as she takes his hand and leads it towards the bed. Ccino feels the spike of panic before letting himself zone out as best as he can. He can’t zone it all out sadly. The burn of her touch and arousal always hurts. It will always hurt. The way her magic overwhelms and scorches.

But, like always, eventually it ends. His pains still there and the sores much worse. Knowing there are new burns and black marks of where the fire touched. He knows he will need to treat those the next day and inspect his weak and fragile ecto and treat it as best as he can.

Only for it all to happen again the next day.

Even with how tired he feels he can’t fall asleep. Unable to find any comfort or rest as he lays next to the god he was forced to serve. At least until she is done with him or the end of his days.

Whichever happens first.

--

He lets Robin help him out of his complex ballgown as he tries to hide his slight excitement. Trying to play the tired and overwhelmed part.

Robin hums “You know. Our king will soon realise you aren’t actually tired when you want to leave the party.” She shoots him a look as she helps the dressing robe over his shoulders as he puts his arms into the sleeves.

Robin is one of the very few servants that still speaks to him like normal. The others all too afraid of accidentally misstepping and him telling their king that they were disrespectful. It hurts that they think of him like that. It is why he values both Robin and Rogers so much. Robin never stopped seeing him as the rookie servant that joined a little bit after she started. Robin had been helping him since the start and clearly he should have appreciated her more.

Ccino gives a shrug “It is fine. The king prefers to be alone with these parties anyway.” It gives her the chance to look for new curiosities she likes. Looking for new people she wants to keep. Ccino feels bad for making others deal with her but any moment where the focus isn’t on him is welcome.

It had been strange. Nim holding him after a night and asking him if he disliked her spending time with her harem. Ccino hadn’t been completely honest, having been honest would mean telling her he preferred her spending time with the harem. Instead he remained diplomatic and told her that he knew she was a god and that he was but mortal. That there was no way he would be able to keep up with her needs on his own. She had cooed and been so content about his answer. Even if Ccino could have done without the reward she gifted him afterwards. He hadn’t been able to move without something hurting for days.

Robin giggles “You just don’t want to be at the parties.” She grins before a small frown covers her face. She is staring at his hand and Ccino glances down, seeing a very clear burnmark stand out on his white bones. Ccino quickly tugs his sleeve to cover it. Robin doesn’t say a word but does open a drawer to grab some oils before gently applying it to the mark.

Robin whispers softly “Lets hope our king finds some to her liking. She could expend her harem.”

Ccino isn’t sure when Robins started to see the cracks in his mask. When Robin started to realise that Ccino was deeply unhappy. Maybe all that it takes to see through his lies is just spending time with him. Or maybe he is just a shit liar. Probably both… He just hopes his friend won’t do anything foolish. Robin can be quick to act.

Robin hums as she puts the dress away “Well! That is all. I assume you want to be going back to your room soon… Especially as it is a ball night.” and she has the nerve to shoot him an amused look.

Starting to think it is just his lies that are shit.

He keeps looking at her before giving a bright smile as he hums “What can I say. I am very tired.” Robin giggles but doesn’t comment on his answer as she turns back to further clean the dressing room.

“In that case! I hope you have a good night.”

She is very quick to act, and smug for that matter, and sadly very observant.

Ccino quickly flees the room before walking towards the king’s bedroom. Well technically also his he supposes but he never saw it as his, it never felt safe and secure as his old room had felt. He misses it.

Still he enters the dark room. Quiet and empty. The balcony door is open and the soft summer breeze makes the mesh curtains move in it. The moon light shines in which lights the room just enough for him to see.

Ccino closes the door behind him as he sighs in relieve. A moment without the king nearby at last. He hopes she remains at the party for a long time.

He walks over towards the small un suite dressing room and undoes his dressing robes. He drops it on the chair as he walks towards the large bed, larger than any bed has a right to be.

He lays back on it and sighs as he closes his sockets for a moment. It is peacefully quiet as he enjoys it for a moment.

A small shift and he opens his sockets to see another person hanging over him. Completely dark sockets with black tear marks. A large grin on his face. Black leather clothing.

The other grins widely “Well look at this. Here I came to steal a treasure but it seems I found the biggest treasure of all.” The other grins as he raises Ccino’s hand and kisses it “For a god your king is rather dumb to not guard her greatest treasure better.”

Ccino can’t help but snort as he grins at the other “Stop being cheeky.”

The other skeleton grins as he sits upright to make room for Ccino to sit up himself “Just being honest.” Killer shrugs as his bright soul lights up the room in a by now familiar and calming red light. Not as the flames of Nim, no, much softer and less bright. It is a comfort by now.

Ccino smiles at the other “I am happy you are here.”

Killer looks at him and grins “As if you could keep me away. The vines are so easy to climb to get in and around.”

Ccino grins as he leans closer, he can’t help the amusement in his voice “So, what will this dangerous thief do? Now that he has found himself not in the treasure room but with someone else?”

Killer grins as his arms lock around him and kisses his cheek “Pray to the gods he doesn’t believe in that the most beautiful treasure of all finds him worthy.” And he wiggles his eye brows.

Ccino laughs but pulls Kiler down to lay in the bed. Relaxing back as he lets Killer trace his body. Letting his mind, body and soul enjoy the affection and careful touches. Gentle and slow.

It is aleays slow. There is never a rush even if both know the risks. Killer never rushes these nights and Ccino needs them badly.

Ccino met Killer in town one time. When Nim had been showing off her radiance and when Ccino had been dragged outside with her. He had felt exposed and seen as he had been uncomfortable. Only for a strange but handsome skeleton to stop before him. Cheerfully introducing himself and even daring to kiss Ccino’s hand in greeting. Interesting enough though, before he did kiss his hand Killer had asked Ccino if that would be okay. Ccino had been surprised and had in shock nodded his okay.

And that had been it. Nothing else. Killer had gently held his hand before kissing the back oh so softly. Then the guards noticed the skeleton and Killer had ran away as he waved back cheerfully. Shouting about how beautiful and nice he had been. Ccino had replayed the meeting in bed that night. Over and over in his mind as he ignored the trailing hands of Nim. It had made it bearable for a while.

But that was not the only time he saw Killer, only a few days later Killer found the king’s room instead of the treasure room, it had been Killer’s first time being in this exact room. Ccino had been getting ready for the king when Killer just rolled into the room through the open window. They had stared at each other before Ccino had told him he was in the wrong wing to steal valuables. Killer had sputtered and seemed lost for words as his soul had been quickly switching between a round shape and the normal soul shape. In the end Ccino had just mentioned that he could probably just go back outside and go to the west side before finding the treasure he had been looking for.

Ccino is pretty sure that Killer had walked backwards towards the window blindly only to trip and fall out. There had been no crash as Killer had managed to catch himself but it had been close. Ccino hadn’t been able to help himself, he laughed when he heard Killer shout a quick ‘I am okay! I meant to do that!’ it had honestly made his night.

After that? Killer kept showing up. Not every night of course. But at least one time a month if not once a week. Ccino had been excited. Killer brought stories of adventure and freedom. He would describe what he had seen as they both leaned against the balcony railing. Ccino would lean close to hear every secret detail. It painted a picture of the world outside of this castle. Outside of these walls.

It wasn’t until later, almost a year after them meeting, that they got physical. Ccino won’t lie, he loves Killer. Killer had made his life bearable and gave him hope for something else, that there was hope for his life to be better. Ccino knows of course, that one day Killer will grow bored. That the excitement of fucking the king’s consort behind her back would wear off in some way. But for now Ccino greedily held unto these moments.

Even if the first time having sex with Killer had brought him regret. It had been amazing and beautiful and Ccino just felt happy and love. Only for him to realise what he had done. What this would mean for Killer. Back then Ccino had tried to break of their relationship and friendship. Break it off before Nim would realise what happened and kill Killer for it. Ccino didn’t, and still doesn’t, care that he would die for this but Ccino doesn’t want Killer to be punished for Ccino’s mistakes.

But Killer hadn’t wanted to end their nights. End the contact they had.

Which brings them to here. Two years after Ccino met Killer when Ccino had been twenty-two. A year after their secret friendship turned into a secret relationship of sorts. Both knowing that if Nim ever finds out it will mean a terrible end. But neither willing to break it quite yet.

Ccino sighs as he lays in Killer’s arms. Between Killer’s body and Killer’s soul. The warmth of it is welcome to him as he pushes his face by Killer’s collarbone and neck. Feeling content and safe and, well, happy.

Killer is purring up a storm as he holds him “I missed you.”

Ccino snorts as he pushes closer “Not like I am ever anywhere else…” the hands and arms around him tense for a moment before both arms pull him closer. Ccino frowns as he kisses the sternum he is laying against “Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring the mood down.”

Killer just holds him “Please… don’t apologise. It is okay.” a moment of silence “Oh wait! I got you a gift!” Killer sounds very excited.

Ccino turns around just enough to glance up at Killer, seeing him smile brightly “A gift?”

Killer nods and he pulls away to lean over the edge of the large bed, not caring at all that he is showing off his naked bones to the whole world at the moment. Killer sits back upright with a bag in his hands. Ccino sits up a little as he pulls the blanket up with him, making sure to hide the worst old burns and wounds from view. Just because Killer knows doesn’t mean it makes it easier for Killer to see. Ccino doesn’t want him to be in discomfort.

Killer looks a bit guilty “Okay. I lied. It are two gifts!” he grins and holds up a curious red ball with green spikes that make it almost teardrop shaped. Killer hands it to him and Ccino studies it. It is a plant?

Killer grins as he looks excited “It is dragon fruit! It grows on cacti and they are real cool!” he takes the fruit back and takes out his knife. Ccino watches curiously as Killer cuts it open and makes small pieces for him “Here!” he grins.

Ccino knows he shouldn’t and he hesitates “I don’t know Kills… It isn’t yet my eat day…” he only is allowed to eat once every four days… He already ate two days ago…

Killer frowns deeply at what he said before raising it up to him “It is fruit! That is totally fine!” and he waits.

Ccino frowns as he slowly reaches for it “Well… just a little…” he will have to make sure to eat a bit less when it is his meal time again. But Killer truly seems excited… He takes a little piece and looks it over curiously. The inside is white with tiny black dots. He sniffs it before taking a small bite. The taste itself is very light! But it is nice! Ccino eats a bit more but soon stops to not overeat.

Killer frowns but doesn’t mention it as he eats what is leftover. The cleans his hands quickly before opening his bag again before pulling out a-

Wow…

A beautiful crystal and glass statue… in the shape of a beautiful rose. It is truly beautiful. Ccino can’t help but stare as Killer looks a bit nervous as he talks “I… I wanted to get you flowers. But I know with the weather here it would be harder to take care of and I wasn’t sure which would be the best. Not to forget I didn’t want to get you something that would just die because… that is depressing… I figured… I mean if you don’t like it that is fine too. I just. I wanted to get you something cool that would last.”

Ccino smiles at the other. His soul feeling light and feeling giggly on happiness “It is amazing. I love it.” He takes the creation with gentle hands and stares in awe at the many details. It is incredible! The details and colours are just gorgeous even with the low lighting. Ccino smiles as he looks around before getting up to grab one of the glass vases around the room. They are just decorative anyway and he moves it to his side of the bed. He places it on the nightstand and puts the rose into it. He smiles when he notices the muted colours of the vase really make the rose stand out.

He smiles at Killer “Once I get the chance I will move it to my own room. I am not there a whole lot but at least it will be safe.” He snorts as he sees Killer just stare with a small fluster covering his face. His soul is clearly in a heart shape and wobbles madly. Ccino can’t help but laugh softly as he walks over and puts his arms around his neck and leans close to the other “Mmh. Such a lovely gift… It would only be fair if I thanked you.”

Killer is still staring with his mouth slightly open as he nods slowly before sputtering “Only if you want to! Like. Really want to! I am just as happy to just lay with you and talk I swear.”

Ccino smiles as he leans closer but he freezes. He hears heels. Killer and him glance at the door at the same time before Killer curses softly and dives for his clothes covering the floor. Ccino leans over himself to help figure out which are his and which are Killer’s.

They manage to locate the clothes but the door is starting to open and the balcony is just too far away. Killer dives into the walk in closet and Ccino manages to cover himself just in time and act as if he is sleeping when the door opens.

Ccino makes sure his soul and emotional state are both calm, and then he waits and listens.

The heels walk around the room and Ccino realises the issue with Killer being inside the walk in closet. With the fear of what could and would happen to Killer if he is found he turns towards Nim and makes sure to keep his voice open and welcoming “You are back already? Wasn’t the party fun?”

Nim pauses as she turns towards him. The closet door slightly open but she is no longer looking at it “You are still awake?” She leaves the closet for what it is as she walks over. Just a few steps and she towers over him and the bed. She looks highly amused and pleased “Even already ready.”

Ccino finds the right lie to tell quickly “Even if I know you would be at the party there is always a hope you would prefer something else.” The lie burns his tongue and taste vile.

Nim looks very pleased and locks him in so quickly “Always with the compliments. So sweet to me.” Which is followed by a kiss.

The kiss honestly tastes worse than the lie did. Ccino dislikes everything about this but remains relaxed and placid, that way it is over the soonest and with least amount of burns and pain.

Ccino isn’t sure why, but he is just not compatible with Nim, at all. He doesn’t know why, maybe it is because his magic is weak, maybe it is because he is fragile and less healthy. But instead of the fire elemental nature of Nim just feeling warm to him. It burns and stings whenever she is near. Touching feels even worse and Ccino wonders if that is what touching lava feels like. It lingers and even the memory of the touches give an echo of pain.

Nim pulls away looking content as she finishes undressing. Ccino hums as he makes some light conversation “Were none at the party to your liking my king?”  Ccino feels the too hot hand touch his face. His face feels as if it is getting a sunburn already.

Nim looks bright and content as all her four eyes look at him in little upturned half moons “None of them looked interesting at all.” she sighs “Honestly the quality is decreasing.” She looks annoyed. Her gaze shifts around before frowning at the new addition to the room “Mmh… Where did that come from…?”

Ccino hides his anxiety behind a slow blink before lazily looking towards the precious glass rose. He takes a moment to stare at it before humming “I believe… It was a present from one of your many suitors?” the lie fills up his throat as if he ate sand. He just smiles back at Nim.

Nim sighs long and loud as she leans on her hand, still laying over him “Oh I do not remember who gave me this little trinket.” She sighs as she shoots him an amused look “Honestly how am I supposed to keep track of all of them at this point?”

Ccino just nods as he easily tells her what she wants to hear “If you do not remember them they couldn’t have been impressive at all.”

Nim nods again “True, as always my dear.” The term of endearing makes him feel ill. She looks back at the glass statue “What to do with it… mmh. I can’t remember if I had a spot in mind. Any ideas dear?”

Ccino lays back and frowns a tiny bit to make a show of thinking. He hums as he keeps acting as if he is thinking before answering “Well, showing it off would send the wrong message and instead of it just adding to the decorations it could be seen as a statement that the suitor would be unworthy of.”

Nim frowns as he mouth shifts downwards and her many eyes narrow “Them daring to even think that?! How arrogant!!” She sounds enraged and the fire burns hotter.

Ccino nods as he answers with the right sentence “You are perfection. Anyone could only hope to gain your affection.”

Nim’s rage fades as she looks rather smug “That. I am.” She sighs as she waves the flower off without a second thought “I honestly don’t care. It is but a tiny trinket of someone too low to deserve to be on my mind for even a moment.” She looks at him and smiles “You can have it. It fits you.” and she looks amused.

Ccino ignores the dig about how she thinks about him as just a trinket, it isn’t anything new and he got what he wanted, he makes sure to nod and bow his head as much as he can in this position “Thank you my king. You are too kind and giving.” The second part makes it feel like his tongue is being stabbed.

Nim looks so very smug “I truly am. Now. I have needs.” Her hands start to move and as soon as he feels that he stops paying attention. He lets his god and king touch him however she wishes and lets her manipulate his body however she sees fit.

The worst part is honestly that Killer is still stuck in the closet but with him distracting Nim he will be able to escape rather easily.

It isn’t as if this is the first time Killer got locked in and he experienced Ccino doing his purpose and pleasure Nim. Doesn’t make it any easier.

His mind wonders to the first time this happened. Not too long after he and Killer got physical. As that is when Killer started to dare to stay longer. They had been very careful as they both understood the risks but the time they could spend together in bed just laying there. Holding one another and just being together. It made Ccino imagine that he was just a normal person. Just a normal monster who was allowed to get crushes and interests and who fell for the mysterious handsome stranger that would sneak into his room at night to spend time together.

It had been a beautiful fantasy that he could enjoy. So of course it ended up being ruined by Nim appearing earlier than planned. Killer had to hide under the bed itself.

Ccino remains frozen as he feels Nim get up. She sighs happily as Ccino feels the hand stroke his spine. The pain is unbearable but he remains silent. He keeps acting as if he is asleep. Please. Please just leave.

Nim giggles and soon the door closes as she leaves. Leaving him behind alone in the room and Ccino can’t stop himself from holding himself closer as he feels the tears leave his sockets.

The pain… it hurts so badly. But worse is knowing that… Killer now knows. Killer is now truly aware of how disgusting he is. It is his duty to give the king what she wants but that is no excuse. Ccino doesn’t even try to stop her and he must have looked so weak and useless. Killer is gone now and will never return and-

A hand touches his arm and Ccino can’t help but freeze up fully. Is Nim back? He didn’t hear the door and-

“Shit! Right sorry. I am so sorry. Ccino? It is just me. Can I… Can I touch you? Wait not like that! Just. Please? I can help I swear I will help.”

Ccino can’t help but turn quickly. Shocked. Why is Killer here. He glances at the door “Kills? Why are you here? You need to leave.” The sun is already out. Killer will have a much harder time sneaking out without the cover of darkness. Why would he still be here?! Nim would have been asleep and that should have given him the perfect moment to escape!

Killer sputters “Why am I here?! Ccino… I… I couldn’t just leave!” he stresses the word as his hands still hover “I… Is it okay if I pick you up?”

Ccino blinks and just numbly nods. Killer moves slowly as he picks him up and Ccino can’t help but flinch as a burn is touched wrong. Killer apologises even as Ccino softly reassures him it isn’t his fault.

Killer ends up carrying him towards the bathroom where he puts him on the edge of the bath. He turns on the water and Ccino watches the tub fill up. It is large and dug into the wall almost. It is large enough to fit Nim. Ccino glances and sees Killer rummaging through the different cabinets, clearly searching for something.

Ccino glances down and frowns as he sees the burns on his arms and wrists. He studies the shape and feels cold to his soul as he realises it is shaped perfectly like her hand. Are all of them like that? He feels sick. He wants to throw up. Why did he agree to let Killer carry him? It is so obvious now that he is just some useless toy and used and-

Killer lets out a loud ‘Ahah!’ as he proudly raises a few bottles. He rushes back over and puts it in the tub. Killer smiles at him and Ccino just glances down again. He doesn’t want to… to see the disgust and regret. Will he lose him now? It would hurt to not have Killer like him anymore. But what if Killer doesn’t even want to be friends anymore?

He doesn’t know what to do…

Killer speaks quietly “Hey… I am going to pick you up now okay? I am going to put you in the bath… is that okay?” Ccino just gives him a nod.

Killer doesn’t move right away and it just makes Ccino feel worse. Before Killer would be excited and joyful whenever Ccino gave him okays or said it was fine… yet now he hesitates… is he really that gross now?

Killer’s hands and arms finally help him of the edge and into the warm water. Ccino frowns as glance down. Had Killer put some kind of bathing oil into it? It feels softer somehow.

Killer is quiet for a moment before speaking “I… I found some stuff against burns… can I… may I help you with some of those wounds?”

Right. Because they are obvious. Ccino nods again and keeps looking down even as he holds out his arm.

The silence around them is chilling. Ccino is not used to this. Not from Killer. Killer is warmth and joy and energy. He doesn’t like being quiet and Ccino doesn’t like him being quiet. It doesn’t feel right and makes him uneasy. It is not the comfort he had come to known, come to rely on…

“I… I never knew that this… it got this bad.” Killer speaks softly as he cares for the burns.

Ccino shrugs as he mutters “Others don’t seem to mind.” he isn’t sure why he mentions that. He isn’t sure why he said that. Why doesn’t he just lie and say it is normal? Why doesn’t he just lie and says it is great?

Why is it harder to lie to Killer, than it is to Nim?

Killer is silent for a moment before speaking “I am going to hug you… is that okay?”

Ccino shrugs “If you want to.” It would be nice… real nice…

Killer still hesitates. But then two arms lock around his shoulders and Killer shakes as he just pulls him tightly against him. It is so nice and Ccino feels himself relax. Killer’s arms keep shaking lightly and it seems to grow worse when Ccino leans fully into his hold. Is this too much? Is he making Killer uncomfortable?

Killer keeps holding him close “Ccino?”

Ccino hums and waits.

Killer pauses for a moment before speaking again “Run away with me. Please.”

Ccino blinks and glances at Killer “What?”

Killer stares at him and smiles nervously “I know. I know it is a lot. But. You are hurt. She hurts you. Please. I could deal with that creep of a lady touching you as long as you enjoyed it! But you don’t! It hurts you and you don’t… You deserve much better than that Ccino!” And he waits.

Ccino is… not sure what to say. He is mostly confused. Doesn’t… doesn’t Killer understand? Ccino just stares at him “I… I don’t? This isn’t about me? If our god-king wants something she gets it. Because it is her right.” he feels cold. Is his breathing getting faster? There is no reason to feel cold after thinking that. And even less to feel panicked and anxious. “I… I have the privilege to serve her and do as she wishes and… and…” why is this hard to say? It shouldn’t be hard to say.

Killer shakes his skull “No!” Ccino can’t help but flinch and Killer holds his hand “No. No that isn’t fair. Just because she is some king person doesn’t mean she gets to rape you whenever she fucking wants!”

Ccino frowns at him. The way he said that seems to hold weight but… Ccino never really… So he asks “You… you say that like it matters… why does it matter? What is rape?” Ccino is very confused.

Killer stares shocked before looking down as his whole body shakes. His sockets are narrowed as he straight up growls out the next sentence “Oh of course those fucking assholes didn’t bother to explain what rape is. Or abuse probably either!” Ccino feels a bit insulted. He knows what abuse is!

Killer stares at him again “It is sexual abuse, it is when someone forces sexual interactions. Stuff you don’t want to do. That is bad because it is something everyone needs to be okay with. And you aren’t okay with this.”

Ccino frowns and shakes his skull “That… that can’t be right.” his voice shakes slightly as he repeats what he said before “You need to understand. She is a god. The king of our country. What she wants is her right. Anything she wants is okay because she is a god. It doesn’t… it isn’t…”

Killer just looks at him sadly as the arms return to embrace him. Killer just keeps holding him close “What she did to you is terrible. No matter who or what she is, she shouldn’t just get to abuse people. She shouldn’t just be allowed to touch you when you don’t want her to touch you. She shouldn’t be allowed to hurt you. It isn’t right. She isn’t right.”

Ccino leans into his hold. Shaking even as he doesn’t feel cold. He needs him.

Killer whispers “Run away with me… I know it is scary and new. But I swear it will be okay. You will like Ink, he can be a lot but he is honestly a great friend! We can just skip this whole country. Is there any spot you would like to go? Anything you want to see? Like a mountain? Or a beach? I know lots of places and we can visit all of them.” he smiles at him “I will be with you the whole time.”

Ccino wants to say yes but he knows he can’t. And he feels actually close to crying when he has to admit it “I can’t…”

Killer speaks so gentle “It is okay. We will figure out how to sneak you out. I will make sure you are safe. We will be a team and both Ink and I will teach you everything about being out on the road.” And he grins charming.

Ccino actually feels some tears escape as he laughs and shakes his skull “I can’t… It would kill me…”

Killer looks confused and Ccino admits the one thing he didn’t want to admit. He taps his own sternum “Slave contract… Had it since I was seven. If I leave Nim’s side for too long it will start to burn my soul until there is nothing left.” The horrified look that covers Killer’s face does not make Ccino feel better as he continues to talk “It was a reassurance… Just making people do your tasks and orders wasn’t enough for them. They changed the contract to include consequences for running away. Or for lying.”

Killer’s arms are around him against as Ccino leans against his shoulder. Soaking up the comfort of his friend as Killer mutters that they will figure something out.

Ccino doubts it. But it is a nice thought.

At least he still has Killer, at least a little.

Nim finally finishes and the flood of magic pressing against his makes him ill but at least it is finally over. She moves around and Ccino zones out again as he just lets her do whatever.

In the end Ccino ended up regretting admitting to the slave contract. Mostly because after he thought about it he realised he was willing to do it. To run away with Killer. Would it be a painful death, yes. But, in trade for that, he would get at least two months or being happy with Killer. They could visit Killer’s favourite places. Killer could show him so many things about this world. They could truly just be a couple, at least for a little while.

Ccino ended up trying to accept the deal still. Telling Killer he wanted to run away with him. Killer had looks so excited and asked him if he figured out how to stop the contract. Ccino had smiled and explained that he hadn’t, but that it would be fine. Killer had not agreed and cancelled the whole running away thing. Ccino knows that Killer said that he didn’t want to risk Ccino and end up killing him. But Ccino can’t help but think that this isn’t living either. At least those two months he would have been truly free and happy with Killer. That was what made it worth it… but Ccino ended up not telling Killer this. Killer seemed very distressed about the whole him dying thing and accepting that, best not explain how good the deal sounded to him after some thinking.

Nim has fallen asleep. Ccino is still stuck in her too warm embrace. Guess it is another night of just him suffering the heat as he can’t sleep. He glances around and sees the curtains near the balcony being still. Seems like Killer managed to get outside and close those doors.

Ccino is sad to see him go, to have their night be cut short. Killer can’t visit that often and now Ccino can’t even ride the euphory that being with Killer brought him as Nim had ruined and dirtied those lingering feelings and touches.

He hopes he can see Killer soon again.

--

Ccino isn’t paying much attention to the healers giving him, and the harem members, their check up. it is a weekly thing, everyone who the king found worthy to have sex with is to be checked in case they managed to carry twins. Any non-twin soullings get removed in these appointments as well.

They are just part of his routine at this point.

He sits on one of the beds as he waits to hear the verdict. He has already seen two of the eight here be given the drink to terminate non-twin soullings. Ccino never had to drink one of those before but from what he heard from others it tastes rather bland. But the aftereffect leaves you feeling cold for almost a full week and some have gotten sick after consuming it.

The healers are by his side still and Ccino is slightly annoyed. They are usually faster. Though he doubts they will try anything again. Even Nigel is that bold after Nim already warned him once. Even Mar didn’t risk it after that even as they stared wishfully at Nim.

Nigel frowns slightly as he mutters some words to Mar and Mar leaves to grab something from a shelf.

Ccino doesn’t care as his mind is still filled with a light bliss. Killer had managed to come by the day before yesterday. Nim had been busy the whole day with work and her council and Killer had been ballsy enough to sneak in in bright daylight and they spend the whole day together. It was truly amazing and he has been riding that high for the last two days now.

Mar suddenly rushes over to Nim, who is standing nearby looking disappointed at the two of her harem who had to drink the soulling termination drink. Mar bows deeply to Nim and Nim focusses on them. They speak about something but they are far enough that Ccino can’t really hear it.

Nim’s flames suddenly grow brighter and higher as she rushes over towards Nigel and leans closer to the healer and Nigel shows some results and shows an orb which-

Is a mixed colour. Purple and yellow.

Ccino is shocked. One of those here is carrying twins…

The orbs will change colour to fit the energy of a soulling.

This obviously only works if the monster or human is pregnant. From what Ccino understands is that a skilled healer can feel if a soul is carrying a soulling. Than they use the orb to sense the fragile soullings soulenergy while filtering out the most available soultrait. Though the soultrait test is a lot less reliable as soullings often shift soultraits as they grow and grow most stable. Not to forget that normal monsters don’t really have an obvious soultrait marker in their souls, it often represents in their magic or small details.

This Ccino only knows as he heard the healers tell this story many times to different harem members.

The things that matters is, the fact that the orb is showing two colours. It means it is sensing two different fragile soultraits. Meaning, twins.

Nim absolutely lights up and her flames are near white with her excitement. Ccino just knows her face has the same gleefulness to it, if it hadn’t been hidden by her veil.

Everyone is watching closely.

Nim speaks full of excitement “Who is carrying my twins?”

Nigel looks almost… amused? Is that the right word? Nigel bows deeply “Well my king, It is none other than your consort of course.”

Ccino feels something in his mind break. No. No… No no no no no!

Nim turns and her veil covered face stares into his direction. Moments later she is by his side and rubs his cheek and kisses his skull “Oh my dear Lyra, you are truly perfect.”

Ccino’s mind can’t even focus on the fact she is using that name again. No. What do you mean he is carrying twins?! He never! It never happened before! He had too little energy and no magic! How could he be carrying twins?!

Ccino watches silently as the others are quickly removed from the medical room. All rushed out after their check ups finish. Nim keeps looking so fucking content as she strokes his face and arms and hands. Leaving behind tender and slightly painful marks.

Ccino isn’t even paying attention as Nigel and Mar talk to him about what he will need to do to keep the health of the new twins up. To make sure both are healthy enough to be born and how to ensure this. Something about magic transfers and confinement and rest. Ccino doesn’t like the idea of magic transfers. He always feels sick after a small magical donation and the idea of getting those almost daily doesn’t sit well with him. But he has to as apparently his body just doesn’t make enough magic to support the twins.

Ccino doesn’t understand why he can’t just eat more. Food should give energy for magic right? why can’t he just eat and get magic that way? Then again… he would grow fat and Nim doesn’t want that…

The conversation continues on for a while longer before he follows Nim out quietly.

Nim hums happily as she walks, expecting him to keep up, “Oh what a wonderous day. I just knew you would be perfect, and now you prove it even more! So perfect and just like Lyra. We will obviously need to make sure you remain nearby. But just leaving you in a room to rest? No. That is such a waste! I want everyone to see the joy, the perfection. New twins. Just in time as well.”

Ccino just nods along. Still feeling numb as he follows her footsteps. Trying not to… not to what? What does he do?

They get back to Ccino’s own room as Nim looks around it with distaste “Oh this will not work. I can not have the one carrying my twins remain here. I will have to speak with people to get your new room ready.” She nods to herself as she starts to leave.

Ccino doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get it. How did this happen?

Nim stops and turns “What do you mean? Of course I move you to a better location. You are carrying my heirs now. That means people will try to be foolish and harm you as they know they can’t harm me.”

Ccino feels even more anxiety fill him. He hadn’t even thought about that. But the matter remains. He finds his voice and mutters the next question on purpose instead of accident “How… How am I pregnant? I don’t have enough magic for that.” It is a statement. Everyone knew this was the case. No one made it a secret. The council had been displeased with him about his position of consort because he didn’t have the ability to get pregnant. They all agreed Nim was wasting precious time by having him as someone to have sex with.

Nim chuckles as she walks over “Oh that is easy.” She pulls him back and it is scorching hot as one of her hands lays over the front of him. Right where his sternum and soul are hidden behind his thin shirt. “Because I wanted you to carry them.” she leans close and whispers “don’t you feel it? It is still rather new. I did reabsorb their souls after all. It would be a waste to let all of that time and effort go to waste. Instead of wasting time with creating completely new souls for my heirs I just cleansed them.”

Ccino stands frozen as it sinks in “It… it… it are…” he stammers.

Nim hums “Dream and Nightmare. And who else by the one who already took care of them before? I knew your soul would accept the soullings transfer. You were the only choice.” A kiss to his cheek before steps leaving towards the door.

A pause.

“The perfect choice.”

The door closes.

And Ccino falls to his knees. Tears streaming down his face.

--

He feels sick. He can’t really move. The new magic injected into his system still feels wrong. It messes with his senses and his soul hurts so badly.

A wet cloth is placed on his skull and Ccino glances to the side. Robin looks at him so very worried.

Ccino frowns slightly before giving her a pointed look “You… can’t be… here… If she… if Nim finds out…” Nim had been… weirder than usual. He had been moved to this new room… two weeks? Maybe? Ago. It seems that ever since she successfully moved his soullings to his soul she has been… slipping is the best way to describe it.

She has also been calling him by the wrong name many more times. She seems to crackle brighter than ever before and mutter about taking over other lands, which is unheard of for her. Nim never cared about taking over more land or anything. To her it didn’t matter as it was just a waste of time. Why bother with countries that didn’t accept her as leader? Why bother with people who didn’t come to serve her? That is what she had always said.

Robin frowns at him as she cleans helps cool his bones “Yeah she is screaming up a storm against the guards. Something about suspicious footsteps in the garden.” She pauses and mutters “Ccino… I don’t think it is wise for… your friend to visit you…”

Ccino frowns as he shifts his skull into the pillow more “Not like… he can get in here…” it is like a locked box. There isn’t even a window. He feels locked up and uneasy. Trapped. It is too warm and he feels like he is melting from the inside out.

He knows it is impossible for Killer to find out where he is now. Ccino had to explain where his own room was to Killer before he figured out how to get there. Killer doesn’t know where he is now. and that is good. Because it means Killer can’t get into trouble for trying to get to the one carrying the heirs.

Robin mutters softly “I can… try to get a message across? Rogers will help too. Try and explain he needs to escape now…” and she waits.

And that is the problem… because Ccino doesn’t want that. Ccino truly is a terrible person, as all he wants and wishes for is Killer to be here. For even just a moment. Even when knowing how dangerous it is.

Ccino rolls up more as he can’t look at Robin “I… I don’t… I don’t know…”

Robin frowns before the door opens just an edge. Rogers is outside and whispers “The shift in the guard will be here soon. You need to go now before the next group Robin.” Rogers shoots him a smile before glancing around.

Robin nods as she gives him a gentle hug “It is okay. We will figure something out.” and she leaves the room.

He truly feels terrible as he just lays there. Prisoner of this room with only his own selfish thoughts to keep him company.

Is this… is this a punishment? From… It?

Ccino doesn’t understand. He thought… He thought he already got punished for him asking for help. For accepting help form It. That that was why It killed his twins…

But now he… he is carrying them? Little Dream and Nightmare? Both of them? It will kill him… is that punishment for no longer giving It attention? Or is this truly just Nim?

Why does he think of It as a god yet doesn’t see Nim as one?

He doesn’t know anymore…

He doesn’t… he doesn’t know what he can even do anymore.

He closes his eyes as he just wills himself to sleep. He keeps hoping he will wake up in his normal room. Hell he would even accept it being Nim’s at this point. Just not this jail anymore. Not this prison.

He thinks he falls asleep… Maybe… He isn’t fully sure. He feels sick. So very sick. He just wants to sleep and not feel anything for a while.

A soft voice gently speaking “Ccino? Ccino please… what is wrong? Are you sick? What is happening?”

Ccino frowns slightly as he opens his sockets. He glances to the side and… Killer? How… when? Is… is he asleep? This has to be a dream right?

Ccino tries to push himself up but his arms shake violently and he falls almost immediately. Killer is by him and helps him up a little “Ccino?! What is going on? Please tell me.”

Ccino sobs as he looks with a teary smile at Killer. The pain at least proves this is real. Killer found him… Killer managed to find him! He doesn’t answer right away as he just hugs Killer. Sobbing softly. He finally feels safe. The arms hold him and he wants it to never end. But… No… this is too dangerous…

He sobs as he mutters through his sniffs “You… you need… need to go… if she… if she finds you… if she figures out… you need to go…” it hurts so much. He doesn’t want him to go.

Killer shakes his skull “No. please. What is wrong? What did she do? What is this stuff?” he glances to the side where Ccino knows the magic injector lays. Killer looks so panicked.

Ccino smiles sadly and laughed “What… you haven’t heard the great news?” He keeps his smile up even if he feels it shake as his sight grows hazy with his tears “The next heirs are on their way. The next set of twins are planned to be born…” He sobs as he just leans against Killer “I don’t… I don’t want to die… I don’t… I really don’t Killer… What… what do I do?”

Killer holds him close and seems to remain quiet. Ccino just leans into the hug. He sobs as he shakes in his arms.

Killer finally finds his voice “What… what is… the injector for?”

Ccino shakes as he remembers the terrible feeling of the magic being injected. It never feels the same as his own body notices the invasive magic but can’t do anything to stop it. He shakes as he just pushes closer. Killer is familiar, Killer is safe. He can tell Killer. It is okay. He mutters “I… I don’t… have enough magic… never did… This… this is to make sure… I can carry… to term…” he shakes.

Killer pulls him closer “Why not just give you more food?! You eat like what… once a week? Why not just give you normal fucking meals?”

Ccino just lays in those arms. Leaning close as he relaxes “Can’t risk not being pretty for Nim…” he turns his face to hide it in his shoulder. The scent of the other is familiar and calms him down.

It is okay… Killer is here…

Killer holds him close against him “I… I don’t… I don’t know what to do…”

Ccino can’t help but laugh as he agrees. He doesn’t know what to do either.

They sit like that for a while. Ccino feels himself start to fall asleep again as he enjoys this moment. He isn’t sure if it will have to last him until the end and savours it. The warmth, the secure feeling, the way the other just supports his weight. It all feels so good. It feels real.

Ccino finds himself smiling a little. For a short little moment he is happy.

Killer nuzzles his skull “Is there anything I can do to help you? I can sneak in more food. I can get you more things. Anything you want.”

Cino frowns as he thinks. What is there they could do? Escape isn’t possible as Ccino can’t even walk himself anymore. Much less escape with Killer. And risking Killer to keep sneaking in isn’t fair and honestly? All he wants is just this. Killer with him and holding him.

As soon as he gets the idea he tries to ban it from his mind as he answers the other “Nothing that is… nothing that matters.”

The arms hold him tighter “Please tell me?”

Ccino feels unsure and insecure. But… but Killer wants to know right? Maybe it is okay to ask him this? “I… I wish… I wish you could stay…” he laughs softly as he pushes close “I… I am so scared. It is terrifying but… with you nearby I feel less scared…” the idea takes more of a shape in his mind. Killer could fake join the guard. Rogers could sneak him to be higher level. And then when Rogers keeps watch Killer can sneak in. Or when it is Killer’s turn he can sneak in…

Killer is very quiet and Ccino looks at him with a small smile. Only for it to fall. Because… Killer doesn’t… he doesn’t look happy… He looks unhappy and troubled as he looks to the side. Not at him.

He… doesn’t want to…

Killer speaks softly “Ccino… Ccino I am so sorry but… I can’t… I can’t stay here… I… it isn’t me… I am supposed to be out there you know.” he smiles at him but his smile falls “Ccino I…”

Ccino realises he is crying again. Shit no… He didn’t. It doesn’t matter that his soul hurts… It is fine! He is used to this. Why didn’t he expect this? He knew this… this was just… something fun for the other… It wasn’t deep like…

Ccino somehow manages to get the words out even as his voice shakes “Right… I am sorry. I know… I shouldn’t have… It isn’t fair to ask you to… give up your freedom…”

Killer looks so unsure and Ccino manages to pull away from him. He reaches a hand out but Ccino goes back to where his blanket lays. It is so cold “It is fine… I know… I know it isn’t you. I didn’t mean to imply for you to change… it was stupid to ask…”

Killer shakes his skull “It wasn’t stupid…”

Ccino refuses to look at him “It was…” and now… well “It is actually better… This… this place isn’t safe… There are too many guards and if any of them see you you could be hurt… Killer… I… I think it is best if you don’t return…”

Killer is completely quiet “But… I thought… I thought you wanted…”

Ccino feels his soul break even more “Well clearly it doesn’t matter what I want does it?! It never did!”

Silence.

“Just… Killer just leave… I can’t… I can’t deal with you being here anymore. You being here. It means you could get hurt… I can’t… I can’t keep being afraid you will get hurt being here.” Ccino holds himself “Just leave.” Softer to himself “You are good at that.”

There is a silence and Ccino isn’t even sure what he wants. Part of him never wants to see Killer again. He always knew it was just a fun thing for Killer and Ccino was the idiot for falling in love and trying to make believe this into something that mattered and wasn’t just a game to the other. Another, smaller, part of him wants Killer to hug him. To say they can keep doing what has been going on until now. That Killer doesn’t want to say goodbye.

There is a silence and then the door opens a tiny bit… and Killer is gone.

Ccino sobs as he falls over. Crying into the pillow.

He deserves this… clearly he did something to deserve this.

He isn’t sure how long he cries. How long he sobs his stupid soul out. By the time the door opens again he is just staring at the far wall. His sockets hurting and so very exhausted.

Robin joins his side. Looking worried. She speaks but her voice sounds far away. She has to ask the question a few times before it finally makes sense to Ccino.

And he tells her. He tells her what happened. Softly between shakes as his body sobs without tears and sound. That he is an idiot. That he is too blame for this. He should have known better. He should have known this could never be. Now Killer is officially gone and he is never going to get to see him again. His one escape from this everything. Gone.

Robin holds him through his sobs. Gentle in her hold and voice as she tells him it isn’t his fault. That he deserved better.

Ccino can’t find it in himself to believe her.

--

Things have been better and worse.

Better in the way that Ccino has been getting used to things. He has been getting used to the pull on his soul and energy and feeling something try to pull on the magic he doesn’t have, making him unbalanced.

Worse because… well… Everything honestly. He hates having to deal with Nim’s council. He hates having Nim be so delighted and around him the whole time. He hates himself for waiting each night only to cry when no one comes to visit him.

He wishes he could have been brave enough to just run. To just run and die far away from this place.

Nim is looking at reports as Ccino walks by her side. His heart hurting with a starting migraine from all the light and conversations. Nim just speaks about what will come next and what to expect. What will change and how things need to be perfect.

Ccino doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to hear. He doesn’t care about this stupid country. He doesn’t care about her. He. Just. Doesn’t. Care!

He just wants to sleep. Sleep and cry more. But even the little privacy he had for that has gone as Nim hovers. Hands always touching somewhere and making him feel sick.

Nim hums as she trails her hand “But that is for later. I believe I have some time and I wish to spend it enjoying you. It has been much too long since I had that chance.”

Yesterday morning to be exact. Ccino still feels sore and pain from it which the transfer magic just makes worse.

He doesn’t want to talk about this. He doesn’t want to even think about it. He wants to hear anything else. Anything!

He speaks without thinking. “Who is Lyra?”

A moment of silence and Ccino feels like he overstepped as he mutters much softer “It is… You have spoken about this person with fondness before my king. I was curious who could receive such an honour.” And he waits nervously.

Nim stares ahead of her, the way she holds herself is different. She seems… distracted? She speaks softly “Lyra was… Come. I will show you.” and she walks. Ccino blinks and rushes after her even as his body protests.

They go towards Nim’s private wing and follow along some halls until they reach a door but there is no handle or even lock. Nim holds her hand against it and it seemingly melts away. A door only Nim herself can open it seems.

Nim walks inside and motions for him to follow. Ccino follows her in and glances around the small extra room. It is a small bedroom, much like his own private room used to be. But this one is themed with yellows, oranges and reds. Bright and everywhere. The bed is just a frame and the bookcase is empty. There is a large hanger with many dresses and Ccino thinks they look a lot like the ones Nim usually gives him to wear.

Then he glances at where Nim is standing. Her frames illuminating a large painting. It is made with oil paints and the frame is a golden and copper colour. The picture itself is one of Nim sitting on her throne but by her side stands a skeleton. They are wearing a bright orange dress and have a bright smile on their face. Their face is still young, maybe twenty-ish? They have bright orange eye lights and small orange freckles all over their face. They are really pretty.

Nim stares at the painting and hovers her hand near “Lyra.”

Ccino frowns at Nim and waits.

Nim stares at the painting fondly “She was there since the start. For as long as I remembered. My father made sure I had the best as was my right. I had people waiting my every comment and need. Lyra was always there first. She was perfect. She knew what I wanted, when I needed. Would sing and dance and paly music.” The almost tender look breaks away from her face as possessiveness takes over “When I ascended. When I took my birthright. I sought her out. It was only fitting that my first night was with someone perfect just like me.”

Ccino feels uneasy. It is not a good thing she sees her lost… love?  Affection? In him. He glances at the painting “What… happened?” old age? An accident? Assassination?

Nim sighs sadly “Oh she was perfect in every way. It was to be expected she carried my twins for me. That she carried them to completion and to birth.”

Ccino frowns, that can’t be right… “I thought… Dream’s and Nightmare’s mother had been Setta?” Ccino met that woman! And she hadn’t looked like the skeleton in the painting.

Nim frowns at him for a moment before laughing “Oh I am not talking about her. The only thing good about her is that she managed to give me twins. But well, that wasn’t that amazing after all of both of them had been weak.” Ccino feels a rage but keeps it contained. Them getting sick hadn’t been their fault! That isn’t how sickness works!

Nim stares back at the painting “Lyra gave me my first twins. Twin girls. Both looking just like her. Of course, after Lyra’s soul burst with the twin’s birth I killed the twins.”

Ccino stares. In disbelieve with how casually she mentions it. As if it is just remembering what her dinner had been. Not that she killed two babies. Nim continues on as if she doesn’t notice his horror “I realised that it was much too soon to pass the torch of godhood. I had only been a god for five years at that point and I hadn’t even been trying to make twins. I killed them to ensure my rule.” She stares at the paining and her hand strokes the cheek of the skeleton in it “They looked too much like her… They were unworthy of being like her. Or daring to remind me of her.”

Ccino stares at Nim. Fear for his twins filling him “What… what about… my twins?”

Nim blinks and looks long at him “It is time I pass on the torch. You have perfect timing for my new heir.” She smiles as she glances back at the painting “I like it when things are perfect.”

Ccino nods as he is quick to agree “You do deserve perfection.”

Nim looks pleased as she motions towards the exit. Ccino leaves quickly and walks with her. Very little of the day getting through to him as Nim goes about her day criticizing people. His mind keeps turning back to the fact that she… she killed… he is scared for his twins…

Eventually he is left in his prison again. He sits on the soft bed and just stares at the mostly empty room. It truly is just a room for him to rest and that is it. Just a soft bed with soft pillows and warm blankets. Just a shame that it is always too warm and hot in here.

He just sits on the bed and pulls his knees close to hug. He had been so worried about dying that he hadn’t even worried if his twins would be left in an okay place. He knows this place is terrible. He had seen how unfairly Dream and Nightmare had been treated!

The same will happen to them again, if Nim didn’t lie of course. There is a very high chance she lied and the soullings in his soul aren’t Dream and Nightmare. Even if they are still his twins now…

He is confused… He expected himself to hate them… he hates this pregnancy, he hates his situation, he hates this place… but he doesn’t hate the small soullings he has. He finds himself loving them.

Something is seriously wrong with him.

Soft knocks and the door opens just a bit. Rogers glances in and frowns “Ccino sir?”

Ccino just rolls up more.

A moment of silence before the door closes and footsteps come near him. The bed dips in a bit and Rogers speaks softly “Hey… what is wrong?”

Ccino shakes “She killed them.”

Rogers frowns as he holds his hand “You mean… Nim killed Dream and Nightmare?”

Ccino shakes and shakes his skull “No… well she did that too… but before that… she had other children. Another set of twins… she killed them…” he hugs his knees closer causing them to dig into his own chest “How… how can I be sure she won’t just… kill mine? When I am gone? I couldn’t even protect Dream and Nighty… How will I protect these.” He sobs as he glances at Rogers.

Rogers holds him as he shakes “I am not going to be able to protect them. They are going to take them and force them into those horrible roles of before.” And Ccino won’t even be able to protect them this time. Not like he did a good job before obviously but he now can’t even try. He is too weak.

Rogers keeps holding him “We will still be here Ccino. Please don’t think we would just abandon them.”

Ccino stares at Rogers “huh?”

Rogers gives a small smile as he puts an arm around him to keep him stable “It is all we can do… Sorry we can’t do more…”

Ccino frowns “What do you mean? Do more?”

Rogers frowns as he looks at the door “I am not sure… I… I am sorry… Robin and I tried to… search for a way to help you… We spoke with healers and realised there were two options really but…” he looks at him “We didn’t think you would be okay with someone removing the soullings.”

Ccino looks up shocked and stares “What…?”

Rogers sighs and looks at him. He looks tired. “Ccino… We see this destroying you. You are dying… We… we just want to help. And one of the options was well… removing what was killing you.” and he looks at him.

Ccino slowly shakes his skull as he tries to cover the spot where his soul hides with his twins. Rogers grins and waves at him “Yeah. That is what we figured. We had another option… On some of my missions and heard about a soulling transfer. Usually when the one originally carrying isn’t strong or healthy enough to carry the soulling a transfer is done as a last resort. We searched for people who could do this procedure for you but… It is only an option in Sanctuary.” And he looks so disappointed “I am sorry… I swear we tried to find solutions… to save you and both your twins… We are sorry.”

Ccino stares in shock… He had thought… He hadn’t thought they would… “Nim would have never allowed it…”

Rogers shrugs “Robin had been okay with carrying one of the twins for you. We would have lied and just said the child was Robin’s and mine’s. You would still show all the signs. Than when it was ready for the twins to be born Robin would sneak the child back to you…” Rogers laughs and shakes his head “But there is no way to have gotten you there for the treatment needed. And there is no way such a specialist healer would be willing to come here.” He smiles.

Ccino feels a shock but a small warmth starts to spread in his soul. His friends truly… truly care for him? He can’t help but smile as he leans against one of his only two true friends “Thank you.”

Rogers snorts “We did nothing… It ended up a disappointment.”

Ccino shakes his skull as he leans against the other “You two tried to help. You two worked hard to find solutions and ways to help me… I appreciate it more than anything. Thank you.”

Rogers keeps holding him “You did so much for Robin and me both Ccino… Of course we try to help you as well.”

Ccino snorts “Seriously? Robin was always helping me. Not the other way around. And all I ever did for you was just… normal stuff? Be nice?” he smiles at the other.

Rogers grins “It would surprise you how much that matters Ccino. To have someone just be friendly and not tell you your every action is wrong and that you ruin everything by just trying.” He sighs “I always believed that serving god-king Nim would be the greatest honour. That it would be the way to a bright future and work towards that… Everything I have seen here. Heard here? Everything was fake. You helped me see through that façade Ccino.” He nudges their shoulders together “And in the end I gained two friends…”

Ccino smiles as he leans against his friend. Letting himself relax just a little. Knowing that his two friends will be there for his twins after he is gone. That everything won’t just be in vain.

--

Ccino is just listening as the council and Nim talk about future plans and ideas for how to proceed. They are asking her how she plans to finish a war before the birth of the new twins and Nim seems to consider this as she looks at the timeline. Seems like she had been serious about wanting more land. The council however are unsure. Mentioning how they will need to spend time and resources on the twins over a war.

Honestly with how they talk about these factors they imply that raising two children is as difficult as winning a war. Then again they plan to poison his twins’s minds and opinions so maybe it does take some time and resources.

The people on the council had shot him looks when Nim walked in with him by her side but no one dared to go against their god and king. Ccino had sat down and acted as if he wasn’t there. Still listening of course but acting as if he didn’t pay attention.

Nim feels unimpressed “I want Ironfields to be added to my territory. And as it is my wish, it is my right as god living among the mortals.”

Aurora, a deer monster, glances at the reports “And we agree our king. But with the twins on their way isn’t it best to postpone your planned victory until after they are born and situated?”

Nim sighs as she waves a hand “By then I will be gone and Dream will have taken over my godhood.”

Ccino blinks and looks over “What?”

Someone in the council glares at him but Ccino doesn’t care as he focusses on Nim “What… what do you mean? Isn’t that… how could they be crowned when they are just born?” that makes no sense?!

Nim looks at him and the veil doesn’t show any of her emotions but the glee is clear in the room as she sends those out. “It is about time I pass my godhood. It is best to pass it early to ensure it remains at strength. As soon as our twins are born. I will give my powers over to Dream. Trusting my magic to guide him to do his next step.”

Ccino stares as his mind spins. Does… does she mean that… when Ccino’s… when his babies are finally back. After all this time… They will just be… alone again? Nim isn’t a good mother or parent but she is still their parent! He had… why had he thought that she would help them? He had hoped that someone would look after them like he had before.

But… but if they expect them… if they immediately expect Dream to take over… to ascend. He won’t even get the most basic of childhoods. He won’t even get the chance to be before he is trust into the role of god king…

Dream and Nightmare won’t even get the chance to be twins or brothers or friends. Not at all.

“No.”

A silence follows that single word.

Nim slowly turns back to him “Excuse you.”

Ccino stares ahead of him before staring right at Nim. A rage unlike anything before enters his whole being as he glares “I. Said. No.” He knows his face hardens as he stands there. In front of their god king. In front of the whole council which he means nothing to.

Nim stares at him through her veil. He can feel the weight of the gaze. The air mirrors her emotions as they turn bemused “Oh really. No?”

Ccino nods “No. Dream will not immediately ascend. Neither of them will. They are babies!” He stressed the word. He can’t believe she would… That any of them would!

Someone snorts and Ccino thinks he hears something about him being overemotional but Ccino easily ignores them. He focusses on Nim.

The bemusement turns amused as she walks over to him “I will ignore that you spoke against me. You care too much about things that do not matter dear.” A hand strokes his cheek “All that matters… Is me. And what I wish.”

He feels the magic in the very old contract tighten around his soul. It hadn’t felt and hurt like this in ages. Not since the start. Not since he learned to follow the silent orders and requests. Until it became second nature.

No. No.

He takes a few steps back, ripping himself away from her touch “Don’t touch me! You do not get to hurt my twins!” He raises both his hands over his sternum as he glares “I don’t care what you want them to be! They are mine now too, just as much mine as they are yours and I say no!” He glares. His gaze is growing hazy as the pressure around his mind and soul increase. “And I say that they get to be children! They get to grow up! Just like they did before! They deserve a chance to be happy after you murdered them for no reason!”

Silence around them, or maybe they are screaming. Ccino doubts he could have heard them over the ringing in his skull. His body is starting to shake to keep standing. To keep speaking against what is expected of him.

The amusement turns to rage and pushes down on him. It is hard to keep upright.

“How dare you speak out against your king!” She is enraged. Furious.

There should be fear. But the thought of his twins. Finally returned and him gone as he dies. Left with nothing. Left with no one. No one to hold them. No one to love them. No one to tell them it will be okay. That they are so good, and smart, and amazing. That they are perfect just the way they are. All because she wants them to be what she wants?! After she betrayed them!

Ccino forces his sockets back open and his eye lights to focus on the burning flame in front of him. It is warm. It is burning hot in matter of fact. Her rage burns around them. It is scorching. But Ccino focusses as he stares at her.

“You are not my king.” With each word he speaks he finds himself standing taller “My order was to serve the future king. Nd the future king is a soulling in my own soul at this very moment. I served you, did what you wanted, all of it. Because you were supposed to have the wellbeing of the next king in mind. But you are no longer acting in his best interest, maybe you never were.” The pressure is gone. He stands upright as he stares at her It is hard to see her, it is hard to feel his mouth and body “You are not my king. You are not my god. You are a brat throwing a tantrum each time you do not get what you want. And I can know as I raised your children for you once before. And I will not let you hurt them.”

The room showcases how furious she is. But Ccino can’t see her anymore. It is all hazy and clouded. He can’t quite focus. What… what is he doing again? Why is he here?

Nim’s voice sounds far away “You will be punished for this-”

“I am not done speaking.”

Wait… did he say something? He thought his mouth moved… but everything is hazy… He can’t think… He is so tired.

“You are no king, and surely no god. You took powers that were never yours to take.” He is saying… something? Maybe? Ccino isn’t sure… He thinks he is speaking but he can’t hear it…

“You are a disgrace. Your whole family line before you is. You were never allowed to take this magic. To use and abuse it. It was not yours to take. He was not yours to take.”

There is… rage? But it feels different. Not like Nim’s… But different… It reminds him of when Ccino got angry on behave of his twins. When he caught sight of Nightmare cutting his hand to practise for rituals. Of when Dream was sobbing because people told him he wasn’t working hard enough and the stress got to him…

“But I am here once again. I am here to reclaim what is rightfully mine. You will be forgotten. You will no longer poison this land. Your touch will no longer hurt him. Ans his twins will no longer have to fear for your disapproval. You will just be a bad memory, but one that will face with time. And you will be forgotten as the land heals from you and your ancestors abuse.”

A loud crack of something. Like wood splintering. Like earth moving as a landslide. It is loud and harsh. The ground shakes under him but Ccino doesn’t feel himself fall. He is… still standing? How is he standing? He should have collapsed right?

He is so tired…

The pain around his soul and mind finally fully disappear. The harsh light and heat around him is gone. And his mind finally goes blissfully silent as he feels himself slip away.

----

His body feels sore… Not like when Nim touched him… but like when he used to run around the castle for a long day. After a long day of working. As if he exercised too much.

It is strange.

Ccino groans as he pushes his skull into the soft pillow under him before he frowns. It feels… like cotton? Not like the silk that is in Nim’s room or his prison room? But he has had to sleep there for ages now. Why would he be in his own room?

He forces his eyes open and looks around confused. The first thing he sees is the crystal glass rose that Killer gave him a long time ago. Still safely on his nightstand. It truly is his room. He glances to the side and sees his own window, cracked open with a few flower pots with different plants in them. All were gifts from when Killer still entertained Ccino’s delusional ideas. That Killer had truly loved him. Ccino would be given plants from every place Killer visited. All the native plants. Killer ahd told him that it was the least he could do, with Ccino being unable to visit those places he could take a little of them back to Ccino.

His room? But…

“Ccino!! You are alive!” Two arms lock around him and Ccino is shocked.

Mostly because it is very out of character for Rogers to do that?

Ccino stares at his friend “Rogers? What… What is going on? Why wouldn’t I be alive?” He isn’t near his due-date yet. Sure he isn’t the healthiest but there is no reason why he would die quickly.

Rogers pulls back a little and seems to look him over. Ccino can’t help but notice the dark marks under his eyes. Rogers looks thinner and paler than usual. He is exhausted. Ccino frowns at him “Have you been resting? Eating okay? You look…”

Rogers laughs “Like shit? You can say it. Robin says it all the time.” As soon as he says that he walks towards the side of the door and rings a string there-

Wait… since when does his room have a system to call for a servant? Ccino doesn’t have that… He glances around the room again and frowns. He… thinks this is his room but it feels… different… Was his room always this large? That can’t be right.

Rogers returns to his side “Robin will be here soon. She was getting food for us and will now also get some for you.”

Ccino blinks and mutters, mostly out of habit “I don’t think it is my eat day.”

Rogers waves it off “Oh don’t worry. No one will try to tell you what to do at the moment.” He looks deeply amused by this.

Ccino stares at his friend “What… What do you mean?”

Rogers’s grin falls as he looks unsure “Wait… you don’t remember?”

Ccino feels himself frown as he thinks back. He was with Nim at the council… They… were planning things? For the future? Like always? Ccino keeps frowning as he stares down “I… I am not sure? I was at the council meeting right? With the king? I…” his mind remains blank. Nothing connects for a while. All he can hear is soft rustling of leaves and he glances upwards before staring “Why are there vines alone the ceiling with leaves?”

Rogers looks shocked but before he can say a word the door opens and Robin rushes inside. Ccino manages a glance and sees there are two guards outside but they are staying far away from the door.

Robin just stands there for a moment. By the door. She pushes the plates she is carrying on top of the dresser before rushing to his side and two arms lock around him again. Another familiar embrace and Ccino hugs his friend close and sighs. It is good to be with his friends. They rarely get the chance to spend time together with how much Nim had been-

Nim!!

Ccino glances around worried “Is this… Okay? What is Nim finds out?” He doesn’t want to get his friends hurt because he is weak and needs their support!

Robin frowns as she looks obviously confused “Ccino what do you mean?”

Ccino looks between his friends confused as he starts to feel like he missed something very important. Luckily Rogers shakes his head at Robin “Robin… It can honestly wait. He doesn’t remember. Lets first eat.”

Robin blinks before nodding “Yeah… Yeah honestly that is fine. I don’t think there really is a rush at this point?” she walks back to the plate and brings it over. Ccino glances at it and sees cut fruits and some bowls with yogurt. Robin grabs the smallest bowl and puts some banana and apples into it. She mixes it and even adds a little bit of honey. She hands it to him with a spoon “Eat.”

Ccino blinks “But it isn’t my-”

Robin glares at him and Ccino feels himself stop talking. Robin stares him down “You are going to eat that. Take as much time as you want. Eat it slowly. Savour every bite if you want. But eat.” She looks close to begging “Please. Just eat. Don’t worry about punishment okay? I swear it is safe. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

She really wouldn’t. Ccino takes a small bite as he watches Robin and Rogers getting their own bowl ready. It is nice. To just enjoy a moment together with his two friends. They eat their own food and they seem relaxed. And if they are relaxed it is really okay… right? Otherwise they wouldn’t be this calm.

Even with it being a small bowl Ccino can’t eat it all. He feels full and thinks he will start to feel sick or need to vomit if he eats anything else. Robin doesn’t mention it as she takes the bowl and puts it aside. Afterwards she sits by his side and checks him quickly. Check if he can stand, if his coordination is fine, check his relaxes.

Robin sighs in relieve as she sits back “Okay. You are actually okay…” she hugs him again.

Ccino nods “I feel fine…” Better than fine now he has some actual food. He feels less light headed already and less shaky. Even if he can handle both just fine at this point it is more comfortable even if he feels heavy and full and there is still the worry that he did something wrong by eating. “Will you two please tell me what is going on?”

Robin looks unsure as she glances at Rogers. Rogers leans closer “What do you remember. And take your time. Maybe something else came back?”

Ccino frowns as he concentrates “I was at the council meeting with god king Nim… They were discussing plans about how she wanted to take over Ironfields. Invade and concur. They spoke about how the timing was off for it as the twins are on their way and-” He freezes “She wanted… she wanted… To pass on her crown… as soon as they were born.” Both Robin and Rogers look up shocked. Ccino feels his breathing pick up a bit as memories flash through his mind “I… I panicked… I spoke out…” He can’t believe… How did he? How did he manage? “It…” he remembers how his mind and soul had felt on fire. To go against what he was ordered to do. To just support and serve. To stand against it. “It hurt but… She wanted to… take their lives away again. Before they even had a chance to be and… and…” he frowns “Then it went black…” He looks at his two friends “How am I still alive?” Or better why isn’t he locked up? Why does he still have his tongue or his ability to speak? Why is he still comfortable after that?

Robin presses a little bit “And that was all? Nothing after that?”

Ccino shakes his skull “I… I think more happened? But I wasn’t all there? I felt…” he frowns “There was this rage… but it wasn’t… her rage…” he knows what her emotions feel like. The way she forces them all to feel it. To know what she feels at all times and to take that into account. “It felt different… I am just sure it wasn’t hers…”

Robin nods and looks at Rogers “I wasn’t there myself but Rogers was.”

Rogers nods “I was guarding the door.” Ccino nods as he remembers him standing there when he followed their king inside “And I am not sure about the details. I just know we heard Nim yell and so we entered.��� Ccino frowns. Rogers, and Robin for that matter, never risked referring to Nim with just Nim.

“We ran in and let me tell you. It was insane. There was magic everywhere. Nim was burning brighter than the sun. But you just stood there. In the middle of the inferno but something was off. The way you were standing wasn’t like you. It was much more hostile. Your sockets were alit with magic. This yellowish green. Like newly grown leaves.” Ccino just stares in shock. Him… magic? Rogers continues “You were speaking but it wasn’t your voice. It was something else we think. It spoke about how Nim wasn’t worthy of the power she had abused. Of the title she had unrightfully gotten. It spoke about how she didn’t deserve you Ccino.”

Ccino blinks as he is starting to get a sinking feeling.

Rogers grins at him “How she is no longer allowed to be near either you or your twins. And it called them yours, not hers. And then…” Rogers seems to look for words as he glances at the walls “You know how we all talk about how the walls seem almost tree like in nature? How we always compare it to roots, or vines, or tree trunks or something like that?” He waits until they both nod and then he continues “The very floor shifted. It split apart and roots started to climb up Nim. Even as she tried to burn them nothing happened. She shot a fire ball at you Ccino but a vine was lightning fast as it intercepted it. Rendering it useless… The… the floor, the castle itself, swallowed Nim whole.”

Ccino stares at his hands. His mind spinning. It… It… Why did It… after Ccino… Why?

“Obviously. After that it was chaos. You stood frozen for a few more moments before you fell over unconscious. The very roots that had pulled Nim into the ground caught you instead and laid you down carefully on the ground. Someone in the guard walked closer with a raised weapon and a vine impaled him.” Rogers stresses the word “Again, chaos. Then… the priest spoke up. Said that it must have been the power. The very thing granting their kings the power to become god. And that by it rejecting Nim it showed that Nim had failed it but by granting you mercy it must still see a future in your twins… Or something like that, honestly at the time I was in shock.” Rogers shrugs a little “After that I offered to bring you to a room to rest. They had looked at me like I was insane but I figured if whatever this was wanted to protect either you or the twins it wouldn’t hurt me as I never wanted anything but you all to be okay and healthy.” He looks a little smug “And I was right, as I was allowed near without issue and was allowed to carry you out…”

Robin speaks up next “This is when I met up with you two. But the vines themselves locked away other rooms and entrances. It kept people away. We got lead to this room, your room. We have been taking turns to remain by your side as the other works and sees what is going on and happening.”

Ccino’s mind is spinning. What is he supposed to think? He thought that It. He isn’t even sure what he thought anymore or what he was supposed to think.

He is confused.

That is a good summary of how he feels. Confused.

Ccino stares down “It… doesn’t make sense…” None of this does.

Rogers and Robin share a look as Robin smiles “Maybe whatever the power is saw you are actually good? A good person? And decided to want to help you?”

Ccino shakes his skull as he glances to the side. He eyes the door but it is closed and he knows his room is secure, Killer and him were never caught after all and they used to hang out in his room before Ccino moved to Nim’s permanently…

And if… if It truly is helping him… then It won’t let anyone hear this conversation… right? They never heard him in the tunnels and that has to be It’s doing…

Ccino speaks softly “It… doesn’t make sense because… I was sure It was mad at me…” There.

Rogers and Robin both look confused before Robin’s eyes widen “You know what the power is?”

Ccino shakes his skull “No… I never knew what It was… I just knew It was there…” he rubs his arms “It used to… help… Remember how I… would show up in places? Very quickly? That sometimes I just seemed to disappear and reappear? Remember how ages ago I told you I used a tunnel that you knew didn’t exist?”

Robin gives a slow now. Her eyes wide in shock. Ccino nods “It… would make these tunnels. Or small staircases or areas I could climb up or down. Small pathways all around the castle. It was easy to get places as the tunnels were always only one path. No turns or twists. Just a straight path from A to B which was much quicker than should have been possible…”

Rogers frowns “If this being helped you… why did you think they were mad at you?”

Ccino looks down at his hands and mutters “It made them sick… It caused the sickness that fell over them…”

There is a silence as Ccino feels the grief as strongly as always. He misses his twins so much. He knows that Nim said their souls are within his now but Ccino doesn’t believe it, he can’t let himself start to hope to see them again only to not see them. He can’t do that to himself. He can also not do that to his babies. He will only get a short time to meet them, if he is lucky and his soul manages to hold on for a bit longer, he needs to shower them with love and affection when he can. Need to make sure those two new souls feel loved and cared for.

“What if it wasn’t against you?”

Ccino blinks and looks up at Rogers.

Rogers is still frowning as he speaks “Everyone knew that the twins died and that Nim let it happen. We all heard the statement she made that the twins had gotten weak and sick and unworthy of the title as her heir… but that was her choice…” Rogers gives him a sad smile “Am I right?”

Right… Ccino had been the only one of the three of them who had been close to the twins before. Robin worked with the other maids mainly and Rogers hadn’t even been working here at that point…

Ccino nods and quietly tells them about how Nim had the option to help them. To give them strength to recover but that she denied them that.

Rogers nods as he speaks “I think… Maybe it wasn’t something against you or your twins… But against Nim. A test maybe?” He looks sheepish “I won’t lie and say I know how gods or deities or spirits work. But… Maybe it wasn’t meant to hurt you or them… maybe it was just meant to be some sort of test for Nim? Which she failed horribly in a way that went much worse than it expected?”

Ccino frowns as he pulls on his own hands slightly. Making the joints between his fragile bones stretch “It… it doesn’t matter… what do I do now?” How is he supposed to deal with this? People will want answers and he doesn’t have them!

Robin shrugs “Just let the priest figure stuff out.”

Rogers looks disapproving at her “Robin.”

Robin glances back at him “What? I am serious. We don’t know the answers and no one is going to expect us to know. Ccino went unconscious which could mean many things. They are not going to risk his or the twins health. Especially not with the deity having made clear that it does not approve of anyone harming Ccino, or the twins.” She crosses her arms “I say. We focus on making sure you” she looks at Ccino “And your twins are healthy while we just pay attention. We stick nearby, act invisible as they all want. Let them forget we are nearby and than we just listen. We will pay attention to what they say.”

Ccino just feels more unsure “And what if they do demand me to do stuff? What if they see this as a sign that I… I… Like have those stupid powers?! I can’t do magic!” He stresses the words and feels his voice go higher with his panic.

Rogers taps his chin and shrug “Just say stuff? Say you haven’t heard a specific message yet. That for now it means that they want everyone to follow what they said before.”

Ccino turns slowly to Rogers “You want me to just… use the situation?!”

Rogers makes a so-so sign “Just a little. Just enough to make sure you are safe. Again, only if they start demanding you give them answers.”

Ccino covers his face “This is going to end horribly.”

Robin hums as she pushes him to lay down and tugs him in “Maybe. But you are alive. You are awake. Your twins are still with you, and Nim is gone. I think that means you can take a moment to just rest. Sleep peacefully knowing nobody will come and ruin it for you.” she smiles “We will just have to see what happens. But if we play our few cards right we can make this work in our adventage.”

Ccino looks unsure “But we don’t have any kind of power here… At all.” Just like always they are powerless.

Robin grins “Not exactly. We have one very powerful card at least. That is that we know you don’t have any true connection to it. I have heard them mutter about it picking you as vessel while it waits for the new god-king to be born. Others say that Nim was never the other parent but the power itself was.”

Ccino shoots her a look at that one as he knows that is not how soullings are made and everyone knows that. Robin grins “The point is. Everyone is confused. Everyone is looking for answers and any answer is possible. You didn’t just reshuffle the deck Ccino. You changed out the entire game… and everyone thinks you are the only one with the rulebook. Use that. Use them thinking you know even if you don’t.”

Ccino frowns as he considers it. He still isn’t a fan of lying. But if he words stuff right… if he is vague… maybe?

Rogers nods “But that is for later. I am going to stand guard for the next shift while Robin works. Do you need anything?”

Ccino shakes his head but even then Robin still promises to bring him something to drink that is nutritious. Ccino is noticing a very suspicious absent of the injector and magic vials and Ccino is pretty sure that either Robin or Rogers made it disappear. Maybe they loudly questioned if the power of the god-kings would approve or just any magic being injected into the one carrying the next generation…

Ccino snorts as he rolls up in his blanket. It is soft. It is familiar. The door closes as his two friends leave to work.

Ccino glances up at the ceiling before he mutters “I… I am sorry… I just… it hurt a lot to lose them… It was easier to blame you and ignore you… than to admit that only Nim was at fault and knowing I could do nothing to get rid of the anger and fear and… I am sorry… I know it is a bad excuse and…” rustling.

Ccino glances upwards and sees a lot of tiny flowers start to bloom. All along the ceiling and top of the bedposts. The flowers themselves are full and seem to have double blossoms. He can’t quite see in the low light but thinks they may be pink? Carnations? Maybe…?

Ccino yawns as he falls asleep. For the first time in a long time feeling a little bit safe. He is okay… It is okay...

--

He glances over the wall and quickly ducks down again. Shit more guards.

Seriously did that abusive asshole up the guards again?! Honestly you would think she is insecure with the amount of guards.

He huffs as he glances around. He could double back and go through the garden again. Use the bushes as cover as he makes his way to the castle…

He sighs as he rubs his cheek, flicking the tar like tears off of his hand. This is such a mess… It never was this hard to sneak in before. Killer can know as he used to do this monthly! And the only reason he didn’t do it more often was because he and Ink had work and missions to do!

Killer sees his chance and rushes behind some guards. He manages to get past the first open space and quickly dives into one of the servant tunnels to get into the cellar.

Killer is a fucking idiot.

He had been miserable for the last month. Just staring ahead and be distracted. It had come to an end because Ink, INK, had told him that if he wanted to see his boyfriend so badly he should just go to him.

So now Killer is here, right in the capital sneaking into the castle to see if he can beg and gravel enough to get Ccino to give him another chance.

Killer is still mentally working on his apology. He hasn’t come much further than admitting he is a coward and an idiot.

Ccino had asked him to stay, and Killer had said no. You know. Like an asshole.

But then Killer had the fucking nerve to feel hurt when Ccino asked him to not return. No Killer said no to giving Ccino even the tiniest bit of comfort and support while he was struggling but Killer got sad that Ccino didn’t want to also risk more trouble if Killer was discovered.

Killer pops his skull out of the panel and glances around. Wine barrels all around but no actual people. Killer climbs out of the tunnel and carefully and quietly closes the panel again. He inches towards the ladder and slowly climbs it.

Killer had left, as asked, and been sad and miserable. Worse that with time it became painfully obvious that Killer had truly valued his own freedom over the time he spend with Ccino, as if those can not go together.

How selfish is he? That Killer is unwilling to let Ccino choose his own freedom? But makes sure Killer keeps it himself?

Killer gets out of the cellar and glances around the hall. He goes from shadow to shadow as he tries to move quietly but remain on the move. It is important that he doesn’t stop. If he stops he can be spotted and discovered. Movement is your friend in this situation.

Killer truly can’t stand the idea of living in a world without Ccino. And because Killer is weak and a coward he denied Ccino his own freedom. He denied him the chance to live.

Killer had figured… That even if Ccino was stuck here that he could keep visiting him. Keep bringing him gifts and presents. Little pieces of the world that Killer himself was keeping him away from.

Killer groans as he puts his face into his hands “Focus focus. Just. Focus. Get to his room.” Prison “And just… Make it okay!” Well not okay… “Okay. Make it a bit better!” He just wants to see him so badly. He wants to hear him speak. Even if it is to shout at him!

Killer’s mind hisses at the very thought. Ccino would never. He is too kind and an actual good person. Even when Killer denied him everything he wanted each time over and over he was always nice. He is too nice.

This fucking world does not deserve him… Killer doesn’t deserve him.

Killer glances around the corner and rushes over towards the next hallway. This part sucks as he just needs to run to get there.

He still isn’t sure how to tell him he is sorry. That the truth was that he was terrified of losing the person he was. That he was afraid that staying in the castle would make him lose himself. That he is sorry that he wasn’t strong enough. It wouldn’t have even been forever! Ccino… had already been…

It had been a matter of time…

He could have handled it. He should have been able to handle it!

He finds the door and grins. Finally. It is tugged away deep in the castle. Only one door and no windows. The fact the door is only lockable form the outside still gives Killer the bad shivers. He kneels down and takes out his lock picks. A push here and-

The door opens immediately.

Killer sits frozen for a moment but no one walks out. He frowns and nudges the door open…

Only to find the room completely empty.

Killer stares.

No. No no no… There is no way. There is no way he is… gone… there is no way!

Maybe… Maybe Nim was being a freak again? An asshole and a rapist and abuser? Maybe Ccino was in Nim’s room? Because Nim was a piece of shit and wanted to hurt him?

Killer rushes down the halls again. New destination clear in mind.

It was a risk to go through the castle instead through the outside but he needs to see him. Please. Please still be okay. Don’t make him have lost him already. He thought… He had hoped he would have at least a little while. To hold him and actually be there for him for once. To feel that love a little bit longer even if Ccino hated him now.

He rushes past guards and can’t help but notice there are a lot more guards than usual. There is a nervous energy in the air and Killer just pushes his limbs to move faster.

He finally finds the king’s room and he listens. He hears nothing. He sees no bright light under the door… He unlocks this door and pushes the door open.

The room is familiar… but empty again.

He wants to cry. No please. He knows… he knows he doesn’t deserve it… he knows he ruined the most beautiful thing and he ever had and his soul hurts. But he had just wanted to see him… to apologise and at least try to be there for the other. At least for a little bit.

He rubs his sockets to wipe the stupid tears away. No. Don’t. You aren’t allowed to do that. You don’t deserve to be sad about it when you are part of the cause of it.

Footsteps and he glances around. He rushes towards the balcony and pretty much launches himself out of it. He grabs some vines and hangs there silently. There is silence before the door is closed again.

Okay. What now? Killer has no idea what to do now. He hadn’t considered the thoughts that maybe Ccino would be gone already….

He sighs as he leans his skull against the wall.

This he does deserve. To live with this regret for the rest of his life.

He sighs as he glances around before noticing something… There is a rose growing on the vine… That is new. He leans backwards a bit and notices that the roses are following one direction specifically. It takes him a moment but he ends up following. May as well and his curiosity is peaked.

He ends up climbing along the wall of the tower which leads to be almost above the courtyard. He follows it back down a bit as his mental map of the place shifts to give him a general idea of where he is and-

The flowers bloom most by a very, very, small balcony… One he knows so well.

Ccino and him used to sit there, hidden by darkness and the banister. Talking and laughing softly until deep in the evening. He gave Ccino their first kiss right there…

Killer ends up standing there as he glances inside.

There is a shadow in Ccino’s bed. His soul speeds up and he rushes inside.

He is here. The light feeling in his soul is overwhelming. It is too much and he dashes towards the bed. To be by his side. He smiles and sits down on the bed and checks his face. He is asleep. He looks exhausted but he is here and alive and Killer could cry!

Ccino hums sleepily as his sockets open just a bit and they are staring at one another. Killer holds his breath as Ccino looks confused at him “Killer?” he sounds so tired.

Killer feels any hesitation melt away when Ccino just looks at him. There is not a smitch of hate on his face. Just soft confusion. Killer smiles as he carefully wraps his arms around the other “Hey… I am here…” He is here.

Ccino stares at him before a soft smile covers his face. It is beautiful. Ccino hums as he pushes close into his arms “Mmh… This is my favourite dream…”.

It takes a moment before Killer can focus on what he said over how adorable that sleepy voice is and how much Killer missed hearing it.

A dream?

Killer chuckles as he nuzzles him “A dream?”

Ccino hums again as he relaxes in his hold “Yeah… that is the only time you are here… when you are back…” his eyes are closed and he looks so relaxed “When you love me…”

Killer freezes as he pulls him closer “I do love you. I love you so much.”

Ccino however doesn’t seem to wake up more. Instead he just pushes himself fully against him as he smiles contently.

Fully believing this is nothing but a dream… and Killer can’t even blame him… Killer hardly ever made it obvious how much he loves him after all. It wasn’t even clear to Killer for a long time…

Killer is a selfish person. He has known that for a long time now. But as he holds Ccino, someone so beautiful both inside and outside. Someone so caring and too good for this world. Someone Killer does not deserve to have look at him. Killer realises it once again.

Ccino rarely asked for things. And then one time he actually asked for something? It had been to be free with Killer. And when Killer didn’t want to give that to him, when Killer denied it even after offering it? Because he had been scared of his own reaction, his own impulsive decision to offer the idea of running away to Ccino. Killer had later on be relieved that Ccino hadn’t agreed. As it has been an impulsive action and offer. Killer didn’t even have an idea on how to help Ccino escape… Only for Ccino to later say he did want to do it. Risk it all. Die after only a month or two? It they were lucky? Hearing that caused panic in tow different ways; one, it brought back to shock and fear of how his own feelings and emotions had changed; but two, the fear of waking up one day knowing that Ccino was gone.

He denied Ccino’s one wish to escape. He denied Ccino his own choice to escape and be free. To do with his life what he wanted. Killer still can’t believe he did that… That Ccino didn’t hate him for it afterwards…

Then, as if that wasn’t the worst, the second thing Ccino ever asked for anything. It was simply for Killer to stay with him as he had been scared. Killer had choosing his own freedom over Ccino’s needs. Ccino had understood. Never blamed him. But Killer is scum.

Two things. That is all Ccino ever asked of him. Just two things. And he did neither.

Killer pulls Ccino close. Ccino isn’t even fully awake. Fully believing that Killer is just a dream his tired and desperate mind called up. Killer still whispers promises to him. That Killer will stay this time. That he isn’t going anywhere. He will actually be there when Ccino wakes up.

Killer does not deserve any of the love Ccino offers him. But at least he can start trying to be worthy of it.

It is even worse to see that glass rose right there. On the nightstand. Nearby and still looking pristine. Ccino kept it. After everything… with all the trauma and fear and hurt he was forced through again, by Killer as well, he still kept it.

Killer softly kisses the top of the skull before frowning. Wait… does Ccino even still want him to do this? Is he allowed? He doesn’t… he shouldn’t do this until he gets the okay. It is unfair to just take. But that is what Killer does isn’t it? Just take and take and take…

Not this time.

Killer had already made too many mistakes when it came to them and their situationship. Killer wants to kiss his face all over but stops himself as he mutters instead “It is okay… I am not leaving you this time.” He had spent quite a while thinking. Realising his mistakes and how he had just…

It hadn’t started with feelings. Don’t get him wrong, he had been attracted to Ccino from the start and how could you not?! The problem was. It had started as a game. Try to break into the palace of the god-king. The person who had been worshipped by the people where he grew up. The people who told him he was nothing. It was to prove he was better, he could sneak right into the heart of her castle and be fine.

So breaking and entering had been a game between jobs with Ink. It was to feel good about his skills. The fact he managed to find Ccino? Had just been nice. It has been fun to hang out with him and laugh.

It had been another win for him. Being this close to one of Nim’s dear special harem mates. And Ccino was great! Ccino was nice and sweet and always so interested in the stories he told him.

He had seen it as him winning when Ccino didn’t reject him. When they had spent the night together…

It wasn’t until… Until Killer learned that Ccino very much did not like Nim at all. That he was forced to be with her and how much it bothered him.

And he just treated their sex as something fun on the side. He had treated their whole thing as something casual that meant nothing!

He is an asshole.

Killer nuzzles the skull as he mutters “I swear I will be better now. I promise you… I promise I love you. I really do… It just took me a while.” Because he is an idiot. Because he was blind and scared for what he felt. That he couldn’t see how much he loved him.

Killer knew Ccino loved him. Pretty quickly after spending more time together with him to offer some support. To have Ccino lean against him and be honest about how he was feeling and how tough it was. It made him feel special. That show of trust showed Killer exactly how Ccino felt about him. Killer at least had cared enough to not break his heart while he was being vulnerable. At least Killer managed to offer support even if, at the time, he had thought he didn’t love Ccino.

Shows again how much of an idiot Killer had been. Killer had loved the other for a long time. It just wasn’t until he was send away, a very reasonable request after Killer once again denied him his freedom, that it started to hurt.

Killer had felt like he was going insane. Ccino was all he could think about. Other options and ideas kept popping into his mind to save him. Or things he should have said or offered instead. Hell! Even Ink noticed!

So here he is now. Back right in the lion’s nest so to speak. For the first time in months feeling completely happy and content as he holds the other. As if things are finally making sense again.

He lays his head on top of Ccino’s. Feelings of being content spreading through his soul and body as he relaxed. It feels good to be by his side again. Killer whispers again “I promise you I won’t fail you again. This time I will be by your side and help you.” He already wasted so much time with being a coward. With being an asshole. Not anymore. Not now.

He gets to enjoy this peace for a little while. Just listening as he holds his… well not partner or boyfriend. Killer doesn’t know everything about relationships but he knows enough to figure out that Killer rejecting Ccino’s two wishes to remain together and Ccino sending him away probably equals that they euh… Can you break up from a relationship that isn’t officially a relationship?

It doesn’t matter. Even if Ccino doesn’t even want to look at him anymore. That is okay. Killer is going to do things right this time. To support him and be there for him. For as long as Ccino lets him and when he is gone…

Well… That will be time for Killer to have to deal with what he did. Remember all their times together and regret not having done things right sooner. Regret all the time he wasted.

But that is for later. He now has to focus on the other. For once not put someone else’s emotions, wants and needs first.

Footsteps…

Slowly coming closer.

Killer opens one of his sockets as he glances at the door. It won’t take long before whoever is coming closer will be here. Killer smiles softly at Ccino and whispers to him as he puts their skulls together “Don’t worry okay? I am going to do things right. I am not leaving you.” Let Nim come. Killer has a surprise for her. A tri-dagger. It took Killer a while to get one but these are supposed to leave very lethal wounds.

He plans to not just make one either.

The door opens and Killer remains still. His dark sockets making him look to part of being out cold. Let them come close and strike- that isn’t Nim.

Instead there stands a guard. Who stares at him before they speak furiously “What the fuck are you doing?!”

A few things happen at once. Killer is up on the headboard instantly, perched easily as he takes out his special knife. Damn, he had hoped for no witnesses as that always messes things up.

The guard has their own weapon drawn and out. Aimed right at the bed, and Killer specifically. But Killer doesn’t care about that. How fucking dare that asshole aim that thing anywhere near Ccino?!

Ccino looks around confused and he looks actually awake now. He glances around before Killer sees him focus on him “Killer?”

The guard sputters “That is Killer?!” then the guard quickly closes the door before glaring at Killer “If it isn’t the useless ex.”

Ccino flinches and Killer glares but he stashes the knife. Ccino isn’t even looking at him anymore thanks to that asshole.

Killer huffs “And you are the asshole who wakes up an obviously tired pregnant guy. Way to be considered.”

Ccino isn’t looking at either for them as he toys with the blanket. The guard nears them and Killer is glaring.

Worse is when the guard helps Ccino fully up right and makes sure the blanket is still around him. Killer hates this guard. He hates them so much.

The guard huffs as they stare at him after they are done moving Ccino around “What are you even doing here? I thought you ran with your tail between your legs when you were asked for the tiniest bit of commitment.”

Ccino glares at the guard “Rogers.” he hisses.

Killer is trying to slow his breathing. Ccino… Ccino wouldn’t have said that. At least never with those words. Their own conclusion maybe? Killer sees Ccino glance at him before looking away immediately.

Rogers looks unapologetic “What? It is the truth.” He glares back at Killer.

Killer glares right back “It is none of your concern.” He carefully sits back down on the bed. He wants to pull Ccino into another embrace. He used to do that all the time but is he allowed to do that still? He was never this conscious about his moves before right? Why does it feel like he isn’t allowed to do any of it anymore?

Right… because he left…

The guard, Rogers apparently, glares at him “None of that. Away from Ccino and the bed.” He nods towards the side “I think we all here know you can not be trusted.”

Ccino shoots Rogers a look as Killer glares at the guard. This fucking asshole.

Ccino mutters “It is fine… If he wants to sit there it is fine…” Killer can’t help but puffs up his chest a little at that. Take that asshole! Killer is allowed!

Rogers frowns at Ccino “Is that something you want? Or is it something you are saying because he wants it?”

Killer feels his soul freeze at that as he glances at Ccino. It is because Ccino wants it right?

Ccino doesn’t look up as he just messes with his blankets.

Right?

Killer goes to reach towards Ccino but Ccino tenses.

No… please no…

Killer isn’t sure what to do. He doesn’t know what to say to make this right. Please. Please he is so sorry.

A hand grabs his shoulder and Killer yelps as he is pulled off the bed. Killer glares at Rogers as Ccino stares at him “Rogers?”

Rogers grins at Ccino “I am just going to talk with him. It is okay. This is stressing you and your twins out.”

Ccino frowns but doesn’t go against it. Rogers mentions that some Robin will come bring him food later and that Ccino still has some time to relax. Then Rogers drags him outside of the room.

They are left standing in a brightly lit hall. Rogers sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose as he closes his eyes. He mutters about things getting even more complicated.

Killer glares “What the fuck do you want?”

Rogers stops and stares at him “Seriously? You think that is what this is about? And not about the fact that you are toying with one of my friend’s feelings just so you can get your adrenaline kick in?”

Killer glances to the side and hisses through his teeth “It isn’t like that.” Not now. Maybe before but not anymore. This isn’t about… Well it is sort of still about what he feels and wants but it isn’t about having fun or something stupid! It is about Killer wanting to do what is right. To actually be there for someone who only ever loved him.

Rogers rubs his temper as he clearly thinks “Listen. If I had it may way? I would either give you to the other guards to deal with after mentioning you were trying to break into Ccino’s room. Kick you out of a window, or finish you myself. But I can’t.”

Killer snorts as he crosses his arms “You know you would lose I assume?” He feels smug.

Rogers looks at him as if he is an idiot “Because Ccino for some stupid reason still loves you and quite honestly I don’t want to hurt him by hurting you.”

Killer’s smile falls from his face.

Rogers sighs again as he glares down the hall. Clearly thinking for a moment before looking at him “Why are you here?”

Killer crosses his arms as he looks to the side. Feeling too exposed as he keeps glancing around the hall “It is none of your business.”

Rogers looks unimpressed “If it is about Ccino that automatically makes it my business.”

Killer glares back at Rogers “And why do you think that?! He isn’t yours!” He was barely Killer’s. And how badly Killer had wanted that to have been the case. He can accept that he doesn’t deserve Ccino or his love or to call him his. But he is not going to accept some random guy saying Ccino is his! Killer refuses to accept that! If Ccino is going to be anyone’s Ccino is going to be… well… Ccino’s!

Rogers glares right back “Because I am his friend. And unlike you Robina dn I actually give  ashit about how he feels and try to help him.”

Killer glares “You don’t fucking know how I feel. Stop acting as if you do.”

“You left him once before. And I quite honestly don’t know if he can pull himself together if you do it again.”

Killer stops when he hears that. Rogers doesn’t even look smug about making him quiet. Rogers just looks tired. Rogers stares at him “At this point there are only two options as any other option would hurt him. Either you go now. Say you just wanted a chance to clear stuff up and say goodbye. You actually end this whole thing fully and reasonable. Or, if you decide to stay. You stay. You stay with him and help him until the end.” Rogers sighs as he rubs his face “God knows he deserves to have something he wants for once.”

Killer feels himself grow angry again “I wasn’t going to leave. I came back for a fucking reason you asshole. And it has nothing to do with what you said. I wanted to be with him.”

Rogers raises an eyebrow as he looks so unimpressed “Really? And what about your past track record would have been a clue for that option?”

Killer glares as he huffs “I am going to go back to Ccino now as this is a waste of precious time.” So precious. He already wasted so much. He can’t waste even more on some wannebe guard. He walks towards the door and Rogers stops him again.

Rogers speaks softly “He has gone through a lot. Just… Don’t add more stress to him.” He lets go and goes to stand by the wall across from the door. Seemingly to do his guard duty.

Killer enters the room again and sees Ccino look up and the anxious face transforms into surprise “Killer? You are… still here?” The surprise. The disbelieve.

Killer rushes to his side and slowly climbs back on the bed and very slowly reaches over. Ccino is still as Killer wraps his arms around him. Holding him close before frowning. He feels cold… Killer grabs the blanket and tugs it closer around Ccino “Fuck you are freezing… do you want to take a bath? Warm up a bit?” or are there clothes around? Maybe a nice warm sweater would be nice. He still feels so thin. Aren’t these guys feeding him still? Killer should have grabbed food along the way. Something for Ccino to enjoy, and maybe as a peace offering.

Ccino just stares at him “Why are you here?”

Killer gives an uncertain smile, he kicks down the instinct to look away, to not have to see Ccino look at him. Instead he answers “Honestly… I missed you.”

Ccino gets a small smile before it falls, it is gone before it was even fully there. He looks down and mutters “I don’t… I didn’t… I thought…” He frowns and stops.

Killer leans against him as he tries to share his own body heat with him. Killer wishes he hadn’t been a skeleton monster. Skeleton monsters have terrible heat preservation in their bodies. Killer just hums as he rubs his arms to try and get some heat into him. Even if Killer doesn’t interrupt it seems the Ccino still ends up not saying a lot. Instead he just leans into the hold.

They sit silently for a moment before Killer snorts “Your friend? Rogers? He hates me.” He makes sure to grin and look amused.

Ccino winces “He doesn’t hate you.” he pauses before sighing “He just… doesn’t approve I think?”

Killer snorts as he hugs him “Nah. He approves anything that makes you happy. He just hates my guts.” Which he deserves. “Which is fine btw. I am not scared of a guy glaring. Just…” He shoots Ccino a look “He never like.. tried anything right?” Because if he did they would have issues.

Ccino frowns before looking highly amused “Rogers? Try anything? Nah. I am pretty sure he isn’t into that whole thing. He cares about Robin and me but we are friends. I think Rogers has zero interest in either relationships or sex. I think he is going to end up marrying his job if he has any choice…” Ccino looks thoughtful “Same for Robin honestly.”

It calms Killer as he snorts “You know what? Fair enough.” He leans his skull against Ccino and waits for a moment “Is this okay? I know… I know I was a jerk… and asshole… I shouldn’t have left. I am sorry I abandoned you and… It is totally okay if you don’t want me to hug you anymore.” It is okay. Just… open communication. He can say if he is uncomfortable and Killer will respect the boundaries he sets. Easy!

Ccino glances at him. He looks confused “I… don’t think you were being a jerk? And this is fine. Really. It is nice… It is nice to have someone near.” He has a small smile on his face.

Killer however is stuck on the first thing he mentioned. “How can you…” Not hate me. Not be disgusted with me “Say I was not rude? I abandoned you.”

Ccino frowns at him. Still some confusion on his face “But… you didn’t?” He must see something on Killer’s face as his confusion becomes a gentle smile. He raises a hand and rubs Killer’s cheek and Killer leans into the hand “Hey… Just because we had different expectations doesn’t mean you abandoned me… You were not responsible for my wellbeing Killer. I never saw you as responsible for that. It would have been unfair to place such expectations on you.” He smiles at him.

Killer frowns “But… you wanted me to stay. And I just left.” The hurt on his face. The sad expression is burned into Killer’s memory.

Ccino just keeps smiling sadly “It is true… I wanted you to stay… But that is just it Killer. It is what I wanted. And you didn’t want it. It would have been unfair of me to expect something of you that you didn’t want. To expect you to be miserable for my comfort.” Ccino smiles at him “I never meant for you to feel responsible for me Killer. If… if you want to leave. That is okay.” he smiles.

Killer can see it. Ccino means it. There is not a smidge of doubt on his face.

Killer holds him close. Feels the other against him as he mutters “I want to stay. With you specifically. It can be anywhere as long as I am with you. I had needed time, I think, to see that. To understand that.”

Ccino hums as he leans into his hold. His own arms still shielding his sternum. Where his soul lies, where his soullings lie. “I get it. A lot happened in a very short time. It was overwhelming you.” and he gives another smile.

What did Killer do to get him to love him? Honestly what was it? Killer doesn’t know. He tries it again “I just… it feels…” he takes a deep breath “It felt like such an asshole thing. It wasn’t a big deal… I could have stayed to give you comfort and support… and I just ran away. Scared for my own comfort.”

Ccino just keeps looking at him gently “I will just be repeating myself but… it is true. I know before I even asked it that it would be unfair to ask of you to stay. To ask you to give up something you loved.” Ccino looks amused “I am not an idiot Killer. I know you loved traveling. And I am aware of that what you do isn’t exactly legal.” Killer feels sheepish and it must show as Ccino just looks more amused “I knew it means the world to you.” he lays his hand on Killer’s hand “It is also part of why I asked you to not return, when you didn’t want to stay. I knew it would be more dangerous and just unsafe for you to remain. I knew security would be higher with the heirs on their way. I will admit it was partly to help me…” Ccino laughs as he rubs his cheek. His smile turning sadder as he speaks “It isn’t your fault that I got more emotionally invested into something that was just supposed to be fun.” He looks sad by the admission.

Killer hugs him closer to him. feel the curve of the other’s spine against his front “I love you.”

Ccino sighs “You don’t need to lie Killer. I know that Rogers… he probably told you to be nice because… well…” he chuckles “The twins will eventually cause my soul to burst.” He leans more against him “But I don’t want you to lie. I don’t want you to say or do stuff you don’t feel comfortable and happy with. Stuff you don’t want.” He smiles up at Killer “I am tougher than I look. I won’t break that easily.”

Killer puts his skull against Ccino’s “Ccino.” It feels so good to be close to him again “I came back because I wanted to be near you. Because I missed you and wanted a chance to make up for abandoning you.” He stares at him “I really do love you.”

He can see that Ccino hears him.

He can also see that Ccino doesn’t believe him.

Ccino sighs but leans into his arms as he just rests.

Killer frowns but holds him. It is to be expected. Killer hasn’t exactly acted like someone in love should. Killer will need to show he does love him. That he truly cares. That he isn’t just some past time or amusement.

They sit in silence and Killer hums “We will need to think of something about keeping me out of sight of Nim.” Maybe he can still join the guard? Or steal armour to look the part? That way he can blend in.

Ccino blinks and looks confused at Killer “Rogers didn’t tell you?”

Killer tilts his skull “Tell me what? And aside from telling me I was an asshole in many ways he didn’t say much.” No need to stress Ccino out about what the fact that Rogers threatened to end Killer. Not in that many words of course but it was implied!

Ccino rubs his cheek as he looks to the side. He looks… Awkward? “We don’t really need to worry about her anymore…”

Killer feels hope blossom in his soul “Did she finally lose her weird obsession with you? That is amazing news!” Ccino gets to relax and focus on himself! Maybe they can sneak in more food for him.

Ccino laughs as he looks downright sheepish “She… euh… Is dead.”

Killer blinks. He is happy of course. Fuck yeah that fucking freak and pedophile of a monster is finally gone! But… why does Ccino not look happy? And…wait…

Killer frowns “I thought the whole deal was that she could only like die by passing the magic stuff along? And well…” he looks pointedly at the sternum Ccino is still covering “I don’t think they can get magic when they are still soullings right?”

Ccino rubs his cheek “I mean… She didn’t… she was murdered?” He grins sheepish “I… may have indirectly caused her dead?” and he waits.

Killer knows he is staring.

By the stars Killer loves this monster.

--

Ccino told him what he knew after that.

Killer listened to the whole thing and stares in wonder up at the plants hanging above the bed now.

Now that he thinks about it. The last time he was in this room it was much more stone and marble. Everything felt cold and was a more greyish colour. Now the floors were a warm brown and clear wooden planks. The walls are a lighter brown and the branch like texture is clearer than ever and Killer thinks there are even some new tiny twigs growing. The bed is beautiful now as the posts are covered in light green vines and the top of the bed has an almost net of leaves with bright coloured flowers.

Ccino glances at him and rubs his hands “I know it must sound insane.” He looks sad.

Killer shakes his skull “No! I mean. It sounds strange but this country has been ruled by a family that did a shifty magic ritual to pass along a god magic type of deal that enables them to life anywhere between 500 and a 1000 years. To hear that this magic rebelled? It is not the strangest thing.” And more importantly “And I think… I may have kinda met it?”

Ccino stares at him in shock “What?!”

Killer holds up his hands “I didn’t know?! I just… The first time I snuck in? It was coincidence. I took a wrong turn.” He still remembers seeing Ccino. All dressed up and pretty. Light make up to highlight some of his features and clothes so bare that Killer hadn’t known where to look and afraid to move. Then Ccino had been sassy and humorous as he send him on his way? Killer is pretty sure he fell a little bit right then and there, and no he isn’t talking about his small trip out of the window, how he didn’t realise until later is beyond him.

The thing is. After that?

“It was the visits after. When I would try to sneak in to get to you.” it had been to prove that he was better, smarter? Than Nim. Getting to hang out with Ccino was the greatest bonus to that ever. “The thing is. I never knew beforehand where you were? I would be sneaking around and notice like… plants? Easy to climb vines. Small flowers that had bright colour to grab my attention?” It had been guiding him. Right to Ccino.

He grins at Ccino “It must have been trying to help us. A little?”

Ccino looks shocked as he looks down. His hand raised near his sternum. Killer thinks it is cute to see. The way that he seems to automatically seems to guard his soullings. Killer hums as he holds the other close.

Ccino is frowning “Maybe… I still don’t… understand why it made them sick… Why it made Nightmare and Dream sick.” He leans into his embrace.

Killer hums and shrugs “I don’t know… but maybe It had reasons that we just didn’t know. Seeing as It moved to defend you? Protected you and referred to the twins as yours? I think It may have had plans that we don’t understand.” Killer shrugs “Maybe It was trying to remove any of Nim’s magic and influence?” it is a guess.

Ccino gains a small smile “Maybe… it is strange… I just keep wondering if I did something to anger It. That I did something to make It mad and make It hurt the twins. That it was my fault in some way that they died.”

Killer holds him close “Hey.” Ccino flinches and Killer has none of it “No please Ccino look at me.” Ccino glances up. There is just guilt and grieve on his face. “Ccino. You did nothing but love those two. You did nothing but do your best to love them and make sure they were okay. You were not the one who failed them. You did what you could. It must have seen that too, It must have been aware of that.”

Ccino just looks sadder “Then why did I have to lose them? It hurts so much. I still miss them so much.” He sobs and laughs softly “I almost… I almost want to believe her. That she kept their souls and planted them in mine specifically. It feels like… It feels like I am fixing my past mistakes. That I can at least give them a chance at life as I failed and.” He sobs.

Killer holds him close. Just lets him cry. Killer doesn’t understand what Ccino is saying and implying but with how Nim is? How insane she was? Killer wouldn’t be surprised if she told him some wild story to make Ccino more complacent and willing. Killer will ask him later. For now? For now he will just hold him.

In the end Ccino just lays against him. Hiding his face in Killer’s shoulder. Breathing calming slowly as he seems to calm down. Killer just rubs his back. Some tiny part happy that Ccino trusts him enough to use him as support, and as shield for his soullings. It feels good. To be there for him. To actually help in some tiny way.

Ccino pulls away and chuckles as he wipes his face “Sorry for that… I know crying isn’t really… shouldn’t happen…”

Killer frowns “Why not?” he snorts as he motions towards the ever present tar like tears on his face “I literally do it all the time.”

Ccino looks slightly panicked “Oh no I didn’t! I didn’t mean for you! It is just… a thing.” He rubs his neck “Everyone, well not everyone but you get it, always told me to not cry. Something about it leaving marks and like stuff near the sockets? That it would make me less pretty and well Nim deserved the best.”

Killer groans “Fucking assholes all of them. Crying is good for you! It helps like soul and emotion stuff! If you keep it all bottled up it just hurts.” he swears if he hears anyone make a comment like that he is stabbing them.

Ccino looks a bit more unsure “Sorry… I just…”

Killer shakes his skull “Not against you Ccino.” He holds his hand “You did nothing wrong. I swear.” Ccino looks a tiny bit calmer.

Then the door opens.

A human woman walks in. She does not look impressed “No sex with the pregnant and weakened monster.” She walks over.

Ccino sputters and looks embarrassed “Robin! We weren’t!” he shoots Killer a look before just blushing more.

Robin hums as she walks over, she is carrying trays of food, “Don’t worry. Rogers gave me the run down.” She shoots Killer a look “Pleasure to meet the guy that Ccino used to sneak out of parties for. I hope you like fruit and dough as stuff like that is what is on the menu.”

Killer frowns “Not that I mind… but I thought meat as an export.”

Both Ccino and Robin look pained. Ccino is the one that answers “No… euh… So… Ever since Nim was gone and I have been like…” he searches for the words “Pretty much in an even worse lock down as I got the next generation of god-kings in me? The priest has spoken with me a lot. And well, I pretty much said I only really trust Rogers and Robin?”

Robin nods “Priest put us two in charge of making sure that Ccino is okay.” she looks deeply annoyed “Well the priest said specifically the heirs. But you get the jest.”

Killer frowns as he looks from one to the other “What was that to do with the meat situation?”

Robin sighs “Well, I got a list from the medics and healers about what is good for pregnant monsters and stuff.” She looks annoyed “As if I don’t know. Either way. I saw that meat was one of the things on the list so I went to the storage and decided to investigate what was around.” She shrugs at his questioning look “I was reading into which meat was best and healthiest for him. I wanted to see what was available and if I had to ration anything out…”

“That is how I found out our meat was imported from Whispering.”

Killer stares before he stares horrified “Holy shit… human meat?!”

Robin nods “Indeed!! Which… yeah. No.” Ccino nods in agreement as he looks slightly sick. “We have been going with vegetarian meals for Ccino now but that means a lot of different ingredients and stuff.”

Killer nods because holy shit. That is a lot. He never actually taste human meat, not even when he and Ink had a mission in Whispering.

Robin grins “Either way!” she puts down the bowls with oatmeal with all kinds of fruits. She sets down a plate with tiny rolls of cake like bread with a spread in the middle. She points at the oatmeal “Oatmeal with banana, strawberry and blueberries.” She points to the cakelike roll “Vanila sweet break roll.” She looks begging at Ccino “Just eat what you can. Put everything else aside for later okay?” she smiles as she gets up. Ccino says his thanks before she leaves them to eat.

Killer frowns “Does she always leave after giving food?”

Ccino looks embarrassed “No. Usually she eats with me… but well… you are here and… I guess she is giving us time to catch up.” He is blushing and looking away and to the side.

Killer feels his soul wiggle and flutter as Ccino looks so shy. To distract both of them he grabs a bowl and holds it up to Ccino as peace offering.

Ccino luckily takes it and starts to eat. He makes sure to eat the fruit first and Killer joins him. Makes sure the other doesn’t feel weird about eating alone and he tries to match Ccino. He eats a lot slower than Killer but he doesn’t mind.

Ccino actually starts to look a bit better as he seems to sigh happily with each bite. Clearly enjoying the food.

He pauses when the bowl isn’t completely empty as he shudders.

It is terrifying. To see the way that his cheeks seem to grow a little thinner. To see him start to shake as the heat in his body seems to leave him. Killer is quick to wrap the blanket back around him and puts his own jacket around him as well.

Killer looks anxiously at him. Ccino however is calm as he smiles. He has dark exhausted marks under his sockets now “The two little soullings need to eat… It isn’t exactly as if we are made to support two souls… It is hard to… have the nutrients and energy for both of them.” he waves around “It is why I stay here… I usually sleep a lot. Only waking to take a bath and to eat four times a day.” He laughs as he rubs his cheek.

Killer frowns “It was never this bad… before…” he thinks at least. He never saw the full thing.

Ccino shrugs “I used to get magic injections. It felt terrible and I hated them but. Well. It was much easier to keep up with the demand for magic that way even if I still didn’t eat. I prefer food though, even if I am almost always tired and don’t have any mana or magic or energy left for anything but the soullings.” He leans against him as he shudders.

Killer nods as he files that away to keep an eye on “Need to aly down and rest?”

Ccino shakes his skull as “No. I just. Need a moment to let them absorb magic. Then I should be able to eat a bit more… and well… I enjoy talking to you.” he smiles at him.

Killer chuckles as he nuzzles the skull by his own “I am not going anywhere Ccino. I swear.”

Ccino laughs as he nods and relaxes.

Killer hums as he thinks for a while before speaking “You know. I just thought of something?”

Ccino hums questioning.

Killer grins a little bit to himself “All I am saying is… Who says that Nim is the other parent you know?”

Ccino blinks at him confused “It are twins Killer.”

Killer nods “I know I know but. Hear me out. I am just saying. Everyone thought Nim is the other parent because everyone thought she was the only one you were intime with.” Which she truly had no right to “Maybe… Well… we were intime. And we are both skeletons and much more compatible. For all we know… Nim’s magic may have caused you to be able to carry and get twins… but maybe the twins weren’t made by her.”

Ccino frowns as he stares ahead.

Killer rubs his neck “I just… I thought… Maybe… if it aren’t your original twins… it is easier to think about them as twins that Nim had no influence over. That they were made from a night of” Love “consent and mutual fun.” He smiles.

Ccino stares at him and Killer suddenly gets another thought. What if it seems like Killer is trying to get a claim!?

“Obviously!! You are the parent! The real parent and like lawful parent! I mean!” Killer laughs nervously “We aren’t even married so they would  just be seen as your anyway and I would just be the babydaddy haha” even as he laughs his own sentence brings an image to mind he hadn’t thought about before. Ccino in wedding attire, would it be a dress? A suit? Maybe a curious combination?

Or maybe it would be one of the many other wedding rituals Killer knows of. Here you give the one you wish to marry a special wedding mask, either masterfully crafted or made by your own hands. Special markings to show the importance.

Other countries give rings and hold a party. To share a bond and celebrate it with those closest to the wedding pair.

Some other countries spend a few days tied to one another. To show they are connected and learn to truly work together. They end up wearing bracelets to signal this shared experience.

Ccino laughs softly, unaware of the absolute mess that Killer is now, he leans against Killer “It… is a nice thought… that Nim didn’t…” he sighs as he leans against Killer “But somewhere I also hope it really are Dream and Nightmare…”

Killer nuzzles him as sighs “That is okay. We will just have both options as the truth. If it truly are their souls in there it is them. If it turns out it aren’t them they are made of us instead.” He grins at Ccino “I just know they are going to be the most loved little babybones ever.”

Ccino stares in shock “Killer… I… If I am lucky I will get to meet them but that is it…”

It hurts to think. Killer focusses on the smile “You love them now… I think that counts.”

Ccino blinks before giving him a bright smile as he leans against him.

--

The whole day had been stressful.

The last month? Killer thinks it went by too fast. There isn’t enough time in the day to enjoy the time he gets to spend with Ccino. There isn’t enough time at night to hold the other close in a cuddle. There just. Wasn’t enough time.

And then his soul cracked. Ccino had been shaking silently and crying in pain. Not giving a kick even as the soullings broke his soul from the inside out. Too large.

It had been a miracle already. That it took so long before it happened. That Ccino’s soul had managed.

Something about the soullings having been very calm. Not pushing or pulsing within Ccino’s soul. Even if it meant that there was too little space and the two were stretching his soul the no movement kept things stable.

Doesn’t make this any better. Doesn’t make it better that he is this hurt now.

Killer had just held him. Held him close as the soulling separated completely.

And then the soullings just… left his body. Two bright little stars. Shining in the dark and quiet room.

Their bodies having been shaped with twin flashes or bright yellow and purple magic.

Leaving two tiny babybones behind.

Killer holds Ccino close as he shakes and shivers in his hold. Killer however is still in slight aw at the two babybones that Robin is slowly cleaning. He hadn’t thought… It was insane… The light the magic… shit…

Killer grins at Ccino ready to congratulate him when he realises that Ccino stopped shaking… stopped… breathing.

Killer feels everything go still “Ccino?” no response. Killer holds him closer and rubs his arm “Ccino… Ccino come on… please respond…” He… he knows what everyone said… that a monster soul can’t handle having two soullings at the same time… but it is Ccino! And he said these where his twins!

He lays completely limp against him. No movement at all.

Killer holds him close “Come on Ccino this isn’t funny…” please… please don’t do this… please don’t…

Killer glances down and he stops breathing. Small silvery dust slowly falling off of Ccino’s hand… his face is blank and peaceful.

Killer shakes “No… no no no no… Ccino please!” don’t… don’t leave him. He holds him close as he searches for any kind of sign of life. Anything at all.

There is none.

Killer shakes his skull as he mutters “come on… You need to still meet them. You wanted to see them so badly. Come on you need to be awake for that. You need to be aware for that.” Please. Please just one more moment. Just one more minute.

A loud inhale and Killer unwillingly looks away from Ccino only to stare. Large vines are slowly creeping towards where Robin and Rogers are holding the two tiny twins. From the ceiling they are falling.

No… No…

Killer looks around and spots some slowly creeping close to Ccino. The vines swipe the dust up and seem to absorb it?!

Killer holds Ccino closer and growls at whatever is there “No! No you don’t just get to… No!”

A moment of silence before Killer feels it. Emotions not his own. Silent insistence. A quiet demand. Almost like a parent. Telling you to put something down or give something back.

Killer shakes his skull again “He isn’t yours! You don’t just get to claim him.” it isn’t fair. It isn’t fair it isn’t fair!

The silent presence grows annoyed. Before a slight anger. Killer shudders under it as he holds Ccino. He isn’t letting him go. He isn’t giving this thing Ccino. Killer feels himself growl “No. You don’t get to act as if you have any right to him! You let him go through hell. You allowed that. You don’t get to act as if you have the best in mind for him now.”

Killer would hate to lose Ccino. He would hate more for Ccino to once again be claimed by something god like. To once again be trapped. He doesn’t deserve that.

Killer will grief for the rest of his life. But he is not letting Ccino go from one cage to the next. He isn’t going to let whatever it is take him and his twins.

Silence. Nudges at his mind and Killer shakes as flashes before his mind. Ccino for a moment. Smiling and happy. Another of him sad and alone. Then pictures of older people. Or people going from pretty to ugly. A silent demand.

Killer frowns as he looks around confused “What are you implying? That Ccino will grow older?! That is the whole fucking point! Him living! Him getting to actually be with his twins?! After everything?” He told them before. He isn’t leaving. He is going to stay with Ccino until Ccino wants him gone. And even then Killer will make sure to check in, from a distance of course. He won’t interfere in his life but he will make sure he is okay.

Silence again.

Then he sees the vines retreat from where Robin is holding both the twins close. Protecting them. Killer looks down and stares at lines of yellowish green magic slowly near Ccino.

He stares at the dusted hand is put back together dust particle by dust particle. Killer can see the shining outline of Ccino’s soul. The one that is broken into shards slowly melt back into one whole soul.

Ccino shudders and gasps as he looks around confused.

Killer holds his face “Ccino? Ccino please tell me it is you…?”

Ccino looks confused “Kill…Kills?” he shakes and looks around panicked “Where… where are…” he looks so scared.

Robin is quicker as she sits next to him and whispers “Look. They are both here.” She hands both of them to Ccino.

Ccino stares and laughs “It… it is them… it is really them… Nighty… Little Dream… They are both…” he sobs as he leans against Killer.

Killer just holds them. His soul still shaking as he glances around. Seeing that more flowers had grown.

Killer laughs as he hugs Ccino close. He feels his own normal tears mix with the tar normally leaking. He is so happy… He… he did at least something… He truly actually helped.

Maybe It had always been planning this. Maybe It was testing them. Maybe Killer managed to change It’s mind. Or maybe It just felt like doing this in the moment.

It doesn’t matter. Ccino is alive. Ccino is okay. That is all that matters.

Ccino looks happily at him as he raises the twins, he nudges one with purple eyes with a very tiny yellow center “This is Nightmare.” He raises the other, yellow eyes with a tiny purple center but with yellow freckles “This is Dream.”

Killer grins and gentle shakes both the twins hands “Well hello there. I hope I am making a good first impression.” Ccino giggles and leans at him.

It is okay.

--

Rogers and Killer lean against the wall together as Robin and Ccino are washing the twins. The introduction of the twins had gone well even if everyone had been shocked to see Ccino alive.

It is why Killer is confused that Rogers pulled him aside.

Rogers glances around the halls “The original plan had been to say Ccino and the twins all died.”

Killer blinks and looks over.

Rogers doesn’t look at him “Robin and I knew that Ccino wouldn’t survive. The two of us made a plan. I would guard as today and Robin would be with Ccino to help. Then, after Ccino got to hold his twins and after he became dust… well… we would just lie. We would just say that Ccino and the twins all died at the same time. That the twins would have been to weak to exit his soul. As I reported what I saw Robin would be getting the twins out with the growing confusion. I would meet up with her and the twins later.”

Killer is in shock.

Rogers shrugs “We figured… As soon as those people got their hands on the twins? There is no way they would have been allowed to just be kids. And that is all that Ccino wanted… we were planning on just taking them away from this all. To get them somewhere where they could just be kids.” He sighs.

Killer frowns “But… Ccino is still here. He will make sure they can be kids right?”

Rogers glances to him and Killer feels afraid. That is not a good look.

Rogers sighs “The priest figured that… With Nim gone… there isn’t a real way to get them the magic or something… and well. He is saying it as a sign that Ccino survived…” Rogers frowns as he looks to the side “Blood magic and sacrifice magic is the priest most skilled in.”

Killer feels his breathing speed up. He has seen these type of rituals and knows they are not limited to small animals.

Killer focusses on Rogers “What is the plan?”

Rogers rubs his head “That is the problem. There are too many guards. Too many people who can get something out of this and are sticking around. We had been planning to use the confusion to get out. There is no window now. There is no time.” He sighs.

Killer thinks before remembering someone he had heard of in passing in Whispering. “I may know someone. But I need to find him first.” He looks unsure “What do tell Ccino?”

Rogers nods “We can buy a bit more time as you look for this guy.” He glances at the door “I don’t… want to lie. But I don’t want to stress him out either. He is already anxious about taking care of the twins now.”

Killer frowns and nods “I will just tell him it is a job. I need to find Ink as well as he may know how to find this guy.”

Rogers sighs “I hope this works.”

“Me too.”

--

Robin pushes the basket into Killers hands before skipping over to Ccino. Ccino smiles at his best friend as Robin hugs him “I love you. Have a good trip. Make sure to rest and eat.”

Ccino snorts “We are just going to the meadow Robin.”

Robin hums “I know I know. I am just saying.” She looks him in the eye “Don’t worry about us. We got things handled. Enjoy.” She winks “We know where to find you if we need you.” she grins and bows to the priest and guards before walking away to do work.

Killer snorts “Is she always like this?”

Ccino nods “If she is in a good mood. She hadn’t been in such a good mood in a while though. I wonder why.” It isn’t a date as Robin just doesn’t do that. Maybe the cooks are making her favourite tonight?

Killer holds his hand as they walk towards where Rogers is waiting with the twins. He hands one of them to each other them. Killer coos as he nuzzles the tiny head “hello there Daydream. Being a little menace?” Dream babbles happily as he bites Killer’s fingers. Eyes large as he stares innocently at Killer as if he surely did not just bite Killer.

Killer nods “Ah yes. I don’t know where these random bites keep coming from. there is a mystery afoot.” Dream giggles.

Nightmare is still asleep. Little guy had a rough night with his teeth aching and is clearly tired.

The priest walks over “It was an amazing idea to go into the forest! To feel the power of the magic more closely to something connected to its source!”

Ccino nods. It hadn’t even been his idea. Rogers had offered that it would maybe be nice to have a day out. to have a picnic. Ccino had just spoken about how the magic was obviously related to something in nature and that maybe bringing himself and the twins to a spot with more nature would appease the magic more into interacting more with everyone. From there on it was easy to get people to agree.

Even if Ccino could do without the four guards following them. At least one of them was Rogers.

They get into the cart and Ccino switches twins with Killer. Killer leans back and lets Nightmare doze against him as Ccino bounces Dream as they look out of the window together. he can’t help but sneak looks at Killer.

Killer is so unbelievable good with the twins. And Ccino finds himself thinking more and more about what Killer offered as idea ages ago. How the twins could just be from them.

It is… almost easy to see them like that. Neither of them look at all like Nim. Nothing about them suggests they are Nim’s aside from them feeling warmer to the touch. But that is easy to blame on Ccino still recovering from the whole pregnancy and even getting them.

It is easy to act as if they are Killer’s.

They get to the edge of the forest and leave the carriage.

The walk through the forest is lovely. The weather had been turning colder lately but it is nice. New plants are growing and instead of the almost dried out plants everywhere it is a much softer green and everything smells amazing.

Ccino discovered that he loved the smell of rain. It had been a treat and he had sat with both his twins by the window just enjoying the sound and smell. It was so unlike anything he had experienced in a long time.

They get to the meadow and two guards make them wait as they enter it first. To search or something. Suddenly Killer is up in his business and Ccino snorts “Yes?”

Killer grins as he checks on Nightmare who is still asleep “That is good.” Then a hand covers both Dream’s eyes, who gives a surprised noise and moments later his own vision goes dark.

Ccino laughs “Killer I know the surprise already.”

The sound of choking and a moment later his view returns to him. There is dust next to Rogers on the ground as he cleans his sword.

Ccino’s mind pauses.

Killer looks sheepish “We agreed you had dealt with enough… seeing it would make it worse.”

Ccino blinks confused but then Killer tugs him past the last line of trees and… Two more dust piles on the ground. A short cloaked figure stands in the middle of the meadow. A glance shows skeletal hands.

Ccino glances at Killer.

Killer grins “This. Is Dust. He is going to help us get the fuck away from here.” He takes the bag from his shoulders as Rogers hands him another one as he goes over to this Dust person to talk apparently.

Ccino looks at Rogers “Rogers?!”

Rogers smiles “We didn’t want to stress you out.” He looks at him “You and the twins needs to leave this place. It took us a while to get the timing right but this is the quickest option we had.”

Ccino goes to ask but then he remembers Robin and her goodbye “You all knew?” he is shocked. Why hadn’t they told him?

Rogers nods “We did.” He gives him a quick hug “And don’t worry about us. Which is why we didn’t tell you to begin with. We knew you would worry about us and want us to go too. This is the best chance at success Ccino. Please just trust us that we knew what we are doing. Okay?” and he waits for a moment.

Ccino frowns as he looks at his best friend “I can’t just leave you two…”

Rogers gives him a hard look “You can and you will. You and Killer will go. Killer told us this guy can get you places and Killer’s friend can make you documents. You will go and be free. We will find you later. I promise.”

Ccino feels tears threaten to fall as he hugs his friend “You swear?”

“On my soul. Now go.” He nudges Ccino before he grabs his own blade and start to mess up his armour. He calls Killer over and gets Killer to slice him across the back. Rogers sees him look questioning and Rogers grins “Gotta make it believable. We got it. Go.” and he nudges Ccino over.

Killer takes his hand and leads him back to the third skeleton. Who had just been standing there silently the whole time. Ccino feels the need to tug both his twins closer but remains strong.

The shorted guy, Dust, looks over “Ccino. Correct?”

He says it with a bit of an accent but it is close enough. Ccino nods.

Dust nods “We need to walk. There is a cart.” He pauses and glances at the two babybones “They okay with that? We need silence?”

Ccino huffs as he tugs his twins closer and checks on Dream in Killer’s arms “Of course they are. They are both very well behaved.” Which is when Dream coos happily and tugs on the leather of the other.

Ccino is worried for a moment before seeing Dust snort “Brave little guy.” Then he just turns and waves them over to follow him.

The short walk is not short at all but closer to half an hour. Ccino is starting to feel drained and it isn’t until long and Killer is carrying both his twins for him. They get to a small path and sees a very small cart. It is one normally used for some cargo over short distances. Dust opens it up and puts their bags in it before going to the front to manage the horse pulling it. Killer climbs in first and makes sure both the twins are comfortable before helping Ccino up and in as well. He grabs a blanket from inside the cart and wraps it around him.

“Sleep. I will be here. I promise.”

Ccino nods as he leans against Killer. Feeling the cart shake slightly as it starts to move and be pulled.

They walk for a moment in silence as Killer mutters softly “He didn’t tell me exactly which path we were going to take but he has done this a lot before so I have no doubt that this will work.” He grins “Apparently he is very skilled in smuggling.”

Dust speaks from the outside “I smuggle everything well.”

Killer grins before shooting him a look “You know… You can give them any names you want. They are still young and we will be leaving this country soon. They will get new documents and from then on it will just be us…” Killer looks nervous “As long as you will have me of course.”

Ccino smiles as he leans against him “As if I would ever want you to leave.” But he gets thinking about the names. He does like the names Nightmare and Dream. But maybe something else as well?

Killer and him had been joking about what they would name the twins if they weren’t just two males…

He really liked the names Dawn and Dusk.

---

A cup of coffee is placed in front of him and Geno is pulled from his thinking. He looks up at the barista and grins “Thanks Ccino.” He glances at the coffee and feels himself blush.

The latte art is done masterfully but it is clearly of a person in a cloak.

Ccino hums “It was no trouble. Though I do feel like I should tell you that Dust won’t be here today. He is still working.” He looks amused as he says this.

Geno mumbles and quickly takes a sip of his coffee. But any haste disappears as the amazing taste fills his mouth.

No one is sure how, Geno least of all, but Ccino makes the best coffee and deserts. And Geno knows it is without magic! He checked!

Geno discovered this café almost three years ago now. It had still been newly opened and Ccino had still been setting things up. The menu back then had been simple and Ccino had been nervous about getting the right things up for sale.

Geno had been planning on just getting a coffee to show support. It was glaring obvious that Ccino had been a refuge. New and still nervous and just trying to settle.

Only to discover the best fucking coffee in the world. And Geno can know as he has been many places thanks to Reaper.

Geno made it a point to visit weekly. Which turned to more as more treats and options became available.

Geno shrugs as answer and Ccino looks amused but doesn’t say anything else. That is a nice thing about Ccino. He doesn’t push and he doesn’t sell out information. Normally people who own cafes quickly start talking about how the royal mage drinks coffee at their places. Somekind of publicity stunt or something. Ccino didn’t do that. He just let Geno and his brothers be. It was nice.

Geno sips his coffee as Ccino walks back to the counter. Mid step he pauses and reached under a table. A delighted squeek is heard and Ccino pulls back holding a tiny adorable babybones. One of the two twins, Dream is seems. Ccino nuzzles the little face before walking back to the counter. Now a tiny child carried in his arm and on his hip.

Geno had wondered about it, obviously. He wondered who Ccino had gotten the twins with. What the whole story was.

He did some snooping. Near the start. He knows they are from Orchard. And he knows about the stories about royal twins and how those are the heirs to be the next king that ascends or something.

Which just makes Geno more confused on what Ccino’s role is for the twins. If the twins’s ‘mother’ died in childbirth and the ‘father’ was the last king. Where did Ccino come in?

Geno would think that Ccino would be the king’s mate’s secret lover but that doesn’t work out either. Mostly because of Killer. Killer is Ccino’s mate and lover. That is obvious by how they interact and how they nuzzle and greet each other. The way that Killer greets the two kiddos as his own kids. Yet on the documents it just says that Ccino is their parent and there isn’t a mention of Killer.

Geno had been curious…

Especially with how they had reacted to Reaper.

Reaper had wanted to see the spot that made Geno leave the castle and his study. Reaper had wanted to visit and enjoy a cup of coffee.

As soon as Ccino had seen Reaper and normal cheer disappeared. There had only been a mask of politeness. Careful and measured responses and efficient movement. The two kids, only babies back then, had stared at Reaper and started fussing and crying when Reaper got too close to them.

The way Killer had been watching. Ready to tackle Reaper at the first wrong side.

Reaper and Geno both didn’t need more than two minutes to realise that there was a traumatic response to the very sight of a monarch. Geno made sure to get their orders to go. Apologising that he couldn’t sit down and drink but that they had a schedule. Ccino made the to go orders and even let them keep the cups. Saying that he didn’t have any to go cups but that it was alright.

The next time Geno come in he was alone again. He brought the two cups back and couldn’t help but notice that there where now paper cups and tops. Just in case clearly.

It wasn’t until a few days later that he met Dust for the first time.

It was near closing and Dust had walked in. Mysterious and dressed in a cloak. He walked up to Ccino and Ccino had smiled at him? He had hugged him as if he was an old friend and thanked him for being willing to watch the twins.

Geno had wanted to ask him what the deal was with his magic but Ccino had a very strict no tolerance of intolerance policy. Meaning he will kick you out and ban you if you are an ass.

So all Geno could do was watch and make actual small talk.

And now he visits almost daily to try and get a glance.

Reaper says it is cute that Geno has a crush.

His brothers think it is hilarious.

The door rings as Killer walks in.

Dream cheers and waddles over to Killer.

Killer grins as he spins the little babybones around “Well if it sin’t mister Dream Dusk! How are you doing DD?”

Dream giggles and wiggles happily. Neither of the twins are big on talking but that is alright.

Killer nods “Ah yes. Big day I hear. Learning to count higher is a very hard skill to learn.” And he nods as he walks over to Ccino “Hey Ccino.”

Ccino smiles back “Hey there.” He takes Dream and nuzzles the head before smiling brightly at Killer.

Killer grins as he pulls out a very nice looking ring. He gets on one knee and holds it out “Marry me?”

Geno hears some other guests gasp. He gets it. He would be shocked too. If it weren’t for the fact that he has seen about five proposals so far. He asked Ccino about it and Ccino had sheepishly admitted that for some reason Killer has decided to try and marry him in every single culture that there is. Meaning that there have been a lot od proposals.

It is still rather sweet.

Ccino giggles and accepts the proposal. Dream cheers as Killer kisses the other. Killer get sbehind the counter and greets some guests who are still in line and easily carries the conversation as Ccino walks around with a mission. He gets to a cupboard and opens it to retreat a second tiny skeleton. The second part of the twin set.

Ccino sighs “What did I tell you about hiding in there Nighty?” Nighty, or Nightmare Dawn as his full name, grins and nuzzles close to Ccino. Looking up at the other with big watery sockets.

Ccino obviously melts as he nuzzles the tiny babybones “Lets get you and your brother back to your beds.”

Nightmare whines and looks unhappy at Ccino.

Ccino grins “Well I will have to. Otherwise you don’t have enough energy to greet your aunty Robin and uncle Rogers now do we?”

Nightmare immediately looks excited and nods “Okay Da.”

Ccino grins as he walks over to Killer and Dream. He picks Dream up as well and after checking with Killer he leaves to disappear through the back door. Dream and Nightmare both happily wave at everyone else but specifically Killer as they both say “Bye Pa!” “Bye-bye Papa!” and the door closes as Killer giving a loud ‘love you two!’ into their directions.

It is sweet.

They are surrounded by mysteries and something else that Geno can’t put his finger on. But he won’t push.

He will try to learn of course but well. For now there is amazing coffee and he isn’t in a hurry.

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hi, there! I've seen you're asking for some Thunderbolts requests, so: what about the reader and Bob having to share a bed during a mission, having both big crushes for each other? No pressure at all, only if you like the idea ☺️ thank you!!

a/n: Ah yes the one bed trope, one i love reading but never got around to writing. Okay so i didn't know if you wanted it to be a smut but i ended making it one 😬 hope that's okay. Also thanks for the request and enjoy!

Bob Reynolds X Reader: No room for secrets.

Warnings: smut, one bed trope, mutual pinning, forced proximity, wet dream, injuries (not graphic), kissing, Bob being a sweetheart, penetration (p in v ), cowgirl, handjob, kind of subby Bob, fluff, cute ending, no use of y/n.

Word count: 4.3K (i am so fucking sorry)

You were going to kill Valentina.

You’d stumbled into the room, half-walking, half-dragging yourself inside. The mission you'd just finished had been successful, but you didn’t get out completely unscathed. You felt like shit, and all you wanted to do was lie down and pass out.

And you were planning to—until you saw your room.

You and Bob always shared a room. It was just how things ended up being organized. Ava and Yelena got a room, Bucky and John shared another, and Alexei slept alone—because the Russian's snores made it impossible for anyone else to fall asleep in the same room. That left you paired up with Bob. It didn’t bother you. Bob was sweet and quiet. He kept to himself and didn’t talk in his sleep. He was practically the perfect roommate.

The only thing was that you each slept in your own twin bed. Space and privacy—well, as much privacy as you could get while sharing a room.

You stared at the queen bed in front of you, doing your best not to let your face show how pissed you were. You were failing miserably, of course. Anyone who walked into the room could tell you were angry.

You turned to face the door just as Bob walked in. He had a bag of chips in his hand, which told you he’d stopped to raid the snack machine on the way. He walked in, a small smile gracing his features.

And then he noticed your expression, and his smile shifted into a look of confusion.

You didn’t even bother saying anything, opting instead to just point at the bed. Bob moved closer to you, the bed finally coming into his line of sight. It took him a moment to realize the problem, his eyebrows rising as he finally understood the issue.

You sighed. You needed to calm down before doing anything else. Poor Bob wasn’t the subject of your anger, so you weren’t going to make him a victim of it.

“I need a shower,” you muttered, moving to grab your bag from the floor. “We can figure this out after we clean up, okay?”

You turned to Bob, who was still staring at the bed. He looked at you and gave a small nod.

“O-okay.”

You took your sweet time in the shower. Washing off the grime from the mission was easy; the problem was the thousands of little cuts and bruises littered all over your body. Every movement hurt a bit, and the soap stung wherever it found your skin. Still, you managed to get cleaned up.

You walked out of the bathroom, releasing a wave of steam as you stepped back into the room. Bob was sitting in the armchair, eyes glued to the TV as he finished his chips.

“Bathroom’s free. If you wanna clean up.”

Bob shifted his focus to you as soon as he heard your voice. He stared for a moment. You kept patting your hair dry with the towel as he observed you.

Bob couldn’t help but notice how pretty you looked. You were in what he guessed were your pajamas, your hair still damp from the shower, beads of water sliding down your skin. It felt awfully… homey, seeing you like this. So casual. So close. He was having a hard time stopping his mind from spinning a thousand scenarios of what it would be like to be with you—really be with you.

“Bob?”

You tilted your head slightly, your voice laced with a light note of concern. He’d been staring too long, and the questioning tone made it clear you’d noticed.

He shook his head, forcing himself back to the present.

“Sorry. My mind was somewhere else.”

“It’s okay. I left enough warm water for you. And there’s an extra towel by the sink.”

Bob’s heart fluttered at the thought that you’d cared enough to make sure he could have a warm shower—and had even laid out a towel for him. He stood, brushing crumbs off his lap before heading to the bathroom. You watched him disappear behind the door, and only then did you let out a breath. That look he’d given you… It wasn’t nothing. It couldn’t be.

You picked up the remote leaning on the edge of the bed as you flipped through the channels. Your head snapped over to the bathroom as you heard the shower come to life. Your eyes continued glued to the door for a moment, the documentary about baby otters suddenly forgotten. your mind kept drifting to Bob, standing just a few feet away, behind a thin door. Wet. Shirtless.

You sighed, shaking your head, forcing yourself to focus on the tv before you. You remembered you needed to pass some medicine in the worse cuts you’d gotten so you bussied yourself with that. 

The water shut off after a while. You tried very hard not to glance up every time a sound came from the bathroom, tried not to count how long it was taking him to come out.

Then the door creaked open.

And there he was.

Bob stepped out, steam curling around his tall frame, hair damp and tousled, cheeks still flushed from the heat of the shower. He wore nothing but a towel slung low around his waist, clinging to his hips in a way that felt... unfair.

Bob lifted his eyes from the floor, expecting to find you dressed and relaxing on the bed.

He was not expecting what he saw instead.

You were shirtless, hands resting on your ribs, mouth slightly parted as you looked up at him. He froze mid-step, caught off guard, eyes dragging across your bare skin before he could stop himself.

You stared too—eyes tracing the lines of his body, still damp, still only wrapped in a towel.

And then, almost simultaneously, you both seemed to snap out of it.

You scrambled to cover yourself, suddenly realizing how exposed you were. Bob’s eyes widened as color flooded his cheeks. He turned sharply, head ducking as he tried to look anywhere but at you.

“Oh—sorry,” he blurted out, gripping the towel tighter with one hand. “I, uh, forgot my clothes in my bag. Wasn’t expecting you to be…”

His voice trailed off again as his gaze accidentally flicked back to you. He immediately dropped his eyes to the floor.

“You’re fine,” you said quickly, though your throat felt bone-dry. Your heart was pounding way too loud in your ears.

In your hand, the medicine tube you'd been holding slipped slightly as you clenched your fingers too tightly around it. A glob of the ointment squirted out and plopped onto the floor. Bob made his way to his bag as you let out a soft curse moving to scoop it up with your finger. Behind you, you heard the faint rustle of fabric as he changed, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep your expression neutral.

“Do you need any?”

“Sorry—what?”

Bob turned to look at you, realizing you were carefully keeping your back to him as he changed.

“I’m dressed,” he said gently. “You can turn around.”

You glanced over your shoulder, your eyes immediately catching on Bob’s still very bare abs. He wasn’t wearing a shirt—but then, he never did when he slept. He ran hot, so he opted for fewer layers. You knew that from all the nights you'd shared a room with him. It had never been an issue before.

But now, the idea of lying next to him, just inches away from that warm skin, was going to be a problem.

“Are there any cuts that need ointment?” you asked, mostly to distract yourself.

“Oh, no, I…” He trailed off mid-sentence, looking a little sheepish. “I don’t get cut.”

You shook your head at yourself. Right. Of course he didn’t. He was incredibly powerful, despite having the most innocent face you’d ever seen. You were so used to looking out for him, you sometimes forgot he could bend metal with his bare hands.

“Sorry, I forgot.”

“You don’t need to apologize. It’s… nice. That you, you know—” he shrugged slightly “—that you care enough to ask.”

“Of course I do, Bob. You’re my teammate. I want to make sure you’re taken care of.”

Bob desperately needed you to stop talking to him like that. The warmth in your voice, the way you said his name—it was doing things to his head. Dangerous things. He gave you a small smile, his eyes drifting over your skin almost unconsciously.

You felt his gaze like a physical thing—soft, warm, reverent. You weren’t even sure he realized how he was looking at you, but it was doing things to you. Things it probably shouldn’t.

“You have one on your back.”

You blinked, needing a second to catch up.

“I do?”

You tried to twist around and look, searching for the injury.

“You probably can’t see it,” Bob said. “It’s like… right in the middle of your back.”

He opened his mouth, hesitated, then pushed himself to keep talking.

“I can get it for you. If you want.”

You couldn’t help the soft smile that tugged at your lips. Oh, this man is going to be the death of me.

“That’d be great, Bob. Thank you.”

You handed him the medicine and turned around. Bob squeezed a little onto his fingers—the cut wasn’t big, so he didn’t need much. Your skin tingled in anticipation as you waited for him to touch you. And when he finally did, you shivered. Partly because his hand was cool against your back and partly because it was him.

Bob’s fingers were gentle, almost too gentle, as he smoothed the ointment over the cut. The pressure was light, careful . His hand lingered a second longer than it needed to.

You felt it.

The pause. The heat.

Your breath caught for just a moment.

Then his fingertips brushed down slightly, like he was checking to make sure the ointment had spread properly. It wasn’t necessary—but he didn’t stop. And neither did you.

Your voice was quiet when you spoke. “You okay back there?”

Bob's hand stilled.

“Yeah,” he said after a beat, his voice softer than usual. “It’s just… hard to focus when you’re this close.”

That pulled your attention.

You turned your head, just slightly—enough to catch the faint flush spreading across his cheeks. His eyes were still on your back, but they kept flicking down, then away, like he couldn’t decide if he was allowed to look.

“We’ve shared rooms before,” you said gently, teasing. “We’ve slept five feet from each other for months.”

“Yeah,” he said, almost laughing. “But never like this.”

“I can take the floor.”

You’d been thinking about it for a while. You didn’t want to sleep on the floor—you wanted to sleep in the soft bed, preferably next to him. But you also wanted to be considerate.

You knew Bob had some issues with physical touch. He wasn’t opposed to it, but sometimes, when you caught him off guard, you’d see the way he flinched slightly—instinctively—before realizing you weren’t going to hurt him. Years of abuse would do that to a person.

Of course, you didn’t say any of this. You didn’t have to. Bob knew exactly why you’d offered. And still, he couldn’t help the warm, fuzzy feeling that filled his chest.

You were always doing stuff like this. Opting to help him out even when you had other things to do. You’d help with the dishes. You’d hang around with him in the living room, even though he was sure you could be using your time much better with training. Every time you could be near him, you chose to be. Bob tried to play it off as just your personality, but a small part of him knew better. 

You weren’t like that with everyone.

You were like that with him.

“I know you like your personal space,” you added softly.

Your words pulled him out of his thoughts. He realized how long he’d been silent, his hand still resting gently against your back. The ointment had been absorbed long ago, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Couldn’t bring himself to let go.

“I don’t mind,” he said, barely above a whisper. “If we share.”

You closed your eyes, your body relaxing instantly at his words.

You were glad he felt safe with you. You were really glad you wouldn’t be spending the night on the cold floor. You were glad that you’d sleep beside him tonight. It would probably be the last time you’d ever get a chance like this. So yes, maybe a bit selfishly, you were happy  you’d be sharing the bed.

You turned around to face Bob. He shifted his hand down, resting it against his stomach. You took in the look on his face, your eyes trailing from his eyes to his lips, to the flushed skin of his neck. And then you turned to look at the bed, choosing to focus on the task at hand.

“Okay. So how are we doing this?”

It had taken you a total of five minutes to figure everything out. Bob liked sleeping on the left, you liked sleeping on the right—so that was easy. You’d offered to make a pillow wall for Bob’s comfort. He’d told you it wasn’t necessary.

The two of you entered the bed, each settling on your respective side. You lay on your back, staring at the ceiling for a moment. Bob did the same.

A small yawn escaped your mouth before you could stop it. Bob turned his head to look at you, smiling at your sleepy face.

“I’ll get the light.”

You gave him a small smile before turning onto your side.

“Good night, Bob.”

“Good night.”

Darkness took over the room.

Falling asleep was easy for Bob. Keeping his mind clear, on the other hand, was not.

The dream had started simply. He could see your face, a small smile on it as you looked at him. And then it shifted. Your brows furrowed as you let out a soft groan. He was beneath you, hands resting on your hips as you moved. The sight was beautiful. He could live inside this dream.

Unfortunately, his body was beginning to betray him.

You felt him shift before you heard him. You turned your head to glance over your shoulder, eyes catching on Bob’s shaking frame. Your first thought was that he was having a nightmare. You knew it was a common occurrence, so you didn’t startle. You turned around, your hand reaching to touch his shoulder—when he let out a soft whimper of your name.

Your hand froze midair, breath catching.

He said it again. Clearer now.

Bob was dreaming. Dreaming of you. And by the sound of it, the dream was far from innocent.

You wanted desperately to keep listening—but you felt like a creep. So, instead, you gently tugged at him, trying to wake him up.

Bob was pulled out of his dream rather quickly.

He gasped, eyes flying open as he jerked upright. Disoriented, breath shallow, chest rising and falling. His eyes darted around the room until they landed on you—watching him with concern, still half-leaning over him.

“Hey,” you said softly, your hand brushing his arm. “You okay?”

Bob blinked a few times, swallowing hard. His face flushed deep red as memory rushed back in. The dream. Your voice. Your name on his lips.

Oh god.

“I—I’m sorry,” he muttered, sinking back onto the pillow and turning his face toward the wall. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Bob.”

You said his name firmly, gently, and his eyes hesitantly flicked back to you. You didn’t look disgusted. You didn’t look uncomfortable. If anything, you looked…curious. A little breathless.

“It’s okay,” you said. “You were dreaming.”

He nodded, ashamed.

“Was it… about me?”

Bob hesitated, then gave the smallest nod.

You paused. Your heart pounded. And then, barely above a whisper: “Was I… any good?”

That made him look at you. Really look at you. His lips parted, unsure what to say. You were smiling—soft and teasing, but your eyes were serious.

Bob swallowed hard. “Too good,” he said.

And suddenly, you were very aware of how close the two of you were. Of the warmth between you in the bed. Of everything unsaid that had built up over weeks, months. Your hand slid gently onto his chest. You hesitated for a second, eyes boring into Bobs. You could feel his chest rise and fall against your palm. You bit the inside of your cheek, realising that you were really about to do this. 

“Do you want to find out for real?”

Bob's breath caught.

You saw it in the way his lips parted, the way his fingers flexed slightly against the sheets, like he wasn’t sure whether to reach for you or ground himself.

He swallowed thickly. “Are you sure?”

His voice was low, hoarse, barely above a whisper—but it still managed to send a shiver down your spine. You leaned in just a little closer, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as you whispered:

“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t.”

That was all it took.

Bob surged forward, one hand cupping your cheek as his mouth met yours—tentative at first, like he was still afraid you might vanish. But when you kissed him back, firm and hungry, something in him snapped. His hand slid into your hair, the other arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you fully against him. You took the hint, climbing onto his waist as you settled on top of him. Bob whined into the kiss as you grazed his hard on. 

“You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?” you whispered against the corner of his mouth.

He gave a soft, embarrassed laugh and nodded, eyes fluttering closed as your hands moved across his stomach. “I—yeah. I didn’t think you’d ever…”

You cut him off with a firmer kiss this time, one hand slipping up to cradle the side of his neck, the other resting just above the waistband of his shorts. 

“You think too much Bob. Just focus on the feeling.”

Your palm slipped inside his shorts and he groaned, head raising up as he did. The action caused his neck to be on full display for you. You took it as an opportunity to kiss him there. Your hand found his dick, fingers moving over the head as you littered his neck with wet kisses. Then slowly you shifted your grip, allowing you to begin stroking him.  

Bob’s breath hitched—sharp and shaky—as your hand moved along his length. He whimpered, his hips bucking ever so slightly against your touch, chasing the friction. You could feel how desperate he already was, how quickly he was unraveling under your attention. It felt better than any drug. The sight of him panting slightly as his brows furrowed made you grind your hips down on him. 

“God—” he gasped, clutching at your waist, trying and failing to keep still beneath you.

The sound caused you to smile.

“Am i as good as you dreamed?”

Bob gaspsed, mind trying to form a coherent thought to answer you.

“So much better.”

“Oh yeah?”

He nodded before letting out a small moan. You shifted around, tugging his dick free from his shorts so you could stroke him better. The cold air on his dick made him shudder but your warm hand dulled the shift slightly. His hands were still on the bed beside him. Almost as if he was afraid to touch you without asking.

“You can touch me too, you know? If you want to.”

That was all he needed. Whatever resistance he had left crumbled at those words. His hands found your thighs, holding you tightly as if he still couldn’t quite believe this was real. You leaned down to kiss him again, slower this time, your hand never faltering in its rhythm. He moaned into your mouth, every sound he made going straight to your core. You rocked against him gently, your own arousal growing with every twitch of his hips beneath you.

“You feel so good,” he murmured against your lips, his voice shaky with awe.

You smiled, brushing your nose gently against his. “You do too,” you whispered. “You’re perfect, Bob.”

His eyes searched yours like he couldn’t quite believe this was real—like any second he expected to wake up. You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing just under his eye, grounding him.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” you admitted softly, heart fluttering as the words left your mouth. “Not just this—us.”

Bob swallowed hard, hands still resting on your thighs like he was afraid to grab too tight, afraid he’d break the moment. “Me too. God, me too.”

Your breath caught, and you leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, lingering—like you had all the time in the world. Your hand still stroked him gently, feeling every twitch, every little reaction as you poured everything into that kiss. Bob let out the softest whine, hips jerking involuntarily into your grip. 

“I wanna feel you. Please, I need—”

You shifted your hips, clothed cunt rubbing against your hand and stimulating his dick. 

“You want me to ride you?”

He nodded frantically, his voice nearly gone. 

“Yes. Yes, please.”

You leaned down again, kissing him slow and deep. Then you shifted your hips back, just enough to push your underwear to the side and line yourself up.You both gasped at the feeling, completely overwhelmed. He filled you perfectly, and you stayed still for a moment, letting the warmth of him settle deep inside you.

“You’re so beautiful,” Bob whispered, his thumbs brushing over your skin like he was memorizing you.

You clenched around him, hips begging to quicken their pace. Bob's hands slid up to your waist, holding on like he might float away otherwise. His hips bucked up to meet yours every time you moved. The desperation was growing inside both of you. You wanted to take it slow, wanted to show Bob just how much you felt for him. But the need for him was stronger than you could control. Bob didn’t seem to mind, blabbering beneath you as you sped up. Your hands found their way to his chest, using him as leverage to lift yourself up before dropping down again. Bob groaned, his hands tightening just slightly on your waist. 

“You’re all I ever think about,” he confessed, eyes squeezed shut like the truth hurt in the best way. “Not just like this. Always.”

The words hit you hard in the chest, and your movements stuttered for just a moment. You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, then his jaw. You were overwhelmed, full to the brim with him—his scent, his voice, his body.

“You’re perfect,” you whispered against his skin. “You’re everything.”

His arms wrapped around you, holding you to him as your bodies moved in tandem. You buried your face in his neck, moaning quietly as each thrust made your core tighten and your breath grow shorter.

You could feel it building—slow and sweet. Not just the orgasm, but everything. The connection, the weight of unspoken feelings, the years of dancing around this. You were both trembling under the intensity.

“I’m close,” you breathed, a little desperate now, your hips moving with more urgency.

“Me too,” Bob gasped, clutching you tighter. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

And you didn’t. You clung to each other like lifelines, chasing the high with trembling hands and whispered names, until it hit—hard and soft at the same time. A release that was more than physical. You came with a cry muffled against his neck, and Bob followed soon after, gasping your name like it was the only thing he knew.

When it was over, you stayed there, pressed together in the quiet, his hands still stroking your back gently, like he couldn’t bear to let go.

You stayed like that for a long time—foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling in the dark. Neither of you said anything at first, too wrapped up in the moment to break it with words. His hands never stopped moving, slow sweeps down your spine like he was trying to soothe you, ground you, or maybe himself.

Eventually, you stirred, gently lifting yourself off him with a soft hiss. Bob held your hips to steady you, eyes filled with concern.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, brushing his damp hair back from his forehead. 

“Yeah. Just sore.”

He gave you a tired, tender smile that melted something deep inside you. You shifted off to the side, reaching for the blanket to pull over both of you. Bob curled closer instinctively, one arm wrapping around your waist, the other tucking beneath his cheek like a sleepy child. You ran your fingers through his hair, watching his eyes flutter shut, a soft hum of contentment leaving his lips.

“I meant what I said,” he murmured against your shoulder

“Me too.”

He smiled against your skin. 

“Good. 'Cause I think I’m in love with you.”

Your heart skipped, breath catching. You pulled back just enough to look at him. 

“You are?”

He nodded, shy but sure. 

“Yeah. I think I’ve been in love with you since the first time I saw you.”

You smiled, your chest aching in the most beautiful way. “Then we’re in the same boat.”

Relief washed over his face like sunlight breaking through clouds. He leaned in to kiss you again—slow and deep, with nothing rushed or frenzied. Just warmth. Just certainty.

When you finally pulled apart, you tucked yourself into his side, your fingers laced with his beneath the sheets.

And in the quiet stillness of the room, wrapped in the warmth of each other, the weight of everything finally lifted. You both drifted to sleep.

Maybe you wouldn’t kill Valentina after all. Maybe you’d just tell her to book a room with one bed for you and Bob. For future reference. 

[keferon]

Chapter 2 of Blurr storyline >:D

“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”

“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head is all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”

Part one

Holy shit I actually managed to finish it…..Oh. My god.

Under the cut⤵️

Is it stupid to miss someone who doesn't even exist?

Probably yes, but hey, Swerve already has several degrees, might as well get another one. A degree in Stupidity or something. Who cares?

For the first few days after waking up from his coma, he feels like he's going crazy. Everybody has realistic dreams, right? The ones where you can scrutinize every angle, memorize every face and smell and sound. The ones that make you lie still for a while after waking up, grasping at every thing you can. Trying to memorize everyone you meet, imprint them in your head.

Because apart from your mind, they don't exist anywhere else. So that's your only way to keep them.

It never works. Obviously. Details slip away. Impressions fade. Just a couple days, and you won't be able to recall anything but the main events from memory.

Wait, hell, not days. Cycles.

His life is a weird, pathetic, fantastical circus. Earth term. Heh. There are no circuses on Cybertron, haha!

But Swerve remembers. And the word circus, and the smell of asphalt, and rains that were made of water not acid. Remembers the English language. Can speak it fluently, even if you wake him up in the middle of the night.

Remembers his work schedule and remembers which company makes the best details. And Tailgate with his bright blue uniform and Wheeljack with his endless experiments and Swindle with his expensive coat and of course...yeah, no, don't think of Blurr, don't think of Blurr, don't. Don't.

He'd heard about it. Read about it, too. Mechs waking up from comas and doing wild things. Some forgot how to speak at all, some gained a new skill, some lived a whole life while they slept.

Articles tell Swerve, don't worry, what you've experienced isn't unique. The doctor tells Swerve that the same thing has happened to others before you, it will be okay, it will pass.

Swerve isn't sure he wants it to pass.

He's been in a coma for who knows how long. The medic said it was caused by an internal trauma that decided to suddenly get worse. One minute he's recharging , the next he's gone. Internal injuries are insidious.

So it turns out. One day he just disappeared from the world because he was busy slowly dying in his room and no one noticed until a thief tried to sneak in. The only one who came to him was a Mech who wanted to steal his stuff. Huh.

That feels revolting. Swerve liked to think he had enough friends. Or at least enough good connections. Enough those who should have noticed his absence, right?

Apparently not. His shifts at work were reassigned, his contacts never texted him first, his...

His small persona wasn't important enough for anyone to notice his disappearance.

Would his human coworkers notice? Would Tailgate have noticed? Or Jazz? Swindle?

Jazz would have noticed, he was always surprisingly attentive when it came to his friends. And he was friends with just about everybody.

Swindle would probably get upset about the money he'd lost.

It's amazing how much his brain-- wait, no, his processor. How much his processor could create to entertain him. It's a more elaborate world than the most complex series Swerve has ever known. And that scrap had forty-six seasons and fifteen encyclopedias!

People, Earth, a bunch of new languages and rules and all for the sake of the end being like, OOPS! ...it was all a dream. Hilarious. Worst plot twist ever. Swerve hates it when stories go in this direction even more than when they kill off their characters.

In his humble opinion, death is better than the revelation that none of the experiences made sense or had any value. In terms of writing scripts obviously. Haha.

He's busy roaming haphazardly through his own memory. He's looking, comparing, trying to find inconsistencies or things that don't make sense. All the stuff that usually gives away the fact that what happened was a dream.

Most of his memories are occupied by--No. Frag.

Don't think about Blurr, don't think about Blurr, don't think..

He's thinking about Blurr. A lot.

Blurr occupies a surprisingly important role in his comatose dreams.

In the time he spent just looking at him, you could hand-build an entire Mech. Maybe even three. Swerve remembers picking up every bit of merch he could reach with his paycheck. Watching hundreds of videos and buying every new themed drink even if it was a flavor he didn't like.

Then spent a surprising amount of time resenting Blurr for not living up to his fantasies.

Blurr's behavior hadn't helped either, of course, but now, looking back at the past himself Swerve thinks that.. Oh wow. You weren't just annoyed at him. You blamed him for ruining your beautiful fantasy. You were having so much fun entertaining yourself with thoughts of this marvelous image, and he came along and corrupted it. Poisoned the well you drank joy from.

But that's not quite true, Swerve thinks.

Blurr was more complicated than that. But exactly how, he'll never know. All he has are his memories, and those memories are cut short at the most interesting point.

Swerve knows this plot twist. The asshole character that no one loves at the last second turns out to not be what everyone thought, but it's too late.

Oh no, he's not an evil jerk, he's actually traumatized. Oh no, he wasn't bad, he was actually secretly helping everyone. You thought he was awful? Well now you're going to feel awful reading fanfics.

Serevus Spayne didn't actually betray the main character's dad, no no, he was in love with him! Bam. Drama.

Swerve isn't a big fan of this stuff. He likes his characters developed properly. But he can't deny the appeal of a character leaving behind a bunch of questions you thought you knew the answer to.

Uggh.

The doctor was wrong. These thoughts don't go away. These memories don't dull.

Swerve just boils in them, constantly getting stuck in his own head. Sometimes he puts English words into his speech and everyone looks at him strangely. Sometimes he reflexively says some inside joke and no one gets it and he's left standing there with an awkward smile. Because. Guys, you don't understand, if my coworkers were here they'd think it's hilarious. I promise, in my fantasy world, it's funny.

When he gets a job on one of the Autobot ships, he accepts it thinking it might be a good distraction from his thoughts.

When he happens to see Prowl with a tiny human on his shoulder in the corridor of that ship, he thinks he's lost his mind.

The whole thing. The whole load-bearing structure on which his picture of the world has been held suddenly gives a lurch. Living your life in a super realistic dream is wild, but meeting a character from your dream in real life??

Freaking cursed.

Jazz looks puzzled by his reaction, but all Swerve can think about are two things.

One, if Jazz is here, does that mean everything else was real, too???

Two - holy shit, Jazz is tiny.

It never occurred to him. But he didn't really know what size humans were. Well, sure, he could measure it in numbers. But he was among humans himself. And about the same size. He was generally even shorter than most of them.

If Jazz is so small, he can't imagine how tiny Tailgate would be. Or--

He can feel his spark freeze. In fact, he can almost hear the sound of a string breaking in his processor. Does that mean Blurr is real too? Real and just as tiny and currently dead? Because Swerve was there but was too convinced it was all just a dream to help?

He's going to get sick.

He needs to talk to Jazz right now.

____________

Swerve taps his fingers nervously on the countertop. Come on. You're good at talking. Talking is your greatest skill. All you have to do is tell someone else about your comatose hallucinations and hope they don't think you're crazy.

They're sitting at a table at the bar. More specifically Swerve and Prowl are sitting at the table, and Jazz is sitting right on the table. (God he's so small).

“So uh. I got injured a while back and...uh...well, it got worse, turned out important systems were affected and I kind of. I was in a coma. For a really long time.”

Jazz frowns

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

He speaks in a mildly wonky Common, Swerve notes to himself. He waves his servo a little too cheerfully in response.

“'Ay it's no big deal really. I saw a whole other world while I was asleep and like. See, I thought it was just my fantasies, but it seemed very real and...”

Swerve mentally crosses his fingers.

“And it was about this planet called Earth and about people who were building their own inanimate huge robots to fight huge aliens and their boss wanted to launch Mechs into space, so he picked the best of the pilots named Jazz and sent him on this test mission and...”

Jazz looks at him with huge eyes before switching to English in surprise.

“Mech, what the hell?”

“...And we lost him...” finishes Swerve with a sad smile.

Before thinking for a bit, and adding.

“I'm going to show you a trick I can do.”

And then projects his holoform onto the table in front of him.

This. It's weird. Not in a way that would tilt it in the direction of unnatural. More like walking around in his comfy indoor pajamas right in the middle of the street. Being human is familiar to him, but being human amongst huge Cybertronians? Strange. And a little creepy.

Prowl looks confused.

Jazz looks absolutely frantic.

“SWERVE????”

Swerve doesn't even manage to respond, only to smile in relief before Jazz rakes him into his arms. In his holoform, Jazz feels right again. He's taller than Swerve and oh boy, he's alive and unharmed. To think everyone thought he was dead, staying up nights trying to find what was left of him, and he was on the other side of the universe the whole time?

Swerve chuckles into Jazz's shoulder. Then picks him up and spins him around a couple times just because he needs something to get his energy out. Man, it's nice to hug people. Warm and soft, eight out of ten.

Jazz pulls away but still stays standing very close. Swerve can literally see the happy stars in his eyes.

“Dude, I'm not complaining but what...how???? You just kinda..."

Swerve laughs and twitches his eyebrows playfully.

“I still speak English, you don't have to torture yourself with Common.”

“Oh thank fuck.” Jazz throws his hands up dramatically “you're my favorite person right now.”

There is a polite click of the vocalizer resetting above their heads.

“I” Prowl says “very glad you two are happy but I'd like some explanation”

Swerve presses his head into his shoulders guiltily. Prowl has the unique ability to always sound like you've done something wrong in front of him.

Although Jazz doesn't seem to feel the same way?

“Short version - I sleepwalked my holoform to another planet.”

He pauses dramatically.

“The long version is...”

Jazz raises his hand

“What's a holoform?”

Swerve sighs.

“It's a holographic avatar that I can project using a holomatter generator. Sort of like a remote controlled game character.”

Jazz whistles impressed. And then immediately turns back to Prowl

“Have you been able to do that all this time too?“

Prowl hums

“I can create an avatar, but it takes a lot of practice to make it at least believable. And to fully perceive the world through it takes even more. It's a whole new technology. What Swerve does is essentially an art form. Sophisticated and impressively detailed may I add.”

Swerve shrugs shyly. He's still using the holoform to stand on the table next to Jazz. Looking up to speak to Prowl isn't exactly comfortable, but Jazz definitely looks like he's been missing the human presence. Swerve isn't human, but he might as well be.

“Thank you. Yes! Uh. Anyway, it seems while I was in a coma my processor projected my avatar onto Earth and I...let's just say I lived there for a while.”

Jazz laughs

“Dude. So you're telling me you were basically sleepwalking the whole time?”

“ I was.”

Prowl frowns.

“But the range limit of the holomatter generator is only four hundred miles...”

“.... I had a lot of practice...”

Jazz claps his hands.

“You learned a whole other language! Got an ID!. You had a job!!!”

“I got carried away,” Swerve admits.

Jazz scratches the back of his head, still looking very amused

“How many degrees did you get? Haha wait no, I have a better question, did you pass your driver's license?”

“Two. And I failed my driver's exam.”

“Dude you are literally a car without a driver's license!” collapses Jazz on the table with laughter.

Swerve blows the hair out of his face

“Says you who retook the physical several times. You couldn't pass the "being human" exam.”

Jazz just wheezes incoherently in response. Prowl looks alarmed.

“Don't worry, that's him getting excited. So...where have I been...”

Swerve nervously shoves his hands into his pockets

“...Do either of you two know where Earth is?”

Prowl twitches his door wings

“No. Since Jazz was teleported we don't have much clues.”

Swerve grimaces. Scrap. Of course nothing's going to be that easy. He's also been, like,....teleported.

He stands there for a couple minutes and just feels fifteen different emotions rise up in his head at once. A crooked, unsteady smile creeps across his face.

He's thinking.

Oh hell, yeah! I knew it wasn't a dream!

Then he remembers the mess he left behind.

Oh, no, it wasn't a dream.

Jazz puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Swer... Swerve? Dude, are you okay?”

“Ah frag..” Swerve says weakly ”it wasn't a dream.”

Jazz looks...puzzled.

“Is that bad?”

Swerve remembers his friends. Remembers the Mecha program. Remembers fire and smoke and screams and rumbling and crackling flames. Ashes flying through the air and the smell of burnt wires. He remembers blood and debris and...

“It's...complicated.”

This wasn't just a stupid plot twist he'd dreamed up because he'd watched too many shows. This wasn't a hallucination or a disembodied fantasy that just happened to linger in his head. This was real. His friends exist out there somewhere. His work and his collections and his little apartment...

And Blurr. Was real. Or still is? Swerve doesn't know. Blurr wasn't a product of his imagination. He was real and what he did was real and Swerve left him there alone, bleeding and trapped in rubble and tiny and...

Hahahahah oh fUCK.

He doesn't like this plot. It's too much. Too much to handle, too complicated, too ambiguous.

It's also probably too late.

But he can't leave it like this, right? Blurr went into the damn burning building just because of the possibility that there might be someone alive in there.

And Swerve doesn't even have to go through the flames. He has to look. He has to try at least.

Jazz glares at him with a worried look on his face

“ That expression you have...”

Swerve puts the smile back on his face.

“I need to get to Earth.”

___________________

Swerve is not an idiot.

Or maybe more accurately an idiot, but with several degrees.

He's well aware that finding Earth in space with only a description of it is impossible. Which leaves him with two options.

Ask the Quintessons. Or look for it himself.

The first sounds like death. The second like coma. Swerve has exquisite enough taste to know which is better.

He just needs to do some preliminary reserch.....

Jazz, now back inside his Mech looks doubtful.

“You're not going to die suddenly and for no reason, are you?”

Swerve laughs.

“Pfffff what, no of course not, would I kill myself hah. No no, look I'll just put myself in stasis for a bit. Send myself to Earth. And try to figure out where it is from there. Get the coordinates. If I'm lucky, I can see what Space Bridge the local Quintessons use. All you'll have to do is wake me up after a while.”

“It's not harmful?”

Swerve makes an uncertain gesture with his hand...servo.

“If I have enough fuel. And an additional connection to an external generator.”

Jazz tilts his head

“ Why are you so eager to get to Earth? Don't get me wrong, I miss it too and want to go back, but.”

Swerve bites his knuckles.

“ I have some unfinished business?”

“Pshhhh you sound like a ghost.”

Swerve only laughs in response.

_______________

Concentration is tricky.

Swerve tries to think about Earth. And not to think about the fact that he doesn't know where it is. If he's already been there once, he might as well go there again yes? In theory? Perhaps?

Except for the possibility that his sleepwalking just takes him to random planets. That would be very inconvenient. It would be a whole new level of lost

Shit. No. Earth. Think Earth.

What's he even gonna do when he gets there? How far away is it? Swerve is very talented with his holomatter generator, but if it's really far away... maybe he should reset some settings.

He mentally starts going through his options. Does he need tangibility? Probably not. Come to think of it, it would only make him more vulnerable and take a lot of energy. Yeah, the tangibility has to go. What else? Touch, too. Sight and hearing should stay, that's not even a question, but colors and textures are not really necessary.

The amount of detail and picture quality can be reduced as well. His holoform will become colorless and grainy and will probably ripple with static, but he'll survive it.

After he finishes making changes to his holoform he thinks about his old stuff left in his house. Then about the posters. Then reminds himself that he needs to focus on the goal or he'll never find Blurr and...oh FUCK his phone! Where was his phone when he disappeared? Was it found?? There were so many personal things on that phone, he's hoping the phone was burned under the rubble. Either that or the arriving investigators will find his browser history and he'll go into another coma from pure embarrassment.

He blinks dazedly when he realizes he has loads of rocks in front of his eyes. Oh..Did he screw up? Did he end up on the wrong planet? Is it a cave or--

Then he notices the odd shape of the “rocks” and. Oh, no. It's not a cave. It's charred concrete debris.

This is the place where he was last.

He hastily looks around. Anxiety creeps up the back of his neck, makes him feel like something slippery and cold is crawling over his skin. There is nothing but ruins all around.

Blurr is not here. The place where his Mech was lying is empty.

Which means he was at least found and dragged out. Dead or alive.

Swerve's bites his knuckles. Okay.

All right.

He's got things to do.

_______________

He's trying to stay out of sight. Which isn't hard, considering he's just a hologram. At first, he just sneaks around in the quiet areas. Then proceeds to do a facepalm and start teleporting. Think, Swerve. Did you read all those comic books for nothing? Superheroes who couldn't really use their superpowers creatively always annoyed him. And he does, in fact, have a superpower. Gotta get creative, right?

He stops and looks at himself again. His holoform is going static and is a dull white color. He thinks for a bit, and then shrinks himself. Thinks some more, and makes himself almost transparent. There's no way he could pass as a normal human right now, so he'd better just do his best to avoid being seen by anyone.

He looks around thoughtfully. Hmm. Even if he's going to be absolutely tiny, he needs to make sure no one sees him, otherwise the whole base will think the Quintessons are now spying on them through holograms or something.

Breaking the rules feels...it's exciting.

All his ..human life here he hadn't thought about it, but if he threw away the rules he was used to about what people could or couldn't do...

He looks up in a sudden rush of sly genius. All people look under their feet when they walk, but how many look up? And how many of them notice the barely visible tiny holoform hiding just behind the blinding lamps?

The answer is probably none.

Swerve projects himself onto the ceiling and mentally pats himself on the shoulder for his impressive intellectual accomplishments. A creativity degree should definitely be a thing.

A degree in spying on the Quintessons' ships wouldn't hurt him either.

Fortunately sneaking onto their ship turns out not to be that difficult. Swerve makes himself absurdly tiny and hides in the darkest corners that no one would ever think to look into. Why hasn't anyone thought of using holoforms for spying before? Could he be the first to think of it? He doesn't know, but he mentally decides to patent the idea.

Finding the Space Bridge is surprisingly easy. The local Quintesson fleet is clearly used to being the dominant force in space. And that's generally logical. Even if humanity collects a mountain of money from somewhere to throw a dozen Mechs into space - there will be thousands of monsters waiting for them. In such a situation, you don't have to hide, the guards are enough.

Well done, well done, don't hide, Swerve thinks, copying the coordinates and address of the space bridge to himself. You have absolutely nothing to fear here, he thinks, so stay where you are and don't move. Please and thank you.

Once the coordinates are obtained, he... has some freedom to explore. And he uses it for probably the most boring-sounding thing in the world. He returns to his usual workplace.

It’s simple. As damning as the Mecha program was, Swerve loved his job in it. He loved his position in the assembly shop. And he missed his friends.

He quickly teleports through several rooms, continuing to hide close to the lamps. Tailgate is here. Alive and unharmed. Wheeljack is too, though his face has some scars added to it. It's great to see them again, even if he can't talk to them right now. No one will probably react well to a grainy unexplainable hologram. He's just glad to know they're okay and honestly, the last thing he needs is paranoid Onslaught installing extra signal jammers.

It takes time to find Blurr. Partly because Swerve is terrified of what he might find if he started looking. So he goes to check the death lists first, and only after flipping through and re-reading them three times does he finally exhale in relief.

Blurr's name isn't there.

So his smug, shiny ass must be around here somewhere.

He checks the hangar. Flips through the Mech launch logs and feels an uncomfortable knot begin to form in his chest. Blurr's Mech has never been repaired or launched even once since the incident. Its plating has been replaced with new, well polished, and put in a prominent place where anyone who wants to can take a picture of it. But all the internal systems are destroyed. This machine hasn't been used for anything other than being a beautiful exhibit.

That's...something's wrong.

He checks offices and schedules as well as eavesdropping on a few conversations and ends up secretly following Swindle, who is arguing loudly with someone on the phone. He says something about deals and how he doesn't need anyone meddling in his business. Then he talks about how he's got everything under control and the person on the phone is “a dumbass who's making drama out of nothing” and that “he doesn't need anyone's handouts". Then he sighs and says, “you know how celebs are. Dumb and dramatic. You can't take their words literally.”

Then drops the call and for a couple seconds looks like he's just had a large bill taken right out of his hand. Curses again, but in a quieter voice. Leafs through his contacts and stops at the one signed 'free ice'.

“Blurr? Where are you? Wha...ah, no wait. No, the advertising agency called. No, liste...Can you shut up for one second?Where are you?

Uh-huh....... Uh-huh.Okay.

Give me half an hour...okay, yeah.”

This is it, Swerve thinks.

He shrinks himself further and teleports under the collar of Swindle's coat.

He wants to take a look. Just. Just a peek. Make sure everything's all right. Then he can go about his original mission in peace. He watches Swindle get in his car and drive off somewhere. Swerve doesn't recognize this part of town. The houses here are much nicer than where he lived. The streets are cleaner.

He tucks himself further under the coat collar. He's not going to be a stalker or anything, but he's worried and he doesn't have time to wait for Blurr himself to show up for work. Just one little look and that's it.

Swindle's car stops outside a beautiful, shiny hospital. Swerve nervously tries to bite his knuckles, but remembers he's disabled touch in his holoform. Shit? Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shi

Blurr looks like a mangled corpse.

Okay, not really. His left side that faces the door to the hospital room looks like a mangled corpse and that's the first thing that catches Swerve's eye when he's inside.

Blurr is pale and thin and his hands are covered in bandages. The left side of his face has been turned into an absolute ugly nightmare. A piece of his ear is missing. In the place of the left eye is a creepy empty hole.

Suddenly Swerve realizes why Blurr didn't show up for work. You can't even show him to his coworkers like that, not just to the public.

Blurr turns his head and the spell breaks. His lips stretch into a cocky smile.

“'Got bored without me Swindle?”

Swindle doesn't show the slightest emotion at the gruesome sight. He casually pulls a chair over to the hospital bed and sits down.

“Shockwave is trying to sneak a new project into the program. And he's slowly swaying investors to his side, using you as an excuse. Tells everyone you're a poor martyr he can save if only he's given the green light from above.”

Blurr wrinkles his nose.

“Not that he's wrong. The doctors say I need to pick a new career because with this...” he jerks his head to the left implying his damaged half, ” neither racing nor piloting is an option for me anymore. I'm out of your project.”

Then he stops talking for a few seconds and raises an eyebrow curiously.

“You wouldn't have come here in person just to say that. Why are you really here?”

Swindle adjusts his glasses

“Have I ever told you why I made the contract with you?”

“Because you like money” Blurr says without hesitation.

Swindle lets out a quiet chuckle.

“Fair point. But money wasn't my only priority.”

He pauses for a second. Gets up. Draws the curtains in the room. Checks to make sure no one is outside the door.

Goes back to his seat.

“You didn't see what the Mecha project was like before. Brutality and absolute disregard for human rights multiplied by a thousand. People were desperate and no one cared to maintain any decency.”

He raises his hand when Blurr rushes to say something.

“No no, listen to me. If you think things are bad now, you're right. But it used to be much. Much, much worse.”

Swindle sighs and adjusts his glasses again

“Vortex was taken as a boy. He wasn't even out of high school when they shoved him into the lab. Me and Onslaught were pulled right out of the college exams. The others were no better, although they were usually a little older. My point is that it was allowed. It's what the superiors could do and no one told them no.”

Blurr tilts his head and gets a little all turned around to see Swindle better with his right eye.

“But you... found a way to change that, didn't you?

Swindle rubs the bridge of his nose

“I have no power over my own superiors. But Onslaught and I have come up with a plan. Look. I'll put it in simple terms for you. Above me is my boss, and above him is another boss, and so on but at the very end of that chain are people from the government. The investors. So we figured out a way to cut through the chain of command and influence them directly. Make them worry about us. It's a kind of social shield. Onslaught is a genius.”

Blurr blinks.

“Why are you telling me all this.”

Swindle takes off his hat and just. Crumples it in his hands. The back of his head shows numerous scars and the glint of tiny metal implants barely visible behind his hair.

“You're that shield right now, Blurr. You can't leave.”

Blurr's eye widens

“Is that why you insisted on ‘befriending’ me with all those bullshitters?”

“I needed to make sure that in their minds we weren't just a military unit. To keep them thinking that we're as human as they are. So I gave Project Mecha a face.” He tugs on the hat again, “Your face.”

Blurr runs his fingers through his hair

“Shockwave can't do whatever he wants cause...because of me his efforts would risk going public and people wouldn't like it and it would ruin the reputation of our investors-and-they'd-cut-off-his-funding.”

Swindle puts his hat back on.

“Exactly.’ That's why he's being so persistent right now. He knows you're vulnerable and he wants to capitalize on the opportunity. Make you part of his new project and tell the world about it. Make publicity his weapon, too.”

The lamp above them flickers faintly. Blurr takes a breath. Long and tired and exhausted and. a bit doomed.

Swindle puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Please. Don't leave. At least not now. And don't let Shockwave get to you. That would open the way for him to get to the rest of the pilots you represent.”

They just. Sit in silence for a while. Blurr quickly taps a finger on his knee. A rapid tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

Swindle moves his hand away and gets up from his chair.

“There's a press conference coming up. I need you to be there. I've told everyone who needs to know that the problem is exaggerated and you're fine but they need to see you.”

Blurr smiles sourly.

“My lawyer is going to charge you such a handsome sum for that stunt.”

Swindle laughs, but his cardboard advertising smile doesn't reach his eyes.

“We’ll see about that. Seriously though. I need you there.”

Blurr bites his lip.

“I..don’t know...”

Swerve...doesn't know what to think of that.

Blurr shows up for the press conference. Late, but he makes it. Just as Shockwave is presenting his new project in his amazingly well-pitched voice. Blurr swings the door open and waltzes lazily inside, skillfully pretending not to notice the many cameras and eyes instantly directed at him.

Swerve, whose memory is still fresh thinks for a second that no, no this can't be the same person. Past Blurr looked like a wreck. Past Blurr was tense and tired and hunched over. Present Blurr couldn't look more alive. His shoulders are squared proudly, there's that cheerful springiness and grace in his stride. He moves with ease and confidence. Smoothly.

The left side of his face is neatly covered with fresh white bandages. Carefully, without leaving the even the slightest gap through which his injury could be seen. His hands are hidden under a fancy jacket. He smiles wide and bright and squints playfully toward the table.

The very embodiment of nonchalance. The few pilots sitting in the audience roll their eyes.

Swindle breathes out a barely perceptible sigh of relief. Swerve, once again using Swindle's collar as a tactical cover, can't help but let out a silent triumphant laugh. Maybe slightly more nervous than he is supposed to be.

Blurr sends Swindle a sly, sharp smile and even knowing it wasn't meant for him, Swerve feels his cheeks heat up.

Ah, damn it.

Swerve breaks the rules. He tells himself that peeking is fraught with consequences when it comes to military organizations, but he can't stop himself from being curious. And from worry, too.

And now that he knows where to look, he sees things he'd rather not see.

Blurr ... is crumbling.

Swerve doesn't know all the details and consequences, but that incident did leave a mark.

But every time Swindle calls him and says “I need you at some place in two hours” he gets up and assembles himself into a human being. Like a goddamn puzzle. Tapes and covers the burned half of his face. Covers up the bruises and hides the stitches. Fixes his hair and sets off on shaky legs to pretend he's fine.

He smiles so bright and carefree, laughs so sweet and beautiful that no one would ever think that even standing up sometimes hurts.

And continues to act like a jerk of course.

The only difference is that this time Swerve mentally gives him the presumption of innocence before he starts judging.

Blurr does a lot of things that seem rude. He also does a lot of things that are actually rude and figuring them out without resorting to alien superpowers would be nearly impossible.

When the pilots see Blurr sitting right on the table while negotiating with investors, they roll their eyes and make comments about his terrible manners. Or when he stops showing up for even the most basic, rudimentary training.

Or when he develops that stupid habit of leaning his elbows on people standing next to him.

It's the model behavior of a rich, spoiled brat.

It's also an inconspicuous way to stay upright.

Employees say “that dumbass has never heard of personal space.”

Investors say, “I think he likes me.”

Blurr leans on Swindle's shoulder and through a charming smile says “Don't move or I'm gonna fall.”

Swindle also keeping up the smile discreetly holds him back, pretending it's a friendly half hug.

Swerve feels like yelling at both of them, but he's not sure what for exactly. For one thing, Blurr in his condition is very VERY VERY contraindicated to even get out of bed, let alone participate in social activities.

On the other hand, without Blurr, everything is going down the pit.

Without Blurr, all the government sees are dry reports and spreadsheets. Without him, all the high command has is numbers and a sense of impunity. Swerve is sickened by how easily people tend to forget that numbers represent other people.

Most pilots are able to draw a parallel between deteriorating working conditions and Blurr's sudden fondness for staying home instead of working. But they think the rich jerk got scared and ran away. Considering the way Blurr has always behaved at work - Swerve can't even judge them too much for it. They assume Shockwave getting more freedom is the cause of Blurr's absence, not the result.

Blurr's influence only becomes noticeable when it slowly starts to fade away. It's like switching from expensive tea to a cheaper one. The awful flavor only becomes noticeable in contrast.

Blurr doesn't lead the development of new technologies or go out to fight in the field. He doesn't make plans and reports, he doesn't participate in drills, he doesn't cover anyone's back in battle.

But he's the one who puts his hand on the government's shoulders when they're about to sign the next piece of paper. He's the one they have to look in the eye before they have a pen in their hands and a document authorizing Shockwave to stick more needles in people's brains.

It makes a difference. Small one. But still.

It turns a disembodied imaginary “combat units” into a tangible person.

From “do you want to accelerate the combat training of new soldiers” to “are you willing to tell the living, breathing guy standing in front of you that shoving poison under his skin is an idea you approve of.”

More importantly (And Swerve actually admires Swindle for this) Will you be able to explain anything to your families later on, when this same guy is on TV all over the country saying that's what you did to him?

There have been two fronts here all this time, Swerve realizes.

While the pilots were protecting people from monsters wearing teeth and armor, Blurr was protecting the pilots themselves from monsters wearing ties and lab coats.

After another conference, Shockwave stops Blurr in the hallway.

“Good show.”

Blurr laughs. Soundly and proudly.

“Thanks darling~ Sorry I interrupted you. Your speech sounded like something important, but I don't really know much about nerd stuff.”

Swerve, hiding on the ceiling again, snorts.

Shockwave doesn't move. Doesn't give any indication at all if he's offended or upset or whatever.

“It must have been hard getting here with your injuries.”

Blurr shrugs and lazily turns his head around distracted.

“It's just a few bruises here and there. Not the end of the world.”

Shockwave nods slowly. His voice and posture and all, Swerve thinks, looking very uncomfortable.

“Of course it isn't. But hardly good for your career.”

Blurr freezes.

No, Swerve thinks. Shit. No, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't

“Your brilliant achievements have always been a source of admiration to me” continues Shockwave “it would be a pity to lose them.”

Blurr makes an indifferent face and tucks his hands into his pockets.

“Like I said. Not the end of the world.”

Swerve imagines choking Shockwave. Dropping a lamp on his head. Maybe jumping on top of him himself. Shut up, he thinks. Shut up, shut up, stop fucking talking.

Shockwave with a nice, slow gesture pulls out a notebook from somewhere and flips a couple pages.

“Multiple burns, cracked ribs, poisoning from carbon monoxide and combustion products of toxic chemicals...”

Blurr visibly shivers and looks away.

“...loss of vision on one side...” Shockwave continues reading, ”and partial hearing loss. Finally, the impact of neural link malfunctions. And this, if I'm not mistaken, is on top of the already existing memory problems?”

Shockwave takes a step closer. Not fast enough to make it look threatening, but enough to hover.

“It may not be the end of the world, but it is the end of you.”

He writes a set of numbers on the same page, tears it off, and hands it to Blurr.

“You are broken. I can fix you.”

Blurr frowns, but takes the piece of paper.

“That fixing would involve giving you consent to mess around with my head, wouldn't it? It's brave of you to think I'd go for that.”

Shockwave tucks the notepad into his pocket.

“I can assure you, neither I nor anyone else is interested in your brain. I just want to give you back what you're truly valued for.”

Blurr flinches.

“I don't need your help.”

“ If you say so,” Shockwave agrees easily. Nods, slowly and smoothly. Then starts to walk away “But you do need your fame.”

...

“By the way, you might want to wipe the blood off.”

Blurr waits until Shockwave's back disappears around the corner, then quickly pulls a tissue from his pocket and brings it up to his nose.

____________________________

Swerve wakes up looking up at the ceiling of his room. The high, metal ceiling, of a metal room on a metal spaceship.

Holy shit...

Jazz pokes him gently on the forearm

“Are you alive? You've been gone for like quite a while...Did it work?”

“Hey Jazz” frowns Swerve “what do you know about Blurr?”

Jazz laughs

“What are you fanboying over him again? Still??? Dude's smug and arrogant. Good boss though. I was hired to perform at his parties before I became a pilot.”

Swerve sits up and rubs the back of his head.

“Ah...”

“So it worked?”

“Wha...ah! Yes! Yes, it worked! I managed to get the number and codes from the space bridge the Quints used on you. We just need to find another space bridge and we'll have a pretty much direct route to Earth...well. Or rather, to the Quint ship that's located near Earth. You get the idea.”

Jazz rubs his hands together happily.

“I'll take it.”

Swerve jumps to the floor and heads to grab an energon cube. Man, these holoform exercises are burning energy like crazy.

He stares at his metal hands like an idiot for a couple minutes. Just...Contemplates how non-human they are.

He has eight fingers again instead of the human ten. Huh.

Prowl downloads the information he's gotten and immediately runs off to plan a route to the nearest working space bridge and for a while Swerve is just.

Left to himself.

He tries not to think about Blurr. What would he even say to him? Hey, look, I'm sorry I accidentally set you up, see, I'm actually an alien who was sleepwalking and thought you were fictional, surely this won't affect our non-existent strictly professional working relationship? Nah, screw that. If he's going to sound crazy, he needs to at least come up with a good presentation for his insanity.

....

Is it weird to think humans are beautiful if you're not human? If you're kind of human, but only in your soul and only half human?

He looks at Jazz and Prowl.

“You two get along really well.”

Jazz chuckles, sitting on Prowl's shoulder.

“Right now, yes. But we got on each other's nerves quite a bit when we first met.”

Swerve looks up at Jazz's chattering legs from his height and thinks. This is working somehow.

On the other hand, Jazz is the exception rather than the rule. He's friendly with everyone, he's easy to get along with, he's the soul of any company and most importantly, he was a little too much into robots before he discovered they could be alive. If anyone could find common ground with the Cybertronians, it would definitely be Jazz.

_____________________

”Are you a ghost?”

Swerve shrieks in fear and gets covered in static. He hadn't planned on talking. He hadn't planned on being noticed at all. Blurr was supposed to be asleep! And Swerve just wanted to close the curtains and leave, because there's some noisy party going on outside and bright illuminations are very bad for a patient already suffering from neural connection withdrawal.

He freezes in place like that dude from Jurassic Park. Like if he's still enough, he won't be noticed. Oh, or was that from another movie?

“I'm just uh” he awkwardly reaches up and closes the curtains “Lights. Bad for...you...now.”

Blurr chuckles. It sounds suspiciously joyful. His whole posture and facial expression. He looks very relaxed for someone who had a ghost materialize into the room out of thin air.

Swerve traces the line of the IV with his gaze. Oops, that looks like painkillers.

“Yes I am. Uh. A ghost watching the curtains. And now the curtains are fine, so I guess I'd better go?”

Blurr squints amusedly.

“You can walk through walls?”

“Uh, I can teleport into the next room?”

He backs up his words by making himself disappear and reappear in another corner of the room.

“Cool!” says Blurr cheerfully.

Swerve is involuntarily infected by his mood and makes a couple dramatic bows as if he were some kind of magician.

“ Show me more?”

“Hehehe okay eh” Swerve spreads his arms like he's presenting something and then makes himself the size of a soda bottle and teleports to the edge of Blurr's bed “Ta daaaa~”

“Wooooo look at you, you're like an action figure~”

Blurr immediately makes an attempt to touch him, but fails to reach and drops his hand back on the blanket.

Swerve chuckles and steps closer. It's funny to see the usually incredibly agile Blurr struggling with something so simple and ridiculous.

“They really drugged you huh?”

“It's not the drugs” snorts Blurr ”...it's my eye.”

He raises his hand once more and hesitantly pulls it towards Swerve until it bumps into his hair

“... depths Per…percen.. ah, shit. I can't tell how far away things are.”

Swerve just. Lets Blurr fidget at himself, while starting to feel really bad at the same time.

"If you can't tell how far things are, how are you going to drive?

Race???”

He must have a plan right? Something? Let’s-prove-Shockwave-wrong tactic???

Blurr drops his hands back on the blanket

“I won't.”

He freezes when the all too close fireworks rumble outside the window. Then points to his head.

“With this. I can't drive, I can barely walk at all, and I look like horror movie material. Pathetic heeh.”

Swerve sits down quietly cross-legged on the blanket.

“Well...at least you're alive....”

Blurr shakes his head.

“If I had died, it would have been epic. You know? Dharm...dramatic! It would be big news and everyone would be talking about what a hero I was or...or something...”

“...”

“Swindle would be so angry, but he'd figure out a way to make money out of it. He'd make a commercial about how people should be heroes. I'd be remn..remembered for being cool and brave and stuff.”

Fireworks can be heard from the street again. Swerve notices that there is a thin slit between the closed curtains through which a slim, flickering strip of multicolored light streams into the room.

Blurr frowns and leans back against the pillow, looking up at the ceiling.

“I've turned into a boring wreck. My records will be beaten, my career forgotten , and all the guys from work will remember me as a brat. In a--in a--in a way, it's worse than death. Shockwave's right.”

Swerve isn't sure what exactly would be an acceptable gesture of comfort, so he kind of just. Places his hand on the blanket covering Blurr's lap.

“Hey, don't say that. I think what you're doing is great.”

“Liar” smiles Blurr crookedly ”You hated me. I saw your posters collection.”

Oh shit. The ones he ripped off the walls and destroyed in a fit of fan frustration? He didn't even hide them, just shoved them in the back corner. Aw, man...

Swerve folds his arms awkwardly across his chest.

“I can be mad at you and think you're cool at the same time. I'm a multitasker.”

“You're a very specific kind of ghost.” says Blurr. Then, apparently inspired by the painkillers, decides to drop the conversational equivalent of an atomic bomb on Swerve's head “You died because of me?”

Swerve stiffens.

“I...Wwhat?”

“You know.” he makes a gesture with his hand that's ..unclear what it's supposed to mean. “You were working there with everyone else, and then there was that fire and I was sure I saw you down there under the rubble.”

He's silent for a couple seconds before he hesitantly continues

“And then no one could find you so most assumed you either burned or ran away. And now you're here with all your weird ghost stuff, so you must be dead.”

Swerve has.No idea what to think about it. And what to say? He's been so busy blaming himself for Blurr getting hurt that it hasn't occurred to him to think about what it looks like from Blurr's own perspective.

“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”

“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head’s all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”

Swerve wants to run around and bang his head against the wall.

Instead, he gets up from the hospital bed. Carefully.

“You're high. I'm not going to explain things to you while you're high, you won't understand or remember them. Go back to sleep. It's the middle of the night.”

“You'll tell me later?”

Swerve hums quietly and pulls the curtains all the way closed.

“If future, sober Blurr would want my company.”

---------------

Jazz looks at him. Very intensely.

“Are you going to tell me who this mystery person you keep coming back to Earth for?”

Swerve snorts.

“What makes you think it's anyone in particular?”

“You're right, you're right~” raises his hands in surrender Jazz “So are you going to tell your friend the whole thing?”

Swerve crosses his ..metal arms over his metal chest.

“Is it that big of a deal? He thinks I'm a ghost or something.”

Being a ghost...somehow better, he thinks. If you're a ghost, it kind of automatically implies you're human. Or was a human.

“Sooner or later, he'll put the facts together~” says Jazz in a chant.

Swerve laughs.

“That's unlikely. He's got a pretty bad memory.”

_______________

His plans to stay out of anyone's sight combust with a dramatic pop the next time he projects himself to Earth. He doesn't plan to interfere, he doesn't even plan to linger. He just wants to see what's going on.

He actually just quietly sneaks into the hospital to make sure nothing's happened to Blurr since last time, but when he finally finds him then...oh shit, is that Pharma in the same room with him??? This can't be good.

They don't speak, but Pharma has clearly locked his eyes on Blurr and starts making his way towards him with the relentlessness of a industrial metal press.

Swerve does some rough math in his head. If he briefly gives his holoform back its detail and voice, will that be enough to fry his processor? He's not sure.

Pharma gives a believable impression of a shark getting close. The staff, as if sensing something untoward is about to happen, leaves the room in a hurry.

Blurr looks indifferent, but Swerve's attention is drawn to the way he squints tensely. Man, the lamps are too bright in here.

Pharma smiles sweetly and reaches out for a handshake

“Mind some company?”

Swerve's mental processes fly out the window. Oh no no. Not Pharma. Not in his fucking fanfic. He quickly changes his work clothes into a slightly more business-like looking shirt. Thinks for just a moment and adds a cap to his head to blend in more strongly with the attendants and hide his face to an extent. And then projects himself around the nearest unoccupied corner and runs out of behind it looking as anxious as he feels.

“Blurr!!! Sir, there you are!!! I've been looking everywhere for you!”

Pharma wants to say something, but Swerve doesn't even let him start. He stands in front of Blurr separating him and Farma expressively waves his hands trying to keep his head down.

“The guys you were talking about didn't bring the new hydraulics! It's a disaster, we'll have to use the one on the old models!”

Blurr, to his surprise, backs up his act almost instantly

“Really? But I thought there was nothing to take from the old models?”

“That's exactly the point! I got the paperwork this morning and...oh those assholes are going to screw it up if you don't step in as soon as possible!”

Pharma tilts his head

“Can it wait? We were actually talking here!”

Oh no, thinks Swerve I'll show you who's talking.

“Sir, no offense but this is a matter of extreme urgency. Are you implying that the safety of your patients is not important?”

“What do you mea...”

“Old faulty hydraulics, that's what you want?” raises an eyebrow in horror Blurr.

“No I'm just...”

“I had a better opinion of you, to be honest.”

“I...” opens his mouth Pharma “...WHAT...?”

Swerve shakes his head.

“And I thought his profession was to help people, can you imagine?”

“Wh..”

Blurr rolls his eye.

“Any idiot can get an important position these days.”

“Wait..”

“Tell me about it. Especially doctors.”

Pharma looks like he's about to start pulling the hair out of his head.

“Can at least one of you shut up??”

Swerve adjusts his cap in a businesslike manner

“Sir, I understand you're a bit detached from reality spending so much time in your department, but you need to take better care of your reputation.”

He raises his eyebrows knowingly

“Wouldn't want the rumors about you to turn out to be true. You know what I mean?”

Pharma doesn't even answer anymore. Pharma just looks like a discarded fish.

“…..Wha....there's rumors?”

“Of course” shrugs Swerve ”Ask Norman, he usually knows everything about everyone. And about your interesting tricks with safety, too.”

He leans in conspiratorially, effectively pulling all of Farma's attention to himself

“So if I were you, I'd stay out of any more things you don't understand.”

Pharma wants to say something. Swerve can tell by the look in his eyes. Pharma tries to come up with a witty and context-appropriate response, but this whole conversation has no more context than a typical episode of Teletubbies.

“Where does this Norman guy work?” finally finds the ground beneath his feet Pharma

Swerve shrugs.

“Block C, if he hasn't been transferred yet. He's already been fined several times for spreading harmful information you know? The guy can't keep a secret.”

Pharma throws his hands up angrily and storms away. Probably looking for context. Or revenge.

A quiet cough sounds behind Swerve's back.

“So. Should I be worried about Norman's health?”

Swerve feels the hair on the back of his neck shiver and slowly turns to face Blurr while still looking somewhere on the floor.

“Uh...only if you're concerned about the fate of fictional characters. I made up Norman's wife, she'll be upset if he gets fired for gossiping.”

Blurr chuckles. Then goes silent. Then, after a couple seconds, starts laughing again. That's a good look for him, Swerve thinks. It's not like Blurr's usual velvet-smooth laugh that he uses at social events. It's more like a quick, jerky giggle, and in Swerve's subjective opinion, it's pretty damn cute. He can't help but grin.

Blurr snorts one last time, cutting off the laughter.

Then he reaches out his hand to him.

Swerve reaches back, expecting a handshake, but Blurr ignores his hand and instead goes for his cap and lifts it by the brim.

Swerve, not expecting this, freezes with his hand outstretched.

Blurr freezes as well, still holding the cap in his hand and looking...like he's rethinking his life. A little.

Ugh, and how to explain it all to him....

“Uh...you...uh...probably don't remember me. I...it's...”

Blurr shifts his gaze from Swerve to the cap in his hand. Then back to Swerve.

“You're real???”

Swerve awkwardly waves his hands in front of him

“Ah not.., not really. Do you know why Pharma was looking for you in the first place? He doesn't work with patients anymore, he's been reassigned to the research department, right?”

Blurr shrugs.

“Last time I saw him, he said I might have implant rejection in the third ..uh..what? stage? or something? I think he's trying to get me in for a checkup.”

Swerve twitches.

“Third??? How are you still standing???”

He then quickly reaches up with both hands to Blurr's head and tilts it so he can see his face better. Using one thumb, he pulls his lower eyelid slightly and mentally catalogs. Temperature normal, pupil normal, eyes are steady, no darkening or trace of blood on the eyelid. Implants? He puts both palms up and gently feels the places behind Blurr's ears. No signs of rejection or malfunction.

“No no no” sighs Swerve ”You're fine, it's only stage two. I mean, second sucks too, migraines and all, but you just need to rest and no bright lights and...” he finally notices his hands are still on Blurr's head and pulls them back as fast as if he's been burned ”I MEAN I'm uh...sorry, I didn't mean to, I...”

Blurr laughs quietly.

“I'm glad you're back.”

_____________________

He wakes up in his quarters and can feel his face burning.

When he goes out to get the energon, Jazz throws him a look.

“Is something wrong? You're all kinda...shaky.”

“Hhhhhhuuuuuuuuuuuu” imitates signs of life Swerve “Say, doesn't it bother you that Prowl isn't human?”

Jazz smiles

“ Oh, I went crazy when I found out. But we figured it out.”

“Like...on a scale from ‘bad grade in school’ to ‘an asteroid is coming to Earth’ how crazy was it?”

“Worried about what your human friends will think?”

Swerve swings back and forth on his heels

“Pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff. Whatnooooo, no of course not. I'd be worried if I planned on telling them at all.”

Jazz frowns

“No offense, but keeping secrets isn't your strong suit.”

“Haha” Swerve waves his servo “ Watch me.”

[luviestarz]

ʟᴇᴇ ʜᴀᴇᴄʜᴀɴ ꜰɪᴄ ʀᴇᴄꜱ! ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2 ❥

❥ Love at First Bite…literally!? - @huangberryyy (Wherein Haechan finally gets the chick flick moment he dreamt of. Or wherein Haechan finally understands the appeal of being bitten by bitches.)

❥ the bet - @tyonfs (you and lee donghyuck created a bet that stated you two would have sex if he made the winning shot. now, you’re pinned up against the lockers, about to do the one thing best friends don’t do, and you definitely shouldn’t be wanting more.)

❥ Babe Watch [M]  - @milfgyuu (You and Haechan both have big plans this summer. You’re going to earn yourself a spot on the infamous Baywatch team and Haechan’s deadset on getting the girl. It just so happens that both your plans intersect quite nicely.)

❥ [8:02pm] - @nctsworld (in which a spontaneous dance in the kitchen with donghyuck sparks a revelation about how you feel about him.)

❥ beware the panty perv ♡ ldh x reader - @guanana (there’s a mystery at hand! it seems like your panties have been vanishing into thin air whenever you need them most? angry that your favorite pairs of panties are going missing, you decide to put on your detective hat in hopes of finding the mysterious lingerie bandit. but between all of the guys that you sleep with— you can’t seem to pinpoint who the culprit could be. it couldn’t possibly be your absolute geek of a tutor for calculus, right? nah.)

❥ september 19. - @hyucks-archive

❥ SURE THING (L.DH) - @domjaehyun

❥ young gods (l.dh) - @606fm (in the midst of committing felonies in the dark, lee donghyuck—your literal partner in crime and ride or die for life—manages to snag your heart in the process without you even realizing it. i mean, what the hell did you expect from seoul city’s most notorious robber?)

❥ [7:43am] - @aesthyuckic

❥ haechan is obsessed with you. - @haechurch

❥ the right one. (m) - @starryhyuck (donghyuck doesn’t like you going on dates with anyone else, especially lee jeno. you’re supposed to be his. and only his.)

❥ meow haechan using a lot of tongue meow meow  - @ofjunemoment (or: you’re thinking of getting a tongue piercing, but you’re not sure how haechan feels)

❥ attention - @pinkynana (gamer boys are the easiest target for you. they barely interact with any other woman so the moment you find out haechan was a gamer boy, you promised to sit on his lap any time he wanted to.)

❥ free falling - @sunpopz (your friend haechan has been acting kinda weird lately.. does it have anything to do with you? maybe it does, considering he keeps looking at you like you're gonna kill him any second. well, that and he randomly liked a three month old picture of you.)

❥ haechan — just for you (m) - @hyuckmov (because haechan thought you were irresistible when you were clever, if only because he knew he was the only one who could make your brain go empty.)

❥ Started With A Kiss - @sundaysundaes (Rookie actor, Lee Haechan, desperately wants to get the lead role in the highly anticipated upcoming TV drama. He’s sure he has what it takes to fill the part. Acting as a hero? No problem. Pretending to overcome his traumatic experience? Consider it done. A bed scene? Easy—wait, no. That might be a problem. But he should be fine as long as he gets to rehearse, right?)

❥ if I lose my mind - @slightlymore (you’ve never cared much for your dreams. they were always confusing nonsense you forgot in the morning. this until you started to have the same dream again and again and again: a lobby, pleasant elevator music in the background, many golden doors, a handsome young man welcoming you and asking where you wanted to go that night. his name was haechan and apparently you weren’t supposed to know that, let alone fall in love with him.)

❥ this is the story of how we fell in love, apparently. - @navyhyuck (running a youtube channel with your best friend isn’t easy, not when he’s like a ticking time bomb that’s constantly bubbling up something new. what’s worse is that you’ve had a crush on him for the past three years.)

❥ face sitting - @haetkeeper

❥ pervert (M) - @haechannielove (you confront haechan on his disgusting and constant objectification of you.)

❥ Pearlescent - @d-nghy-ck (A shoreline sunset spent cozied up against Hyuck dives deep past surface level. His lips profess his heart’s intent; his eyes reflect waves dancing in iridescent glimmers; his love whispered into your skin evokes heated passion.) 

❥ i love it, starboy - @staargirlblog (slight yandere! idol! haechan x fangirl! reader)

❥ college boyfriend!haechan - @lvlyynim

❥ perv!haechan - @4everhyucks

❥ My Boy. - @prodbymaui (A series of failed relationships and you were this near of giving up on love. But then here comes little Donghyuck and his persistence. Maybe-- he was the one fated to you, after all.)

[onlymingyus]

Fatal Trouble

pairing; lee jihoon x f!reader 

genre; fantasy, heavy angst, mild horror, slow burn, smut (minor dni), toxic, fluff 

summary; where others would steal, bargain, or kill to live the life that jihoon had, he knew the truth. a charmed life was often a cursed one. 

content warnings; prince!jihoon, princess!reader, both the reader and jihoon’s parents are mentioned/in the fic, duke!mingyu, mild love triangle, jealousy, based on the beauty and the beast, beast!jihoon, some ideas have been borrowed from damsel, royalty au, time period not stated but not modern, curses, pregnancy/miscarriage scares, blood, mauling, murder/death, loss of parent(s), arranged marriage, crying, arguing, mental struggles, vivid descriptions of wounds/shifting, poor use of french, especially old french (i apologize). I am sure there are more—this is a very heavy fic. if there is anything glaring I missed, message me. (patreon will have additional warnings)

smut warnings; multiple smut scenes, virgin!reader, mild Dom/sub themes, dubcon leaning noncon briefly, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f recieving), handjob, pet names, crying (pleasure and not) — as always I’m sure I’m missing something, send me a message if it’s glaring. (patreon will have additional warnings)

w/c; 47k and some change (50k~ with patreon bonus)

once upon a time collab masterlist 

fatal trouble - enhypen 

a/n; thank you to @nothoughtsjustfic for putting together this collab. this has been a lot of fun and incredibly challenging all at the same time. also a huge thank you to @junkissed for proofreading this beast (pun intended). I know you are incredibly busy and you still managed to carve out a little time for me, I appreciate it more than you know. 

French word bank: Monseigneur - title for prince, Madame - title female royalty (queen/princess), Madame La Reine - title for queen, Monsieur - title male royalty (duke), Maman - mother, Mon fils - son, Mon amor- my love, Mon ange - my angel

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

1

He knew they were trying to keep the truth from him. Jihoon wasn’t sure why at this point. His mother liked to pretend that if you didn’t speak about something, you could pretend it didn’t happen. Jihoon knew all too well that not saying something didn’t make nightmares disappear. 

The bile was rising in his throat as he watched the men shift the girl’s bloody arm under the white sheet. She had been exceptionally pretty and incredibly naive. She had truly believed this was her dream come true. She was going to become the Queen of Aetherial Grove. She was changing the lives of her tiny little no-name kingdom... At least half of that was true. 

“Monseigneur…” 

Jihoon hadn’t realized he had stopped walking or that he was staring. Even as Wonwoo spoke to him, the prince kept his eyes down on the ground. Jihoon was beginning to look ill. Over the past few months, the stress of everything around him had only made his usual ordeal all that much worse. Wonwoo knew and saw everything in the palace, but watching Jihoon now he could see his sunken cheeks and the dark circles under his eyes that were only highlighting how pale he had become. 

“Monseigneur? Prince Jihoon?” 

The droplets of blood were like a trail of guilt for Jihoon as he watched the girl’s body being taken from the courtyard. He could hear Wonwoo’s voice, but the blood rushing in his ears and the sound of his own heart beating rapidly were drowning it out until the moment that the Steward placed his hand on Jihoon’s shoulder. “What? What do—stop coddling me.” 

Lifting his shoulders to shrug the man’s hand from him, Jihoon swallows the bile from his throat and leans his head back towards the sky. It was a cloudy day in the Aetherial Grove. If Jihoon had to be out of the palace, these were the days he preferred. The sunshine hurt his sensitive eyes and reminded him that most nights he hadn’t slept as much as he or anyone else would have hoped he had. 

“My apologies, monseigneur. You just looked lost in your thoughts, I—” Wonwoo knew that he wasn’t fooling anyone, but especially not Jihoon. He could see the disdainful look on his face as he finally met his eyes. “I just wanted to bring you back to the present. Nothing here was worth your concern and your mother wanted to meet with you in the queen’s salon.” 

There was nothing else in the world that Jihoon would rather do less than speak with his mother after what had just occurred, and yet he knew—as always—he didn’t have a choice in the matter. “Ah, I see. Well, I won’t keep the queen waiting then. I’m present and accounted for, Wonwoo; you’ve done your job well, as always.” With a roll of his eyes, Jihoon sighs out the last of his words, turning on his heel and turning back up the steps towards the large front doors of the palace he had the unfortunate privilege to call home. Where others would steal, bargain, or kill to live the life that Jihoon had, he knew the truth. A charmed life was often a cursed one. 

“It’s entirely unfortunate. If they ask for a cause, we say what we always do—” 

“That she died of disease?” 

Jihoon’s mother was a beautiful woman. In her youth, the queen had been regarded as one of the most stunning women in any surrounding kingdom to Aetherial Grove, and that was what brought her here and to her husband. While age hadn’t taken her beauty, stress had begun to show around her eyes and lips as, with each backhand comment from Jihoon, she found a new line forming from frustration. 

“Yes, mon fils, because that is precisely what happened to that poor girl.”  

Of course it was. That was what had happened to every single ill-fated princess who had made her way into Jihoon’s life. Scoffing under his breath, Jihoon moves to the large windows, feeling his mother’s eyes linger on him for a moment longer. She was frustrated; her annoyance was palpable in the air. 

“We persevere and try aga—”

“You can’t be serious, maman. When is enough, enough?” Jihoon didn’t allow his mother time to answer his question as she shifted on her chair. He knew the right answer and the answer he would receive. “I’m done with this.” 

The air in the room had gone stagnant as the tension rose between them. There was only so much that she could handle before she would snap, and Jihoon was walking that line. “Well, darling, that isn’t a choice you simply get to make, is it?” In the queen’s mind, Jihoon might be struggling with the adjustments he was having to make, but his life—this life that they all lived—was worth all of it. It was worth a few mishaps. “This isn’t about you, Jihoon. Your father is struggling; don’t you care? It’s your job—no, it’s your duty to step up and accept your position, and you are acting like an insolent child because, why? A few girls we barely knew didn’t fit in.” There were more important things to be concerned about in his mother’s mind than things that were now part of the past. 

“Wonwoo, dear? Make sure that the room is in perfect condition for our beautiful new princess, won’t you?” 

The bile was back in Jihoon’s throat. He could hear the faint roaring of what could be mistaken as his blood in his ears once again, but he knew that wasn’t what it was. No, that rumble was too familiar and terrified him. He was angry, and he wasn’t the only one that was taking notice. Inside of Jihoon was his family's greatest tragedy and well-kept secret. While he had been told his entire life that it had never been his fault, every time that he woke up with blood on his hands and face, he would need to be convinced again. 

The great kingdom of Aetherial Grove was full of wealth and prosperity, not just for the royal family but their subjects. While those around them seemed to fall into debt and ruin over the years, Aetherial Grove seemed to have never faltered. That was far from the truth. Those who truly knew the history of the kingdom would know that Aetherial Grove grew from nothing and not without immense challenges. That was all until Jihoon’s family took the throne and suddenly the challenges were gone, seemingly bringing the kingdom into the sun and good fortune. 

What had really happened not only changed the lives of everyone in Aetherial Grove, but Jihoon’s life in particular. Jihoon’s father had been a young king with a barren wife. His kingdom had been on the brink of complete collapse when a beautiful man with a charming smile offered him a solution. He would grant the King everything he ever wanted if the King promised him a favor. It seemed simple, and it had been until Jihoon’s father let the wealth and power go to his head, and then the man had come back requesting his favor. 

“Such a pretty wife, Sire... and she’s with child? So far along. My blessings to you both.” 

The words had seemed like a threat more than anything. Where the man seemed to be offering his well wishes, the glint in his eye told Jihoon’s father there was something amiss. “She is, and we thank you.” 

“As you should. It was by my will that it came to be, and what was given can be taken away.” The beautiful man’s smile that had seemed charming at first now seemed so sinister. “I’ve come to collect my favor, Sire.” 

“I’m certain that you have, but I fear I have noth—” 

“You have more than enough. Look around you; all that I have helped you to attain. Yet you lie to me and say you have nothing? Are you attempting to renege on our agreement, Sire?” The man appeared more snakelike than human as his eyes moved along the pretty queen’s face and down to the swell of her stomach. “I wouldn’t suggest it. Allow me to stay in the palace until I wish to part. Be that in days, months, years, or until I die.”  

While the king knew in his heart that the man was right and that all that was around him was due in thanks to the deal he had made with the man, his pride couldn't allow him to admit it. How would he explain to his servants or subjects who this man was that he was allowing to walk around freely in his palace? What could this lithe man do to him? The king was a man of immense power and fortitude. So instead of folding and showing any respect to him, the king scoffed and held his queen closer. “I owe you nothing. You’ll leave us at once.”

“Is that so? Do you know what happens when you don’t keep your promises? What happens when you let your ego think for you?” While the man knew what the answer from the king would be, he took a step forward only to feel the guard’s weapon at his chest to keep him back. He knew that something that weak and simple wouldn’t stop him if he truly wanted to harm any of them, but for the sake of peace in the moment, he took no further steps and chose to speak instead. “You’d rather sacrifice something other than your pride? That’s fine. Act like a beast and receive one.” 

Before the king could even open his mouth to question what the man’s words meant, at his side the queen gasped in pain, feeling a cramp in her stomach. There had been no complications with her pregnancy, and the child had been a miracle—perhaps too much of one. "Darling, what’s wrong?” 

Taking a step back, the man smirks to himself as he watches the king move to his knee at the woman’s side as she sobs and shakes her head in confusion. “She will survive. Everyone will, for now. We will see if he harbors your pride, Sire. I have my doubts. I’ll take my leave.” 

The king wanted to question the man, have him detained, and get to the bottom of his words, but one more fearful scream from his wife had him terrified. Jihoon had been born a month early and thought to be stillborn for a full ten minutes until, by another miracle, he let out a frantic scream as if brought back from the dead. 

His mother’s voice had become ringing in his ears as Jihoon rested his head against his hand, attempting to force the roaring in his ears to stop. It wasn’t until she was on her feet and talking about moving out the previous girl’s things that Jihoon groaned under his breath, loudly bringing everyone’s attention back to him. “Isabelle. She has—had a name. They all have names, maman.” 

“Obviously, Jihoon. I’m aware she had—” 

“Isabelle, Lia, Haeun, Elise, Baili, Krista, Ara, Gret—” 

“Stop it!” 

While it was rare for Jihoon’s mother to raise her voice—to truly yell—today she had. She was tired of hearing the names. She didn’t need to hear their names again. Their names didn’t matter to her. “It’s all unfortunate, Jihoon; I’m aware! Mon fils…” Carefully lifting her hands, she cups Jihoon’s face and meets his eyes, seeing the pain behind them. That was why she pushed as hard as she did. He was always alone; not even her company would ever be enough, and eventually, like his father was now, she would die. How could she leave her son alone? How could she leave him alone with his secret? With their secret? “It’s not your fault.” 

The words he hated more than any others. That was the prettiest lie and the most frequent lie that his mother told him. She had told him that same one time and time again over the span of his life. Resting his hand on her arm, Jihoon closes his eyes and furrows his brows tightly to attempt to hide his frustration as he spoke through gritted teeth. “It is, so please, maman... Don’t make me try this again. I don’t need a wife.” 

“I’m sorry.” Jihoon’s tears trail over her fingers, and his mother’s heart breaks once again. She had lost count on how many times she had felt that feeling since the man who had cursed them had come into their house. While Jihoon’s curse was much worse, this was hers. She had to watch her son live in pain. “Your father is dying, Jihoon, and you need a queen.” 

2

You knew that one day someone would arrange for your hand and you would have to leave your family and your kingdom. However, the day that it happened, you weren’t sure you could have ever been prepared for it. A man had shown up at your family’s small palace in Thornwood, and you had never seen someone who looked more out of place. He had handed your father a letter, and you had watched pride and happiness wash over your father’s face before his eyes landed on you. That was the moment your life changed forever. 

Deep down, you knew that this arrangement was a good thing. Even in just the couple of weeks since your father had received the letter, things had changed dramatically, not just for your family but for your kingdom as a whole. Thornwood had been struggling. In your memory, you couldn’t remember a time when the kingdom hadn’t been in a time of suffering, but things had only gotten worse over the past few years. 

Waters once rich with fish were now seemingly empty and the crop fields were barren. There wasn’t enough money in the entire kingdom to make any changes that were deemed necessary, much less keep everyone fed, so that was why when the letter came, it had been to everyone else, a miracle. To you, it was your worst nightmare. You had to leave the kingdom you loved more than yourself and marry someone you didn’t know and that you didn’t love. The only thing that made the weight of the price worth it; it was the dowry already being spent towards the benefit of your kingdom. 

“That is what duty is, my love. Sacrifice is difficult, but the reward is great.” 

Your father’s words looped in your ear as you now stood in front of great golden gates in the Aetherial Grove. You had heard so much and yet so little about this kingdom and its prince. He was a mystery and their were horror stories to match the amount of fairytales that came from the forest that acted as a gate around the kingdom. While you didn’t heed much credit to gossip or tales, you couldn’t help but think of them now as the servants unloaded your luggage and the gates began to open on your future. 

“I’ve heard the prince is a cruel but handsome man.” 

“No way! He’s a prince; he has to be charming and kind.” 

“But dear, Y/N... stay out of the woods. Did you hear about the beast of Aetherial Grove? So many women have gone missing. Or at least that’s the story.” 

“Don’t listen to silly stories! Your prince will keep you safe. I mean, your king! Oh my goodness, Y/N, you’re going to be a queen!” 

Those had been the last things you had heard from your cousins, as they had helped you pack your things. You had never cared enough about wanting to be a queen of anywhere, not even of Thornwood and now you were being thrust into a completely new world and expected to rule. You could feel your breakfast churning in your stomach as the handsome butler ushered you forward and spoke, though you barely listened to what he said, your mind a whirl of anxiety. 

“Madame Y/N, we are so honored to have you here.” 

The man named Soonyoung kept speaking, explaining other servant’s names, but none of them stuck with you because you were unable to focus on anything the moment you stepped foot inside the palace. The room was massive; it felt like an echo chamber. Every spoken word reverberated back into your ears like a bomb that made you feel unsteady on your feet and no one seemed to notice at first until a kind hand rested on your forearm. 

“Madame… are you alright?” 

The color in your skin had gone wrong. Jieun could see the chillbumps rising on your arms as you swayed ever so slightly along with Soonyoung’s words. It wasn’t like her to act out of turn, but she was happy she had put her hand on you when she did and saw the discomfort in your eyes. 

“No. I feel like I’m going to be sick.” 

Those words got everyone in motion. You hadn’t wanted so much attention and yet at the mention of being ill, you found yourself on a sofa with your feet up and a wet cloth on your forehead as the pretty girl who had first spoken to you watched over you closely. 

“Perhaps we could let Madame rest? I can stay with her and we can finish the tour when she is feeling like herself again.” 

Soonyoung wanted to argue with Jieun and tell her that there wasn’t time for all of the drama, but one more look at you and the pitiful look on your face had him agreeing. “I will let the monseigneur know what’s happening. Find me as soon as she’s feeling better.” 

The silence that followed the moment that Soonyoung closed the door behind him left you with a sigh of relief and put a smile on Jieun’s face. “I’m sure that is a welcomed change, Madame. I apologize for overwhelming you. I’m sure between your travels and—” 

“I’m alright, I promise. Could—would it be wrong of me to ask you to just call me Y/N? Your name is Jieun, right?” 

The apprehension was clear on Jieun’s face, but there was something about you that made her agree. She knew that if the queen heard her call you anything other than a proper title, she would be reprimanded, but it was nice to be treated differently—similar to an equal—for once. 

“Yes, Mada—Y/N. That’s my name. I—I’m actually the monseigneur’s cousin.” A shy smile pulls at her lips and Jieun shifts closer to you to adjust the cloth on your forehead. “We will be family soon." You can’t help but notice how her brows furrow even slightly and how she swallows hard, using her thumb to keep the cloth from your eyes. “Hopefully. I—as long as you and the monseigneur find no disagreements with the arrangement, I mean.” 

It was such a peculiar choice of words for Jieun to use in your opinion, but instead of questioning her, you choose to offer her a smile and nod. “Oh, that’s lovely. I’m certain that as long as I meet his standards, we can move along with the marriage. They’ve already paid—” Pressing your lips together, realizing how crass you sound in your words, you wrinkle your nose and try again. “A generous dowry was offered and accepted. My kingdom is very appreciative of this arrangement. It’s a duty I’m happy to uphold.” 

Jieun knew how this worked. She had done this so many times, with so many other women and yet as she sat with you like this now, it was the first time it made her heart ache. You were too good for this. She feared for you. “I’m certain you are... I—however, I know this isn’t my place, mada—Y/N, but may I offer some advice as a resident of Aetherial Grove?” Giving a quick glance to the door before avoiding your eyes directly, Jieun speaks through a strained smile. “Keep your head down and please stay out of the forest. Don’t go out at night.” 

The warning seems genuine, perhaps a sweet word for someone who might be afraid of the dark until you laugh under your breath and Jieun’s gaze finally meets yours. You can see just how serious she is, how her nose flairs and how she looks from the door once again and back to you whispering please before adding once again, “Don’t go out at night, Y/N.” 

Jieun’s words, much like your father’s, were echoing in your mind as you finally were being led through the palace with the girl by your side. She had seemed so sincere, and yet the moment that Soonyoung had returned to check on you, a facade had gone back up. You were no longer Y/N; you were once again Madame and now you were being led to what would become your rooms. 

“Until the wedding and after the coronation, of course. I’m sure you understand. The rooms are a bit smaller than the queen’s, but I hope they will suit you.” 

You weren’t sure what Soonyoung thought you were used to as you looked around the spacious rooms. If you chose to, you wouldn’t have to see anyone else in the palace. You had an entire wing to yourself and servants that would answer directly to you, including Jieun. Of course, you knew that your choice wasn’t your own and there would be no staying in your rooms and being alone. 

“This is wonderful—more than I could possibly ever n—”

“Soonyoung!” 

The raised voice made your heart begin to race instantly. While there had been a lot of voices and too much commotion around your arrival, no one had raised their voice once since you had arrived—that was until this man. You watch as Soonyoung swallows hard and rubs his lips together as if to steady himself before he turns towards the open doors to your salon and towards a handsome man dressed only like who you could assume to be royalty. This couldn’t be—

“Monseigneur…” 

Too soon. You had arrived far too quickly for Jihoon’s liking. They had barely gotten Isabelle’s things out of this room before they were moving yours in. Jihoon’s head was busting, his stomach was in knots, and you looked like a fragile doll ready to be broken with eyes wide with fear. 

“Keep her away from me; is that understood?” 

While Jihoon was speaking much quieter now, you could still make out his words as Soonyoung shuffled closer to him. You could so clearly see that there was a disdain for you written on the prince’s face and yet he hadn’t said a word to you. This was the first time he had seen you. Did he even know your name? 

Stepping forward, you hear Jieun mutter madame under her breath as you clear your throat and offer Jihoon a soft smile. “No, it’s okay, Jieun. Monseigneur?” Ignored. Jihoon barely shifts his eyes towards you, tilting his head almost like a wounded animal when you take another step in his direction. “Prince Jihoon… I’m—” 

“Y/N Y/L/N, of the Kingdom of Thornwood. Yes, I’m aware of your name. I’m busy, as you can see, madame.” He knew he was being cruel from the getgo, but that look of shock in your eyes was better than seeing you dead on the forest ground. “Soonyoung, with me. I have things to do. Good day, Madame.” 

3

It had been two months since you had arrived in Thornwood. While others seemed overjoyed by this fact, you were growing more miserable every single day. There had been times when Jihoon had been forced to be in the same room with you or to be at events with you, but otherwise he had spoken no more than a dozen words since your arrival. 

Today was no different. Today was the official public announcement of your engagement to the prince. Apparently no flaws had been found in you—he had deemed you good enough and you would get to suffer by his side until you died. 

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” 

At least you had Jieun and moments of privacy where you had a bit of normalcy. Smiling at the girl in the mirror. You lift the bracelet from the vanity in front of you as Jieun adds finishing touches to your makeup. “I don’t feel beautiful, but thank you.” 

Jieun could see the changes that had been slowly occurring in you since your arrival. Your smile was different. Your light was different. You were becoming resigned to a life of loneliness and while it wasn’t fair... perhaps that was the sacrifice you and Jihoon would both have to make in order to make this marriage work. This was the farthest that any of the women had ever made it. Some had gotten scared off in hours, some injured in the matter of days, and others killed after a week. You were sad but alive after two months. That was a triumph to be celebrated. 

“Then I will work harder. Make sure you look even more gorgeous in your dress for the party. Your bracelet is a very good choice.” 

You admired Jieun’s resilience. She was easily your closet friend in the kingdom and to say that you valued her presence would be an understatement. Smiling at the piece of jewelry now around your wrist, you run your fingertips over the closed clasp and think back to the moment that it was given to you just days before you had left Thornwood. “Mm, it is beautiful. It was a gift from a dear friend. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss him.” There was something beautiful and gut wrenching about the twisted golden thorns circling your wrist. The design was so delicate and yet in it’s simplicity, you felt a pang of home sickness. 

“Oh? I—it wasn’t my place.” 

Lowering your arm into your lap, you smile at Jieun in the mirror as you shake your head. You knew it was a bold choice to wear the bracelet. It wasn’t a gift from your betrothed, and yet you hadn’t received a gift from Jihoon. You had little fear that he would even notice a bracelet on your wrist anymore than he would notice you in the room for longer than he had to. “It’s fine, Jieun. No harm done. I’ll have something to far outshine it soon enough, won’t I?” 

Your words seem to ease Jieun’s mind, but they only cause yourself to spiral. You can already feel the weight of the ring on your finger and wonder if that weight will be worth the price. 

In his own room, Jihoon was thinking much the same. He had already felt the weight of the box in his jacket pocket and it felt as if it weighed an impossible amount. It wasn’t his life that he felt that he was ruining, but yours. 

He had gone out of his way to avoid you over the past two months. It had been equally as difficult as it had been easy. His mother was furious with him and his behavior, and yet you were still breathing and now you were going to be officially named as his future queen. All that he had done had been for the sake of his kingdom and, in his own twisted way, for you. 

It wasn’t that Jihoon didn’t have a desire to know you. You were stunning. He had found many of the other women who had been brought to the palace beautiful, but the first day you had been brought in, he knew that he was in trouble. You were a breath of fresh air with how you lit up the room until he spoke you with such unkind words and he watched your smile fade. It was a hefty price to pay to keep you at a distance, but a distance was safe. At a distance, he could observe and yearn. There was no true danger in that as long as you followed the rules. 

You were as intelligent as you were beautiful. Jihoon knew about all of the books you were requesting in the palace library. If they happened to not be found, he made sure they were the next time you had them in your mind. He knew that you loved fresh air, and as terrified as that made him, as long as it was during the daylight hours, he would permit it. So one day you woke to learn that there were horses at your disposal in the palace stable. 

And yet, with all the things that Jihoon tried to provide for you, he watched your spirit diminish daily. You made friends with the staff easily, despite knowing that the queen wouldn’t like it. In that way, you were much like him and that made it even easier for him to learn about how truly depressed you were. 

Standing in front of the floor-length mirror, Jihoon stretches his arm out, allowing Soonyoung to adjust his sleeves as he listens to Junhui, the palace chef, explain the menu for the night’s event. 

“Duck confit served with roasted potatoes, cauliflower gratin—” 

“Tell me again what she said, Junhui.” 

This was the third time that Junhui had attempted to make his way through the entirety of the menu for the prince to interrupt him and want to talk about you. While he enjoyed having you in the palace and your frequent visits to his kitchen, at the moment he wished he had never divulged that information to Jihoon. Sighing into his words, Junhui lowers his head before lifting it once again to meet Jihoon’s eyes in the mirror. “Why are you obsessing over it?” 

“You know why.” Shaking out his hand, Jihoon scowls at Soonyoung and Junhui each as he turns from the mirror, deeming himself dressed. “I’m—this is happening tonight and then in less than a month she’ll be my wife. She hates me—” 

“Because you want her to, Jihoon.” It was Soonyoung who spoke up this time. He knew that if this were anyone else in the palace, they would be reprimanded for how they spoke to Jihoon, but he had been chosen to be his butler for a reason. He was the same age as the prince. They had grown up in the palace together, as close as brothers could be without sharing blood. He knew every detail of Jihoon’s secrets and regrets. “You purposely hurt her to keep her awa—” 

“And she’s alive! For fuck’s sake, Soonyoung. What would you have me do? Waltz into her salon and profess my affection? Tell her about what I am." Scoffing into his words, Jihoon tugs roughly on the lapels of his expensive jacket, feeling the threads shift at his strength. “My darling, Y/N... I regret to inform you of my terrible curse. I’ll never be able to show you true affection, dear, out of fear that I might remove your windpipe with my teeth.” 

With Jihoon’s words, you could have heard a pin drop at how silent the room had gone. He knew what Soonyoung and Junhui wanted to say to him—the same thing everyone always did; this wasn’t his fault. Jihoon knew all too well that it was his fault. He couldn’t control the beast and that was his fault. 

“Let’s get this over with.”

4

Your life was now one massive echo chamber. As you stood in the middle of the ballroom with people moving around you, it was as if nothing that was being said made it to your ears. Instead of intelligible words, you found muffled and warbling phrases muddling together as you nodded along. The only thing keeping you grounded to the marble under your heels was the champagne flute in your fingers that kept being refilled. 

“Such a handsome couple. Truly, we are blessed. Think of the children she will bless the kingdom with.” 

Jihoon couldn’t even find it in himself to force a fake smile as members of his extended family regarded you like well-kept livestock. He knew the duty to the kingdom. His was to become king and to take a queen, and that was why you were even in this room and near him in the first place, but the fact that they expected him to put a child in you. How was he going to be able to—The bile was sitting in his throat. It was too close to dark and Jihoon could feel the rumbling in his head as he dug his nails into his palm as you shifted closer to him to get out of someone’s way. 

“My apologies, monseigneur.” 

Your voice was so small that it made the hair on Jihoon’s neck stand up. He could smell the champagne on your breath and he couldn’t help how his eyes moved over your beautiful face and down your frame. Taking a calming breath, Jihoon shakes his head and carefully removes the flute from your fingers, placing it on a tray as a servant passes by. “Quite enough. They are trying to keep you inebriated and pliant. You’ll be sick in the morning.” 

Wrinkling your nose to Jihoon’s hushed words, you meet his eyes and barely hold back a scoff. You knew he wasn’t wrong, but you were four glasses of champagne in and it made the night feel less like hell. “As you wish.” The room was too loud without something in your hand, without your distraction. You could hear the gossip now. You could hear the compliments and their halfhearted meanings, but you were better at putting on a fake smile. “Mm, can—will you give me my ring now?” 

You just wanted to get this over with. Somehow that both broke Jihoon’s heart and brought him back to reality. He had made you this way. It was a fair question. You had endured a couple of hours of this and he had been watching the sun slowly fading behind the trees for the last half hour. “As you wish.” 

The sound of Jihoon clearing his throat brought a hush over the room. You watch as he puts on the first fake smile of the night while opening and closing his fist at his side out of nerves. “Thank you, each of you for spending the evening with us. On behalf of myself and Madame Y/N, we wanted to let you know how deeply grateful we are that you could share this important moment with us.” 

Jihoon was good at lying and yet as you watched him, transfixed on his frustratingly handsome face, you realized you knew he was lying through his teeth. There was something about his body language—the way his voice went up and down in octaves as he went through his well-practiced speech. He had planned places for people to laugh, for them to aww and coo; he was a puppet master working the strings so well, but you could see the strings for what they were just as well as you saw the pain in his eyes. 

“It’s an exciting day.” Smiling along with the happy laughter, Jihoon looks down at this jacket to find you watching him carefully. You are the only one who sees his facade break for a moment as he takes the ring box from his jacket and you are the only one who sees how his fingers tremble with fear as he removes the delicate ring. “A gi—gift for my beautiful betrothed...” 

The stuttering of his words is the first real indication to everyone in the room that Jihoon might be breaking and at the first sign of a muttered word, you aren’t sure why it puts you into motion, but it does. A wave of desire to protect the man in front of you from anything, including anxiety or embarrassment, puts a smile on your face and has your left hand lifted towards Jihoon’s hand. “And what a stunning gift it is, monseigneur. I’m truly honored that I’ll share my life with you.” 

You were a beautiful liar. Jihoon could see and almost smell the lie on you, but he was so thankful to you as he slid the diamond ring on to your finger. Your eyes kept him steadfast and calm as the rest of the room erupted in cheers. Not even the rumble in his ears and tingling at the back of his neck stood a chance in that moment as Jihoon leaned down to press a kiss to the back of your knuckles, keeping his eyes locked with yours. 

There was a shift in the air with that kiss. A breath of hope filled your lungs seeing the look in Jihoon’s eyes. Would things finally change? Could you find a way to love your new home and your soon-to-be husband? 

Fingers wrap around yours as Jihoon laughs under his breath, accepting well wishes for you both. You are thankful for him keeping you grounded, much like your champagne had once been. You find yourself even more thankful when he excuses you both under the excuse that you are tired and he must allow his beautiful fiancée to get her rest. 

“Oh, thank God. I felt like I was going to suffocate—” 

The moment the doors shut behind you and Jihoon, you feel his hand drop from yours, leaving you feeling confused and cold. You watch as he runs his fingers through his hair and rocks his head from left to right as if to release the tension in his neck before he turns his attention back to you with a now familiar disappointed look on his face. 

“Go to your room, Y/N. It’s going to be night soon.” 

This was all you were getting from Jihoon after such a touching moment? Where had the man who had slipped the ring on your finger and looked so deeply into your eyes gone? “I—I’m not tired, ye—” 

“And I don’t care. This isn’t about your ability to sleep. Do as you are told.” It was getting harder to keep himself calm as you scoffed at him. Jihoon could see your lips moving; he could hear the dull mumble of your words, but it was difficult to make out the words. Something else was talking over his senses and Jihoon knew that this wasn’t going to be a good night. “Shut up, for the love of God. I put that fucking ring on your finger so you will obey me! Go to your goddamn room and lock the door, Y/N!” 

Stunned by Jihoon’s outburst, you stumble back on your heels in an attempt to get away, only to feel your balance waver. Fingers wrap tightly around your wrist above your bracelet and you meet Jihoon’s angry eyes, noticing for the first time a slight shift in their color. His once dark brown eyes seem golden as he looks from your face down to the bracelet, his lips curling in anger. “I told you that you drank too much... And what the fuck is this?” 

“Leave me alone, Jihoon.” 

Once again, your voice was soft and too small, almost breaking Jihoon’s heart, but he wasn’t the one that you were dealing with anymore. The jealousy flaring in him wasn’t a normal occurrence; this side of him came with the predator that was ready to run free with the moon rising in the sky. 

“I’ll do what I want since you seem to do the same.” Using just the strength in his fingers, Jihoon breaks the fragile clasp of your bracelet, ignoring your sobbing pleas for him to stop. You both watch as the gold thorns slip from your wrist and clatter to the ground at Jihoon’s feet. “Now, obey me.” 

Tears streaked your cheeks and down your neck as you leaned against the door of your room. Clutching the broken bracelet to your chest, you sob openly, wondering if the sound you are hearing—the wailing growl—is coming from you or your imagination. By the time that you are calm enough to think clearly, the sound is gone. You find yourself alone and numb, with pieces of your home shattered in your hand, much like your heart inside your chest. 

5

It was too bright. There was the smell of copper in his nose and Jihoon’s body felt as if he had been trampled by a stampede of horses. Turning onto his back, he rests his forearm over his eyes and groans, the now too familiar feeling of the forest floor under his bare back. 

Everything had happened too quickly and Jihoon had barely made it off the palace grounds before his body had been torn apart by his curse. It hurt every single time, and every time he could remember it in detail. He supposed that was the point. A curse wasn’t meant to be pleasant. He was being punished. His family was being punished. That was why his muscles were torn fiber by fiber, his bones broken bit by bit, and his skin ripped until nothing human was left of him—only the beast. 

To anyone looking at him, unknowing what they were seeing, Jihoon would look like a bear. A great, large black bear with golden brown eyes that had tormented Aetherial Grove from the moment that he had reached puberty. His mother and father had thought that the man’s curse had been a lie. Perhaps his threat had been that Jihoon almost died during childbirth, but no, it was much worse. Instead, they had witnessed their precious son shifting into a monster and slaughtering half of their palace staff after becoming slightly upset. 

What was worse about Jihoon’s curse was the morning after the beast would take hold of him. Not only would his body feel as if it had been in fact torn apart at the very fiber, but he could remember down to the second what the beast had done. He could see every person he had killed or mauled but he had no way to prevent it. No matter how hard Jihoon tried, every single princess would wander out of the palace at night due to stupidity or curiosity and each time the beast would claim them. 

That was why Jihoon treated you the way he did. That was why he kept you at a distance and made you hate him. He couldn’t kill you if you were never around him. 

“Jihoon.” 

Wincing at Soonyoung’s voice, Jihoon turns on his side and pulls his legs up towards his stomach. Of course he would already be looking for him. He was grateful, but there were days when he wished everyone would just let him vanish or let him die. Was he worth this? 

“Come on. I have clothes... I—you need to come back quickly. Your father—” This wasn’t something that Soonyoung wanted to tell Jihoon. He could already see the realization in the prince’s eyes as he took the clothes from his hand and swallowed the air as if it were water. “I’m sorry. I—” 

“Stop. I don’t want—fuck.” Jihoon’s clothes felt foreign against his skin as he quickly dressed himself, hearing his heart in his ears. This was just one more thing that the curse was taking from him. “Is he—” 

“No. No, he’s just—the doctor says before the day is over. Your mother told me to find you as quickly as possible.”  

Jihoon didn’t need to hear anything else. He didn’t want to hear anything else. He was feeling far too many emotions at once while trying not to let a single one of them bubble to the surface as he walked quickly in front of Soonyoung towards the pair of waiting horses. 

On a good day, any of the palace horses would struggle to trust Jihoon; animals were smarter than normal humans by a long shot. Today was not a good day; every tug at the horses reigns had the animal fighting for control and more terrified of what was on her back. 

“Please… I’m trying!” Yelling wasn’t helping, but Jihoon was swallowing back the bile in his throat as he saw the palace come into view at the treeline. He was so close. He just needed the horse to push forward for a little while longer—and then it happened; perhaps Jihoon had been too sharp with his heel into her flank but the horse had enough and Jihoon felt the wind knocked out of his lungs as his back met the ground. 

You knew something was off at the palace. Everyone was on edge and yet no one would tell you anything. Something had gone from the moment that the engagement party had ended, and then when you had woken up, it was worse. 

You had heard loud yet hushed muttering from every corner that would silence the moment you came into few. You weren’t privy to a single thing and yet the ring on your finger told you that you should be. Weren’t you going to be important to them? Shouldn’t you already be important? 

Outside was better. The palace always felt suffocating to you. From the first day you had walked it, not only had it become your echo chamber—every word reverberating back a thousand times into your brain—but also it had sucked the air from your lungs. You knew that Jihoon preferred you to stay inside, even during the day, but today was one of the days when you didn’t feel much like doing anything he wanted. 

The palace gardens were filled with beautiful things. Flowers, vines, trees—anything you could think of you might find in front of you and yet it made you sad as you thought back to the shards of gold now laying on your vanity. You had tried to piece back together your treasured bracelet only to make it worse. The clasp had held the delicate overlapping thorns together and when Jihoon had broken it, there was nothing left to keep them from falling apart. That was much like your heart as you had sat in front of the vanity and struggled uselessly, watching the bracelet become unrecognizable. There was only the memory of when you had received it now and you would hold it close to your heart and cherish it forever. 

You hadn’t known many boys in Thornwood. Your father was a strict king when it came to his kingdom and his daughter. It had been in your early teenage years when you had finally met Kim Mingyu and he was the first boy your father hadn’t instantly run off. 

Mingyu was the son of a duke. In your father’s eyes, perhaps one day if nothing better came along that might be a suitable match, but it was more than that—you had been happy to just have a friend. It wasn’t until you were older, months before the letter came from Aetherial Grove, that you realized something different might come from your relationship with Mingyu. While you had never considered him in that light before, there was something about the possibility that made you take a step back and really picture it only to have the picture torn in front of your face by a royal letter. 

“So, don’t make fun of it... It’s not perfect; I’ve never done work with gold before.” You had fondly watched Mingyu as he fumbled slightly with the delicate clasp of the bracelet before finally managing to secure it on your wrist. “Maybe it’s not half bad. I just wanted you to have a little piece of home while you—I mean in your new home, Princess.” 

Your piece of home and piece of your best friend was now shattered by someone you were starting to despise. Trying your best to push the angry and painful thoughts from your mind, you walk closer to the edge of the garden, looking out towards the treeline. The forest was truly beautiful. You could understand the appeal and why many wanted to explore it, though you had been forbidden to do so, even on horseback—so why was it that someone was coming out of it now? 

Squinting slightly to the brightness of the morning sun, you tilt your head before shock registers within you as you watch the horse buck hard. Your eyes follow Jihoon as he falls backwards from the horse and lands in the tall grass hidden from your view, causing your heart to sink. “Oh my god, Jihoon!” 

By the time you make it on foot to Jihoon and Soonyoung, the butler is down from his horse and on his knee beside the prince. With your hand at your stomach and tears stinging your eyes, you quickly move to the other side of Jihoon and do the same without regard to your dress or your legs as the ground bites into your knees angrily. “Jihoon? What the hell happened, Soonyoung?” 

You were different than any other woman that had come to Aetherial Grove by far. Even as Soonyoung checked over Jihoon for injuries, being careful not to move him too quickly, he watched you curiously, surprised by your quick arrival. “I—the horse got spooked, I think. She threw him. He’s—there’s blood. Mons— Jihoon?” 

Anxiety and fear had your stomach in knots as you saw the blood from the back of Jihoon’s head on Soonyoung’s fingers. Wrapping your fingers around Jihoon's, you whine his name, watching his eyelids flutter for a moment before he groans in pain and slowly opens his eyes, starting to come to. 

“Fuck—” Attempting to sit up, Jihoon hisses in pain and tightens his fingers around yours before laying back down for a moment. “Stupid fucking mare..." Jihoon knew it wasn’t the horses fault, but the pain radiating through his back and his head made him want to lash out at something. “I need to get to the palace—Father.” 

Using your free hand, you put a light amount of pressure on Jihoon’s shoulder when he tries to sit back up. “Just wait, I—please? You can wait a moment. You are bleeding, Ji—” 

“St—stop coddling me. I’m fine.” Moving his hand to wrap it around your wrist where your bracelet had been the night before, Jihoon lightly draws a circle over your pulse point with his eyes still closed. “‘M fine. I have to get to the palace. Father needs me.” 

Nothing that Jihoon was saying made sense to you, but Soonyoung simply nodded along while gently moving your hand from Jihoon’s shoulder.

“I know. Perhaps—” Timidly meeting your eyes, Soonyoung almost winces before speaking. “I could put the prince on the horse with you. I’ve seen you ride... I think—” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Soonyoung. I can do it alone.” 

“Of course.” 

When you and Jihoon speak up almost at the same time, Soonyoung looks taken aback, his eyes moving from one person to the other before he sighs and settles on the prince. “Let her help. She—Jihoon, she wants to help.” 

You shouldn’t have to help. You shouldn’t be seeing him like this, weak and flustered. He was going to be the king, your king. More importantly, as things were progressing, Jihoon was going to be your husband and now you were having to mother him already. Pathetic. Lee Jihoon was pathetic and unworthy of the throne and you. 

Without another word, Jihoon lets you and Soonyoung help him to his feet as he sways on his feet, unable to keep his balance. Lifting your hand, you carefully touch the back of his head furrowing your brows when Jihoon winces and jerks away from you in pain. “This looks—you should see the doctor, Monseigneur.” 

Your voice had started so strong and yet the more you spoke with Jihoon, your hand loosely in his, your confidence faltered. Sighing under his breath, Jihoon nods and glances towards you as you move to take the reigns of the horse that had bucked him off. With you next to her, there was a calm in the air. There was no fear in her eyes, almost as if she knew that you wouldn’t let anyone, beast or man, harm her. 

“Jihoon. Just—call me Jihoon. I don’t like when you call me Monseigneur in private. You—you’re going to be my wife. It seems odd.” 

While you agreed, you could also remember this same man reminding you that you would obey him. You offer him a gentle smile and a nod as you carefully slip your foot into the stirrup before hosting yourself into the saddle. “Of course—” Swallowing hard, you glance down at your hands on the horn of the saddle, the reigns loosely draped over your fingers. “Jihoon.” You had said his name many times, and even when you were terrified for his wellbeing, saying it now at his request felt different. 

Furrowing his brows tightly, Jihoon could feel the air around him shift. There was something about you. From the moment that you had stepped foot in Aetherial Grove, things were different. It wasn’t just that he was trying to distance himself from you; it was something else and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

With a few muttered curses and a disgruntled groan, Jihoon finds himself seated behind you with his hands hovering over your waist. You could feel the warmth of them through the layers of your dress and even the boning in your corset, so much so that it was difficult to not let a small smirk pull at your lips when you urge the horse to take a step forward and feel Jihoon finally grab ahold of you for stability. 

“May I ask you something?” 

Despite your ability to keep the horse much steadier than he had, Jihoon still found himself wincing with each step. He almost felt every stone under the horse’s hooves as you carefully directed her towards the palace. Swallowing hard to your question and tone, Jihoon chews on his cheek before glancing back to where Soonyoung was following at a moderate distance—almost too far, leaving Jihoon to defend for himself with you. 

“I suppose. Is something wrong?” He knew that was the wrong question to ask the moment it left his mouth. Closing his eyes, Jihoon leans his head back towards the sky and listens to you take in a sharp breath as the horse shifts to the right and towards the palace stables. 

Did he really want to know? You had a laundry list of things that were wrong, but that wasn’t what you wanted to ask right now. “Um, it’s not—well, in a way. I don’t wish to seem unappreciative or spoiled, but—” Sighing under your breath, you furrow your brows, deciding to start over. “What I mean is, I am just wondering if there is something about me you find unpleasant. Perhaps you are unhappy with this arrangement? I’m not attractive or intelligent enough to be your queen and in which case, Monseigneur, perha—” 

“Stop it. What are you—” Unconsciously digging his fingers into your sides at your corset, Jihoon grits his teeth, feeling the frustration rising in him. He knew this was his fault and while he hadn’t planned on changing it, he also didn’t want you as miserable as you seemed right now. “You aren’t unpleasant. I don’t—you aren’t unpleasant to me, Y/N.” 

Straightening your back out of surprise, you take in a deeper breath at the strength of Jihoon’s grip. It wasn’t just that his touch had tightened; it was how he was speaking to you. There was a layer of desperation in his voice, as if he were begging you to understand without truly saying it. “O—okay. I just—” 

“No, just nothing. You are beautiful—the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You are going to make a perfect queen, I have no doubt. I—” Stopping short, Jihoon removes his hands from your waist, realizing that you have brought the horse to a stop. There was no need for him to be touching you anymore, no need for all of the dramatics and yet he couldn’t help himself as you glanced back at him, your eyes low, causing your lashes to shield your gaze from him. Resting his index finger under your chin, Jihoon sighs softly and allows himself a moment to be a man who is truly engaged looking at his future bride. “You are incredible and I hate myself for making you feel so small. One day—” 

Every word was reaching your ears and yet your heart was beating so fast and hard in your chest that you were afraid you might fall from the saddle and perish on the ground. Jihoon’s simple touch had your skin on fire and something lit inside of you—a desire that you had never felt in your life. You had come close to what you suspected had been desire—a brush of lips across yours from Mingyu—but this, Jihoon’s thumb grazing your bottom lip and watching your lips part felt private and precious.  

"Perhaps one day you’ll learn why I am—why I have kept you—” Jihoon was struggling to find the right words and he could see Soonyoung’s panicked face as the man paced a few feet away. “I have to go, Madame. Remember the rules, please. That is all I ask of you.” 

You start to speak and to argue with Jihoon. You want him to finish explaining himself, but he jumps from one topic to the next and then suddenly the back of your knuckles are against his lips. You are left watching Soonyoung help him down from the horse and your eyes follow both until they disappear behind the palace walls. 

Every part of Jihoon’s body was aching. It always was after a night of shifting, but the fall from the horse had only served to make it worse. Brushing his fingers over the back of his head, he and Soonyoung moved through the halls. Jihoon winces in pain, though his mind lingers on you and the range of emotions he had just taken you through. None of this was fair to you. He hoped and prayed that one day he might be able to explain this to you and you understood. He wished with every fiber of his being that he would be able to keep you alive, but the more he started to feel something for you, a longing, the rumbling from the beast trapped inside of him grew louder and more angry with jealousy. 

6

“Mon amour…” 

It was difficult for Jihoon to watch his mother grieve while his father took his last breaths. He was expected to stay strong and on the surface he did. He showed little to no emotion. Jihoon was a rock for his family and especially his mother, but on the inside, the son that his father had raised was devastated as he watched his father pass. He wanted nothing more than to run from the room and lock himself away in his rooms to get rid of the pressure behind his eyes. 

“Come—come here, mon fils.” Beckoning Jihoon closer, his mother sobs softly through the words before taking his hand and bringing it to her heart, using him as the anchor he would have to be. “I—mon fils.” 

Jihoon knew without his mother even saying the words what she was thinking. He knew what came next. The mourning period. The funeral and the burial, but most importantly, he would sooner rather than later now go from crown prince to king. “I know, maman. I’ll take care of it all. You should—I’ll have Jieun help you to your roo—” 

“No! Not yet. I can’t leave him, Jihoon.” 

The tears that Jihoon was trying to keep at bay were harder to push back now as his mother pulled from him and clung to his father’s arm. He didn’t understand that sort of love, though he had witnessed it through them his entire life. He hoped for that sort of love. It made him think of you and how confused you must be not knowing what was truly happening in the palace. 

“Okay, I’m sorry, maman. I know…I won’t make you leave. I’m sorry.” Brushing his lips against the top of her head, Jihoon feels his mothers grief wash through him in how her body trembles. Leaning his head back towards the ceiling as he takes a deep breath to keep his emotions at bay, he nods once and finds Wonwoo by his father’s bed with a solemn look on his face. “Stay with her, please. Until she is ready to leave, you and Jieun. I need—I have to do something.” 

Even stepping out of the room and into the hall, Jihoon could feel a bit of the weight lifting from him but what replaced it was worse. Clenching his fist over his chest, he takes a deep breath as he leans against the wall hidden from prying eyes. Somehow the anger and disappointment that he felt every day were nothing compared to the feeling he was overwhelmed with now as Jihoon tried to force himself forward towards your room. 

Everything had gone deadly silent on the side of the palace where you resided. You knew that you were a bit of distance from the king’s rooms and Jihoon’s but usually you could hear servants in the hallways going about their tasks and tending to the queen, but today there was nothing. It was making your anxiety all that much worse after the morning and your interaction with Jihoon. 

The prince was truly an enigma to you. While you wanted to hate him, and in some ways perhaps you did resent him, you couldn’t find it in your heart to truly allow yourself in your heart to hate Jihoon. There was something inside of him that wanted to be close to you. You had sensed it more than once now and even if the other part of him was pushing you away, the man who had looked deeply into your eyes and taken your breath away with a simple touch had your mind spiraling. 

Sitting at your window, you lean your head back against the wall with a book in your lap. You had started to read it hours ago now, but every word led you back to where you were now—your eyes on the trees as their leaves moved with the wind as it picked up in speed. There was a storm coming. You hated storms. You always had, but back in Thornwood you had distractions and protection. You had run to your father or mother, who would keep you close. You had let Mingyu wrap his arm around you, shielding you from the sounds—as soon as Mingyu enters your mind again, you push him out. Since the previous day's incident with your bracelet, it seemed he wouldn’t leave your thoughts alone. 

The rain starts calm, with large drops that hit your window with dull thuds but quickly, but with the wind getting stronger so does the rain. Wincing, you close your book and recoil slightly from the sounds of the water assaulting your window when a knock at your door startles you even more, causing you to gasp in surprise. 

“Y/N?” 

Jihoon knew he should wait for you to answer the door or at least speak, but the sound of your fear takes away his logic. He had asked for you to lock your door but this was one time he was glad you rarely listened to him when his eyes scanned your parlor to find you with your hands over your head sitting by your window. The pain that he had been feeling from the loss of his father is shifted to the side in place of his concern for you as Jihoon mutters your name and quickly moves across the room and kneels by your side, timidly reaching for your hands. “What’s happened? Why—are you okay?” 

Embarrassment washes over you when you realize that Jihoon is in your room, seeing you cower from a few loud noises. You are certain this isn’t who he or anyone wants for the queen. Though no one truly looked to the queen in a time of perill, you still should be able to lead and command, and here you were meeting Jihoon’s eyes, attempting to feign courage. “O–of course. I’m—nothing happ—” 

Jihoon could tell you were lying as you spoke. He had seen the times you lied and thought to some people you were a decent liar; with him, he could see right through it. Starting to call you out on it to cut you off, he doesn’t have to at the first strike of lightning and boom of thunder. The act you are putting on shatters as Jihoon watches you tightly close your eyes and visibly shake as the sound reverberates around the room. 

Storms had never bothered Jihoon; in fact, in many ways he enjoyed them. The walls of the palace made the rain louder and the thunderclaps seem to last longer, which in turn drowned out the rumbling he heard constantly. Clearly, you didn’t feel the same way. You put on a good face; it was a beautiful one and a strong one, but deep down Jihoon could see how delicate and precious you were. 

“Mon ange…” Muttering under his breath, Jihoon moves his gaze from you to the window, watching the rain angrily coming down to the earth. “I didn’t know you were afraid of storms.” Speaking loud enough for you to hear him now, he slides his hand along the back of your arm towards your elbow, trying to get your attention on him fully. “But I—” 

“You don’t know anything about me, Jihoon.” You didn’t mean to lash out at Jihoon; however, in the moment you felt raw. His words felt like needles and his touch felt foreign, because it was. No matter how much you wanted to be close to him, it was difficult to rely on someone who had spent so long pushing you away and treating you like a virus. “Wha—why are you here?” 

Your reaction to him was valid. While it stung, Jihoon understood where it came from. If Soonyoung had been there, he would agree that he brought this upon himself. Nodding along with you, he sighs and closes his hand, removing it from your arm to give you a bit of space. “I know. I—I apologize for—there’s a lot that you just don't—" Leaning his head back, Jihoon feels your eyes follow him even as he closes his eyes and takes a calming breath, feeling the waves of emotions roll over him again. “I don’t deserve your kindness with how I have treated you. There is a reason behind my actions but it’s not something I can explain to—”  

“Jihoon! You’ve been cruel. You’ve banished me to—” Wincing to another boom of thunder, you whimper and slide from the window seat into the floor next to Jihoon, feeling him shift to sit next to you. It takes a moment for you to regain your composure but he never rushes you; instead, Jihoon stays close without crowding you. “All I know are these rooms and what I have been able to explore of the palace. You won’t let me off the grounds. I try to get close to you and you get angry at me. You—” 

Tears slip down your cheeks similarly to how the rain marks the glass of your window, and all Jihoon can do is watch and listen to you falter, finally speaking through your sobs. In his mind he knew why he had made you do all of these things and why he had pushed you away but to you it made no sense. It wasn’t fair to you, just like it wasn’t fair that you never knew anything that was happening in the palace you now called your home. “There is so much I need to—Y/N… It’s difficult, but please try to understand that I have been attempting to shield you and keep you safe. I know that I have gone about it in a strange way and it’s not fair—” 

“It’s—it’s not fair! What did I do to deserve this? Why did you make me come here, Jihoon? Why me?!” Finally pulling your legs up, you lean forward and rest your forearms on your knees burying your face against your arms, letting out sobs that only get louder with each deep rumble of thunder. 

Jihoon knew that he hadn’t been the one to make you come to Aetherial Grove but he felt responsible enough. You were breaking his heart as your body shook with grief and fear, something he understood all too well. Leaning his head back against the base of the window seat, Jihoon shifts his eyes down and to the side to keep an eye on you, not rushing you as you work through your emotions. Resting his arm over his chest, he carefully reaches for your fingers, circling his thumb over the diamond on your finger. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I—I wish I could fix it. I—my father, he—” Sighing, Jihoon looks away from you, feeling your fingers shift to hold on to him at another crash of thunder as he speaks. “He died a few hours ago. Everything is going to change now.” 

The weight of Jihoon’s words hit you even as the thunder shakes your windows and you lift your head to look at him. That was why everyone was quiet and where everyone had been. Why had no one told you? Were you not important enough to know that the king had passed away? As soon as the anger starts to sink in for you and you think to complain, it passes when you see the look on Jihoon’s face. Yes, you were still upset and a lot of your frustration was with him but he was in pain. How could he not be? Then it dawns on you; he is the prince and a son. He’s not allowed to mourn the same way around certain people. Those people wouldn’t be you. 

“Oh, Jihoon…” 

There is a soft compassion in your voice that almost instantly breaks Jihoon. It reminds him of how he had heard his mother speak to his father on so many occasions. Closing his eyes tightly, Jihoon tries to force himself not to let go, but when you turn towards him and lean against him, his resolve shatters. There were only a handful of times that Jihoon could even remember truly crying. He had been taught that this sort of emotion was weak and dangerous, but with you holding his hand, he didn’t feel like anything could hurt him as he felt it all for the first time that day in waves. 

7

Jihoon had been right; everything did change. There had been a few days of mourning and a moment to breathe before the air and ground had been ripped out from underneath you both. Suddenly your days were filled with wedding preparations and daily meetings with various members of Jihoon’s family as they helped walk you through not only expectations of your wedding but the coronation. 

You had found yourself on more than one occasion wanting to find time to spend with Jihoon only to be whisked away without more than a dozen words spoken between the two of you. Even without the time you wanted, you could still feel the difference after the storm and after you had shared your feelings with Jihoon. He was different. While you could almost see the stress as it surrounded him like a blanket, you could also see the tenderness in his gaze as he looked at you. You could feel the same each time he would lift your hand and kiss the back of your knuckles before apologizing for once again being pulled away to a meeting, leaving you to deal with the wedding on your own. 

“You’ve changed him.” 

There had been very few moments when you had spent an extended period of time alone with the queen, but today was one of them. The two of you watch as Jihoon once again excuses himself and with her words, your cheeks warm as they would be if you were standing too close to the fireplace. Pressing your lips together, you pick up the sample fabrics laid between the two of you when she smiles and reaches for your hand, taking your fingers into her own and squeezing them gently. 

“I don’t know how. And I know it’s been a difficult few months with us.” 

Hearing her voice break, you finally lift your head and meet Jihoon’s mother’s eyes with concern, sliding your hand into hers and offering her comfort. You watch as she smiles sadly and tilts her head, looking down at your hand as she adjusts the ring on your finger, remembering when Jihoon’s father had put it on her hand so many years ago. 

“He’s difficult, I know. We are difficult. I’m not proud of how—” Shaking her head, she sniffs back her tears along with her words, choosing not to go on with them. “I hope that you can grow to love him. That you will learn to love one another. He’s so special, Y/N. You are special; I feel it.” 

There was so much left unsaid. Not only from the queen but Jihoon. It seemed that almost everyone in the palace would skirt around things, keeping just enough information from you as if it would keep you pliant. Sighing, you tilt your head and smile at the woman watching her fingers adjust your ring with precision and care. “Thank you, Madame. I haven’t… I—well, if anything, I fear I’ve frustrated him more than anything. He just pushes—” Realizing that you are starting to complain about her son, your soon-to-be husband, and the soon-to-be king, you swallow hard and put a smile back on your face. “I will improve on my ability to adapt and obey my husband.” 

It wasn’t much of a secret—your discomfort and Jihoon’s seeming disinterest in you and your feelings. While Jihoon’s mother knew that most of what Jihoon had been doing had kept you healthy and alive, it still was a lot for you to handle. You had come from a completely different kingdom to a place where you were expected to follow a new set of rules, and you had your life turned upside down in the matter of days. Now just a few months later, it had happened again; you were being sent spiraling down the aisle. 

“Mm, and I’m sure over time things will get easier... for the both of you.” 

You wished that the queen would say more. It was always like she wanted to tell you something, give more advice, and yet she’d swallow it every single time before changing the subject back to the wedding or the coronation. You were left looking over the fabrics in your lap as she spoke softly enough for you to almost drown her out, leaving her voice a dull echo in the room as she planned much of it for you with Jieun. 

Jihoon was growing tired of meetings already and he knew for the rest of his life this is what he had to look forward to. Sitting at the head of the table, he let the paper rest between his fingers as he pretended to look over it as much as he pretended to be listening to his cousin speak about the same topic for the last twenty minutes. None of this was important. He had more important things—in his opinion—to be doing, and you had looked so disappointed when he had once again been pulled away from you and the wedding planning. 

It wasn’t as if he had wanted this. He didn’t want to be listening to budget adjustments and which kingdoms owed Aetherial Grove what. He knew most of them owed something, and to him it didn’t matter. Aetherial Grove had more than enough to endure for centuries at this point, and he knew why. He dealt with the backlash of that deal almost every night, and every night that he wasn’t getting his body torn apart, he was thrashing in his bed with nightmares. 

“So it might do us well to seek out some repayment from at least thirty percent of these—” 

“Why? Where did you find that number?” 

It seemed that others in the room found it surprising that Jihoon had actually been following along, with how he had seemed to be staring off into the table. When he spoke, it caused several of the men in the room to shift uncomfortably and to straighten their backs, realizing their crown prince, the man they would call king in just a matter of two weeks, was listening to every single word despite him wanting to or not. 

“I—from my research, Ji—Monseigneur. It would benefit us. There is a royal wedding in less than a week and a coronation. I—I’m not certain that you understand how expensive—”

“I understand that you all seem to think I’m an idiot. You think that because I am new to this particular station and not yet fully seated that you can get by with whatever you wish; that won’t happen.” Pushing the papers from in front of him, Jihoon moves to stand, watching many of the others in the room do the same, but mostly Soonyoung and Wonwoo, who are ready to do what he commands. “Leave the other kingdoms alone. If the wedding and coronation are so expensive that you have to find ways to subsidise the budget, we can cut back on both. There is no need for all the fanfare. I doubt Madame Y/N would much disagree with me on this. Neither of us need some grand affair—” 

“It’s for neither of you! It’s for your kingdom, Monseigneur!” Having kept quiet for most of the meeting, Jihoon’s eldest uncle finally leans forward and raises his voice, causing the rest of the room to fall silent. “As for what Madame Y/N wants, I don’t care and I doubt many others do either. We appreciate her presence and she is a requirement, but she doesn’t get a say in this. You barely get a say in this. You aren’t king yet. We might have money to make this all work, but you need to learn the ins and outs of your kingdom before you go about throwing around your ego and making big decisions.” 

The room suddenly felt smaller; too small, as Jihoon stared at the older man, feeling his chest tightening. He knew there would be push and pull as he took his rightful place as king and knew there would be those who would think to know better than him; he just hadn’t expected it to be those who had held his father in such high regard. “I care.” 

Jihoon’s voice is smaller than intended at first, causing his uncle to furrow his brows and lean forward to hear him better, but the second time that Jihoon speaks, he has the man and other’s sitting back in their seats. “I care, what Y/N wants! You can have your wedding and your coronations, but you will not speak about her like that again. You won’t speak to me like that. This meeting is over, gentlemen. I have a fiancée to see to.” 

8

There were only 36 hours left before you would officially be Jihoon’s wife. Invitations had been sent out and guests were beginning to arrive from surrounding kingdoms, including your own. You had been thrilled when your mother and father had arrived and you had been able to see the pride in their eyes as you walked them through your new home. 

It was easy to see that the benefit of your dowry was making a difference for them. You could see the difference mostly in your father. The stress that you had almost grown accustomed to seeing etched on his face was gone,replaced with happiness as he held your mother close and complimented every detail of the palace. You had felt the most sense of pride yourself when Jihoon had finally made time to meet your parents and put on his best face. 

Over the time since his father had passed away, Jihoon had changed dramatically. You could see it; everyone could, and yet there was still something so distant about him that you were trying to figure out. He still wouldn’t allow you the freedom you longed for and still kept you at a distance that left you cold and left your heart slowly splintering. 

“Of course you are welcome to visit Y/N, and she—perhaps she could visit you more often.” 

Jihoon’s words have your parent’s preening, your mother swooning over him and your father in awe, but to you, you can sense that he’s trying to get you out of the palace. You aren’t even sure how you know, but you do, and it’s even more obvious to you when Jihoon meets your eyes and stumbles over his words before dismissing himself to get back to important matters. 

“I—I’ll see you later for din—dinner.” The disappointment was evident in your eyes and Jihoon had to get away from it. You saw right through him and sometimes he was terrified that you saw more than he wanted. Did you know more than you let on? What if you knew about his curse? Would you hate him? Hate that you were marrying a murderer? Barely brushing his lips against your fingers, Jihoon blows out a panicked breath and slips out of the room. Meeting the eyes of a tall and broad man, he nods in his direction without asking who he is or why he is there. Instead, he moves quickly down the hall and out of sight, not hearing as Wonwoo announces the arrival of another guest. 

“Madame. Monsieur Kim Mingyu, Duke of Leressair, has arrived.” 

You aren’t sure why you hadn’t expected Mingyu to accept your invitation, but seeing him for the first time in so many months has your heart in your throat. Quickly standing, you smooth your dress and listen as your father greets Mingyu, ushering him into the room towards the sofas. 

“Thank you.” Unable to keep his smile from growing too wide as he looks at you, Mingyu takes in a deep breath and lets it out a bit unsteadily. He almost hadn’t accepted the invitation but the desire to see you at least one more time was too great and if it had to be like this, then so be it. “Madame—” 

“Stop it.” The playful smile on Mingyu’s lips as he uses your title makes your stomach tighten even as he reaches for your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips and kissing them gently, managing to linger just a second too long. “Don’t call me that, please.” 

“Mm, fine. It’s wonderful to see you, Y/N. You look—” Mingyu lets out another breath, trying not to overstep but it had always been difficult when it came to you and he wasn’t sure if your prince was in the room or not. “Congratulations on your wedding. I’m glad you invited me. Care to, uh—wanna show me around?” 

It was a bold attempt at getting you alone so you could talk freely, but it worked. You knew that your parents trusted Mingyu and you had no reason not to, despite your own heart beating out of your chest as you looked at him now. Offering him your hand, you smile as Mingyu carefully guides it through his arm to rest on his forearm before letting you lead the way. 

The moment that you and Mingyu step out of the room, you know you aren’t alone. You can feel eyes behind you and hear the muffled steps drawing your eyes over your shoulder as you frown at Wonwoo. “I—Wonwoo… I’m fine. I am just showing him around the palace. I don’t need a sitter.” 

“Not my intention, Madame. Simply following protocol... You would rather I—” 

“I would rather you didn’t follow me. Please? I want to talk to my friend. If Jihoon needs me, I’m certain any one of you can find me. I am not difficult to find and Mingyu is very obvious.” 

It was clear that Wonwoo wasn’t sure about following your wishes, his eyes moving over Mingyu as the taller man offers him a simple smile, almost feigning innocence, letting you speak for him. “If that’s what you want, Madame...” Wonwoo had no reason not to like Kim Mingyu, but he already felt uneasy with him here. 

Sighing, clearly exasperated, you tug on Mingyu’s arm and lead him forward. Nodding at Wonwoo, you watch the steward stay where he is, though his eyes follow you until you are out of sight. 

“Is it always like this? You aren’t allowed to just—I don’t know, exist?” 

Finally, someone understood how you felt without you having to sit down and explain it to them. Pouting up at Mingyu, you turn towards the gardens and sigh under your breath. So often since you had arrived in Aetherial Grove, you had felt like a prisoner in a fancy cell and this was one of the only times you felt like you had a semblance of freedom. “You have no idea, Mingyu. I—I shouldn’t speak poorly of my new family.” 

“It’s between us, Y/N, as always. Your secrets are my secrets. That hasn’t changed, dove.” 

The pet name slipping from Mingyu’s lips not only has your cheeks burning but also a bit of shame and excitement rushing through you as you lead him further into the gardens away from the palace to enjoy the privacy. The name was nothing romantic or anything you should be ashamed of, but it could be misunderstood. It had come simply from your wish to be as free as a bird all of your life. You had sat in your window and Mingyu had caught you so many times staring off at the sky and daydreaming that the name had stuck when he had asked you if you were going to fly away like a dove. 

“No, perhaps not, but it feels like it’s been so long since I’ve seen you now. Things are complicated here.” Sliding your hand along Mingyu’s arm, your fingers catch his briefly, feeling him almost attempting to keep your hand in his before you find your hand back at your side. Looking down at the flowers, you sigh under your breath, feeling Mingyu’s eyes on you, forever patient as always, though his eyes move along your face and down your body, studying you. “I’m not allowed to leave the palace and there’s only so much I am able to do inside. It’s suffocating. I–” 

Mingyu watches you laugh; though he can tell the laugh is without humor, it’s almost sad, causing him to furrow his brows and move closer to you. Wrapping his fingers around your wrist where your bracelet once sat every day while you lived in Thornwood, he gently taps at your pulse point and smiles at you, almost feeling your stress flowing through your body as you stand amongst the various flowers. “You what? Seriously, tell me. I’m not going to run to the prince and tell him. I don’t even know what he looks like. I’ve only heard stories.” 

You had seen Jihoon look at Mingyu as he had walked in, but clearly they hadn’t been introduced; you’d have to fix that at some point. Mingyu was so important to you, and Jihoon was and would remain important. There was no ending marriage for someone like you. This was your one and only chance, and it terrified you to look at the person who you thought you were going to be spending that chance with, seeing the kindness in his eyes that you so rarely got from Jihoon. 

“I feel like a prisoner sometimes.” Grimacing, you whine and tug your wrist from Mingyu, almost hating that he’s touching you when you feel so gross about your own words. You shouldn’t feel that way about the people who were giving you so much and giving your kingdom even more. They were saving your people and they hadn’t truly done anything wrong to you. It was more about how you felt, about how your heart felt. “I’m awful.” 

“Stop, no, you not. You aren’t happy, Y/N. I could tell the moment I laid eyes on you.” Sliding his hands into yours, Mingyu turns you towards him and leans down to make you meet his eyes, watching you pout at him still. "Dove, you want me to steal you? I’ll do it. I’ll run away with you in a heartbeat.” 

It was a cute joke and a sweet dream. Laughing under your breath, you glance away from Mingyu even as your reaction makes his smile falter. He knew you wouldn’t accept it. You were a child of responsibility and duty. This marriage was your duty and you wouldn’t run away from it, no matter how much Mingyu tried to convince you otherwise. He wished with all of his heart that he had made you a ring instead of a bracelet and he wished even more right now that you were still wearing the bracelet. 

“Well, the offer stands. Forever.” Lifting your hand slightly to look at your ring, Mingyu tries to judge it harshly but even he has to admit its fitting for your beauty. At least Jihoon had done that right, even if he wasn’t keeping you happy. “I wish—it’s stupid of me, but I wish you were wearing your bracelet. I’m sure the prince won’t allow it though.” 

The mention of your bracelet causes even the slightest smile on your lips to fade quickly as you think about the shards of gold sitting on your vanity. Lowering your eyes to the ground, you shake your head and lick your lips before trying to think of the best lie you can, not wanting to hurt Mingyu anymore than you have to. “I—no. I’m sorry. It wouldn’t be appropriate.” 

Shivering in the cold, Jihoon narrows his eyes as he watches you move deeper into the garden on another man’s arm. Jihoon trusted you. There wasn’t really any reason for him to be concerned until this Kim Mingyu had shown up at the palace. The man hadn’t even been on his radar until Wonwoo had found him and let him know that you and Mingyu had decided to walk alone. That on its own didn’t have Jihoon where he was now, casually keeping his distance as he listened to you laugh softly at the man’s words and seemingly swoon over him; it was more how he was looking at you. 

You seemed oblivious to it while not immune to Mingyu’s charm. That wasn’t your fault; you were a woman whose betrothed had been pushing her away for months, and now a man you had known for years was showing you kindness and interest. The entire display was enough to make Jihoon’s stomach twist with something he wasn’t used to feeling on his own without the beast provoking it: jealousy. 

“No—I, Y/N… I completely understand. It really wouldn’t be. I just miss seeing it on your arm, though—” Laughing softly, Mingyu guides you by your wrist towards one of the concrete benches to sit down so he can do the same next to you, not realizing that Jihoon is watching so closely from the shadows. “It’s nothing compared to how pretty you are. It’s really wasn’t up to par with what I can make now. I’ve been practicing; in fact, I made you something. You know, as a wedding gift.” 

As always, Mingyu has your heart racing and your face on fire with his compliments. Shaking your head, you try to argue with him, but at the mention of a gift, you whine his name and draw your shoulders up towards your cheeks in an attempt to hide from his attention. 

“Now, why are you doing that? It’s nothing big, just a little thing, Dove. Here…”

Clenching his fist at his side, Jihoon watches Mingyu take the small bag from his jacket as he feels the hair at the back of his neck stand up much like the hackles of an animal sensing danger. He didn’t like this man. Mingyu didn’t know boundaries. Where did he get off calling you Dove and giving you gifts days before you were getting married? You were Jihoon's... Taking a deep breath and letting it out under his breath, it comes out more of a growl than a breath as he watches you take the necklace from the pouch. You liked it. Your heart was racing. Jihoon could hear it from here—the beast could hear it. It pissed Jihoon off just as much as it pissed off the beast. 

“Oh my god, Mingyu. It’s gorgeous. You really have gotten so good at this.” Tracing the golden bird in your palm, you frown slightly, feeling a pang of guilt over how much you like the necklace. You shouldn’t accept it, and yet it feels like a piece of home to replace the bracelet that Jihoon had ruined and taken from you. Taking a deep breath, you hold it for a second before nodding and letting it out sharply, making up your mind. You’d accept it and wear it. Jihoon didn’t have to know. “Will you put it on for me?” 

You were too naive, and it made Jihoon want to be sick as Mingyu grinned, taking the necklace from you to do as you asked. Of course he would put the necklace on for you. It didn’t mean the same thing to Mingyu as it did to you, but how could you know that? You were just a stupid little girl with her head in the clouds while Jihoon could read all the signs that Mingyu was throwing at you. 

“So beautiful and it looks perfect on you, Y/N.” Trailing his fingers along your neck even after he’s clasped the necklace, Mingyu leans his head around to look at you, watching you smile at his compliment. You were perfect and somehow you looked even more perfect with that necklace on. “Promise you’ll try to wear it whenever you can? Remember me just a little bit, even when you’re a fancy queen?” 

Leaning back slightly as you laugh, you roll your eyes to Mingyu’s teasing, trying to tell him you’d try only to stop laughing or smiling at all when he presses his lips to your cheek closer to your jaw. “I—yes. I—we should go inside, Mingyu.” 

The kiss was enough to make Jihoon move, his hands now securely in his pockets as he put on a fake friendly face, moving through the garden as if searching for you. “Oh, there you are, mon ange. That’s a pretty necklace.” Lifting his brow, Jihoon lets out a breath through his nose, meeting Mingyu’s eyes as he still speaks to you, watching you shift to sit on your own away from Mingyu. “Who’s this?” 

You hadn’t expected Jihoon to look for you. He never really had before and he had never, to your knowledge, called you anything other than your name or your title. Why was he calling you angel now? Putting your hand over the necklace in question, you feel your heart attempting to beat out of your chest as Mingyu smiles and half smirks up at Jihoon realizing who he is. “I—thank you. This is Kim Mingyu. He’s—” 

“Monseigneur, I presume? Kim Mingyu, Duke of Leressair. I’m an old friend—” 

“I see and you presume correctly, Monsieur.” Turning his attention from Mingyu, Jihoon presses his lips together before offering you his hand, waiting for you to take it. “We should prepare for dinner. Allow our guests time to do the same. I have something I want to speak to you about anyway.” 

Jihoon’s eyes never leave you, even as you seem to struggle with your decision. Finally watching you put your hand in his, his lips pull up into something that resembles the half smirk that Mingyu had given him before he takes a step back, helping you to your feet. “We will see you at dinner, Monsieur. Say goodbye, darling.” 

Between the feeling of Jihoon’s hand on yours and his intense gaze, you feel almost faint. This was different from what you were used to. You had never seen him act like this before, almost possessive over you—was that what this was? A show of dominance? Glancing back over your shoulder as Jihoon guides you away from Mingyu, you furrow your brows and whisper your goodbye to your friend as he offers you a soft smile and a nod. 

“I’ll see you at dinner, Y/N.” 

Once inside the palace, the feeling of Jihoon’s hand around yours causes your anxiety to spike even higher. You find your mind racing as he leads you silently down the hall towards your rooms before finally stopping to push the door open and leading you inside and dropping your hand. Glancing around the room, you avoid his eyes and move towards one of your sofas when he finally speaks, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Don’t go anywhere with him alone again, and I—” Struggling with what he knows he wants to say and what he has to say, Jihoon moves closer to you, carefully touching your arms, feeling you jump slightly. You were afraid of him. That was good and yet it still broke his heart. “You can’t wear this. Do you know how it would look?” Unable to see how your composure breaks, Jihoon carefully undoes your necklace, bringing the delicate chain into his hand along with the dove charm, leaving your neck bare. 

Twice now he had taken home away from you. Tears slowly slide down your cheeks as you watch Jihoon move towards your vanity to lay down the necklace near the broken bracelet. You watch as he takes in a deep breath, picking up a piece of gold furrowing his brows at it, though you don’t know what he is thinking; it just serves to anger you more. “Could you leave, please?” 

He deserved that. Your anger and the contempt in your voice. Gently putting the broken piece of the bracelet back with the others, Jihoon sighs and glances over his shoulder at you, seeing the tears drip from your face. Was this possibly worse than killing you? He hated both situations, but he also hated seeing that man’s hands on you and his lips against your skin. “No, not yet. I—” 

“Why not? There’s nothing to say or do, Jihoon. I just—please leave me alone.” 

The room seems too small as you close your eyes and wrap your arms around yourself, knowing that Jihoon is watching you so closely. You listen between your sobs to hear him leave the room but it never happens; instead, you open your eyes to find him sitting on the arm of your sofa, his eyes on his hands as he turns the ring on his index finger, slowly waiting for you to calm down. 

“Do you hate me?” 

Another valid question for you to ask and yet again it broke Jihoon’s heart. You were leaving jagged pieces in his heart with almost every word and all Jihoon could do was shake his head and hope for a way to make this better. “Of course not. Y/N, I—we are getting married; how could I hate you?” 

“Marriage and your ability to care about someone don’t go hand in hand, Jihoon. You could hate me and tolerate me as your wife.” Wiping your cheeks free of tears even as more fall, you move past him, feeling his eyes follow you. “As long as I can stand by your side as a decent queen and provide an heir, I’ve met my purpose. I just need to keep my mouth shut and my legs open, right? I’ve been told it enough tim—”

“Jesus, fucking Christ, Y/N! Who told you that? It wasn’t me.” Moving to his feet, Jihoon lifts his hands as you seem to recoil at his raised voice. He didn’t want to scare you again, but you were spiraling and going off on a tangent once again. “I have never once said—” 

“You told me to shut my mouth the night of our engagement party.” 

Jihoon’s brows furrow, his words dying in his mouth before he’s finished when you speak over him. He barely remembered that night at the party. He had made it out of the palace and off the grounds before shifting; he remembered more of what had happened in the forest and how the beast had killed every animal in its path. “What? I don’t—” 

“‘Shut your mouth, Y/N and obey me.’ You said that you put the ring on my finger and that I would obey you. Is that what you want from me now, Jihoon? Because that’s what everyone else seems to think I should do.” Looking down at the ring on your finger, you furrow your brows at it, having grown to hate it. “Provide you children and obey you, day in and day out. Even if you yell at me and tell me to lock myself in my rooms for the rest of my fucking life.” Sniffing back tears hard, you defiantly meet Jihoon’s eyes even as you see the shock and pain behind them as you speak. “I hope I never give you a child.” 

While he wasn’t going to say it to you now, Jihoon hoped the same. He was terrified that he would put something like himself inside of you. Not only would he curse another person by them being born like him, but he’d put that thing inside of you. But it wasn’t the fact that he agreed with you that it hurt Jihoon, but that you’d say it out of anger. You hated him that much. “Perhaps you won’t. Time will tell, won’t it?” Running his fingers through his hair, Jihoon shakes his head and glances towards your window, knowing it was getting closer to dinner time. He wanted dinner over and done with as soon as possible. Everyone tucked away safely in their beds. “Everything I do, I do it for you.” 

Wrapping your arms around you at Jihoon’s words, you tilt your head, feeling a pang of resentment towards the man in front of you. “So you say so very often with no explanation. Please… leave.” Your eyes follow Jihoon as he stands and moves towards you, stopping by your side to look at you, though you turn your head away, not wanting to look at him. You only feel his hand take yours and feel his lips brush over your knuckles as always before you head the door open and close to your room, leaving you alone. 

9

"Oh, terribly so. Until she was 10 years old, I believe.” 

Hiding your face with your hands, you whine as your father tells yet another story to embarrass you hearing Jihoon’s mother coo at how adorable you are. Across the table from you, Mingyu grins at your reaction, using his napkin to wipe his lips as he furrows his brows and nods along. 

“She’s still afraid of storms, Your Majesty. She may have hid it well, but up to the day she left for this—" Choosing his words wisely, Mingyu nods at the Queen, shooting her a bright smile. “Beautiful kingdom, she would tremble and simply shut down at the first rumble of thunder. I’m sure it hasn’t changed. You would have to wrap her up in a blanket and keep her sheltered until it passed or she’d suffer too much.” 

Mingyu was sharing too much. Shifting a bit uncomfortable in your chair, you reach for your wine once again when Jihoon takes it from you, taking a sip of his own and then offering it to you as he hums in appreciation. 

“Mm, Monsieur Mingyu is right. I found my darling Y/N during the most recent storm, after—” Furrowing his brows, Jihoon clears his throat and chooses not to talk about his father, instead he smiles and shakes his head, looking over at you. “Anyway, she made it through just fine with someone simply by her side. She’s much stronger than some give her credit for.” 

You didn’t need Jihoon to stick up for you. You couldn’t shake the feeling of him trying just a little too hard, asserting his dominance a bit too much. By the end of the dinner, you find yourself feeling drained between his need to hover and Mingyu’s need to meet him at every level. At the beginning of the afternoon you hadn’t noticed it, their preening, but it had become all too clear by dessert as you hoped and prayed for dinner to come to an end. 

Jihoon wanted nothing more than to walk you to your room for the night. He had watched you stare at your cake, your fork slicing off thin bits that you never ate until most of it lay in a pile on your plate while others laughed and drank around the table out of celebration. They were all distracted; well, most of them. He had noticed Mingyu watching you as well. He knew that the other man had realized how distracted you were and even now, as the dinner was wrapping up, he was lingering. 

“Y/N…” 

“Mon ange.” 

The two voices pull your attention from your destroyed dessert and up to where Jihoon stands to your right and Mingyu just a bit further to your left. When had everyone else left? Were you that distracted? Dropping your fork, you mutter your apologies, allowing the servant to take the plates from in front of you, meeting her worried look before you start to slide your chair back, feeling Jihoon ease it from you, making it easier to stand up. 

“Are you alright? I—perhaps we could take a walk?” 

Mingyu was being bold and right in front of Jihoon. You could feel the heat from Jihoon’s body as he steps closer to you, meeting the larger man’s eyes over your shoulder. Before he is able to speak, you remember what Jihoon said in your room, and you shake your head and offer Mingyu a sad, genuine smile. “I’m so tired. Rain check? I just want to go to bed.” 

“I’ll get you to your room, Y/N.”

The tension between you and Jihoon was evident even as he guided you out of the dining hall and deeper into the palace with his hand on your lower back. He felt too warm, too close. You were still angry at him and you didn’t want him to walk you anywhere. 

“I can make it the rest of the way myself.” 

Rolling his eyes, Jihoon sighs your name under his breath, grabbing your arm at your elbow when you try to walk away from him. This wasn’t the time to be frustrating him. It was too dark outside and though he could feel that he might not shift tonight, he was close. The beast was right under his skin, causing his emotions to be heightened. “I said I’d get you to your room. So, please... stop acting like this. Are you just trying to get away from me so you can run back to your friend?” The moment the words leave Jihoon’s mouth, he feels regret wash over him, especially when he sees the look on your face. “Shit, I—no, wait. I’m sorry, Y/N!” 

With Jihoon, he really did take one step forward and two steps back. With those words spoken aloud, he took five massive steps back and he might as well have punched you in the stomach. Tugging your arm free from his grip, feeling his fingers try to grip you tightly, possibly leaving a bruise, you find yourself not caring as you sniff back your tears and start walking quickly away from him as he tries to apologize. “Why? Why are you sorry? Because you said it, or because you think I—” Grimacing, unable to even say the words, you shake your head and throw up your hands out of anger. 

Jihoon finds himself walking behind you, his fingers working through his hair out of nerves as he tries to keep up and think of how to fix this. “No! Wait—I, yes! I’m sorry because I said it! I didn’t mean it!” Stopping quickly when he reaches your door to watch it be slammed in his face, Jihoon lets out a loud, frustrated breath as he leans his forehead against it and presses his palms next to his head. “I know you wouldn’t! Please let me in and talk to me. Don’t—come on! We are getting married in a day!” 

Resting your head back against the door, you feel fresh tears stream down your cheeks and along your neck as Jihoon knocks on your door, begging you to speak to him and to forgive him. You knew when you were getting married and you were beginning to wonder if you should take Mingyu’s proposal up and run away with him. As quickly as the thought passes through your mind, a wave of guilt rushes through you, pain hitting your chest and stomach and causing you to sob loud enough that Jihoon’s knocks stop. You wonder if he has left, but his soft voice a moment later tells you that he hasn’t. 

“Y/N… I hate myself for this. For—for making you feel like this. I’m a curse to everyone around me. D-do you—” Sliding down the door, Jihoon sits on the floor against it, knocking his head back against the wood before reaching up to rest his head in his hands. “If you want to leave me, I’d let you. I would tell them you—I don’t know. I’d make up something, if that’s what you want.” 

Silence. You aren’t even listening to him. Jihoon feels like a fool for even trying to speak to you. You clearly hate him more than anyone else in the world, but then that feels impossible because no one could hate him more than himself. Sitting in his own self-loathing, Jihoon pushes his thumb against his palm hard, wondering if he should give up when he hears the lock of your door turn and feels the surface behind him shift, leaving him sitting on his own as he looks up at you from the floor. 

“Y/N…” 

Taking a step back, you let Jihoon get to his feet, his hands quickly trying to wipe the dust from his pants so that he looks somewhat more presentable before he moves into the room once you let him. 

“We have a duty, Jihoon.” 

"No, I know th—” 

“Let me speak.” No other woman had ever spoken to Jihoon like you did or made him feel this way. You commanded the space, even with tears drying on your cheeks and a look of heartbreak in your eyes. “I came here for Thornwood and I’m not a coward. I said I would marry you and that’s what I intend on doing, but things have to change.”

Change terrified Jihoon. Swallowing hard, he tilts his head, watching you appraise him and his reaction. He wanted to give into you so easily and give you everything you wanted, but was it that easy? The beast would kill you the first chance it got. “Y/N…” 

“Things have to change, Jihoon! I’m not your prisoner. I’m not a doll that you can lock away in some room and play with when you see fit. I’m going to be the queen.” 

You were right; he knew that. Grimacing even as he nodded, Jihoon watches your expression soften. He wasn’t completely giving into this; there would still need to be some safe guards put up, but perhaps he could allow some changes for your happiness. “Okay, but we have to compromise. I still don’t want you going out at night, ever.” 

It takes everything in you not to lash out at Jihoon; it’s only the look in his eye—a genuine look of concern for you—that makes you even consider that he’s not just trying to keep some power over you. “I—fine. I don’t get it, but I won’t go outside after dark.” 

Relief washes over Jihoon and he nods along with your words, taking a step closer to you, happy when you don’t instantly move away from him. “There are things in the dark that you don’t understand, Y/N. I don’t want you hurt, or worse. So that’s the only thing I ask for right now.” 

To you, it sounded like ghost stories and fairy tales once again getting the best of the imaginations of the residents of Aetherial Grove; you just hadn’t expected it to be their prince who fell for them. You didn’t expect those stories to make him pale and to look sick to his stomach as he reached for your hands, wanting you close. “I—okay. They’re just stories, Jihoon, but I’ll stay inside at night. I said I would. Stop worrying so much. We have enough to worry about besides ghost stories.” 

Ghosts? If only that were the worst of Jihoon’s troubles. He had never seen a ghost in his life. He didn’t question their existence. Perhaps they did exist and wandered another realm, but in his world he had bigger things to worry about. Offering you a smile, Jihoon nods and lifts your hands bringing them to his lips kissing both of your hands and resting his lips against your left for a moment longer before taking a step back. “You’re right, darling.” 

10

You had always been told that dream weddings were made for princesses. So why was it on your own wedding day that you didn’t feel like it was your own wedding? You were in your dress, your flowers in your hand, as you stood next to your father in front of the large church doors, listening to the beautiful music, but it was as if you were watching someone else get married. 

“Ready, honey?” 

Had you said yes? You couldn’t remember, but it didn’t matter. You were putting on a smile and avoiding the eyes of everyone as you walked down the aisle, just attempting not to trip. One, two, three, four, five, six—by the time you reached the front of the church, you had counted 79 flower petals that had been dropped by one of your youngest cousins. They were very pretty petals. What did petals lining a wedding aisle mean again? Luck? Fertility? Transformation? A bond between families? 

“My wife and I.” 

Your father was speaking and offering your hand to someone else. You were getting married. Lifting your eyes, you meet Jihoon’s feeling, and your heart starts to beat frantically as it all seems to set in for you. The air settles around you and his hands on yours ground you bringing you back to reality. 

“You okay?” 

What did he want you to say? You could barely find words to speak so instead you smile and nod, watching him do the same as the priest continues the ceremony. You find yourself transfixed on the man in front of you, every piece of hair in place, his handsome smile, and his beautiful brown eyes. 

“Yes, I do.” 

He does? What does he—- 

“Madame Y/N Y/L/N of Thornwood, do you take this man, Monseigneur Lee Jihoon, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

The room had become deathly silent. You could hear a pin drop as they waited for your answer and all you could truly hear was your heart and unsteady breath as Jihoon kept his eyes on you. The words sit on the tip of your tongue until Jihoon’s fingers gently squeeze yours, giving you the confidence you need to continue and gaining a happy whispered cheer from the audience watching. 

“Ye—yes, I do.” 

Blowing out a breath, playfully. Jihoon smiles when you finally do speak, feeling the tension release from your fingers. You were nervous and that was making him even more nervous. You seemed like you were in another world until he finally brought you back and now that he had you and the priest was delivering the last of his lines, Jihoon felt like he could either throw up or like his chest could explode from being overwhelmed. 

“I now pronounce you man and wife. Monseigneur, you may kiss your bride.” 

His bride. His. He had never kissed you before, no more than the back of your knuckles but that hadn’t meant that he hadn’t thought about it or dreamt of it. Swallowing hard, Jihoon nods and takes one hand from yours to cup your jaw gingerly as he leans forward, his lips resting mere centimeters from yours, letting you decide to do the rest. 

Why had he stopped? Whining under your breath, feeling Jihoon’s breath against your lips, you furrow your brows and close the distance, pressing your lips against his for the first time hearing the audience burst into a loud cheer seeing the first kiss shared by a husband and wife. You had shared a kiss with Mingyu before; it had been small, just his lips brushing against yours before you had pulled away, but this was different. You could feel Jihoon smile against your lips. You could almost taste him before he pulled away, leaving you breathless and stunned at the alter next to him. 

It shouldn’t surprise you or Jihoon that the rest of the reception would be a whirlwind of well wishes and unsolicited advice. You find that once again your only saving grace is the man standing beside you, his hand linked with yours and his thumb rubbing small circles on the inside of your wrist as he carries most of the conversations. 

“Mm, no. We won’t be going anywhere. We have the coronation set for the middle of next week and there is so much to be done here. I will enjoy my bride at home. I’m hoping to spend as much time with her as possible.” 

You find yourself wondering how much of Jihoon’s words are true. Would he spend extra time with you? What would tonight be like? The idea of your wedding night has your stomach in knots and Jihoon tugging you tighter to his side, feeling your fingers closing around his. 

“I—mm, no, thank you. We’re fine. Really, we won’t travel often. If Y/N wants to travel—” 

Why wouldn’t Jihoon travel? That had come up time and time again. He was ready to send you back home to visit your parents. You two would be going nowhere after your wedding and now he was offering to let you travel without him? Furrowing your brows, you look up at your husband finally meeting his eyes, making him laugh a bit awkwardly and excuse you both as he grabs two glasses of champagne, leading you towards one of the windows, letting you rest against the sill. 

“This is exhausting. Are you alright?” 

Gladly accepting the glass, you hum between sips before tilting your head and looking out over the crowd that was luckily getting smaller as the afternoon crept by. “Fine. Ready to be alone. This is just overwhelming.” 

Nodding into his own glass, Jihoon lets his eyes move around the room before they land on Mingyu, who nods in acknowledgement before looking away. He was ready for everyone to leave as well, ready for them to go back to where they belonged—especially Kim Mingyu. “It’ll be done soon and you can head to bed.” 

Pausing mid-drink, you glance up at Jihoon before lowering your glass. "Oh, and should I—” Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, turning your head away, feeling awkward and uncertain about how to continue without sounding desperate. “Should I expect anyone to join me?” 

Jihoon had taken a drink and swallowed half of it when you finally got your words out. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it wasn’t that. He hadn’t meant to react the way he had, but being caught off guard and feeling the champagne take a sudden wrong turn, Jihoon finds himself coughing as he tries to calm himself down and avoid your eyes and others as they look at him concerned. “I’m fine… I—” Tilting his head and clearing his throat, Jihoon holds up his hand, keeping others from approaching him or you as he repeats that he doesn’t need help. “I’m fine, I promise.” 

“Was my question that shocking?” 

Jihoon watches your lips quiver slightly, only for you to hide your emotions by taking a sip of the drink in your hand. “No—I, yes. I won’t lie, yes, but also it shouldn’t have been. Y/N, I’m not meaning to upset you.” 

Shaking your head, you clear your throat, feeling your cheeks flair with warmth from embarrassment. You were such a fool for even considering that Jihoon would come to your room or want you like that even if you were his wife. “I’m not upset. I’m tired. I’m going to go ahead and call it an evening. Say goodbye to the guests, Jihoon.” Stepping away from him, you meet his eyes, feeling his fingers trail over yours. “And get a wonderful night’s sleep.” 

Pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, Jihoon groans in frustration at you and mostly himself as the door closes behind you, leaving him alone with the guests in the dining hall at the wedding reception. He had once again messed up and was left to clean up the mess. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to see you or be with you, but tonight was going to be a bad night. 

Some nights Jihoon couldn’t tell when he was going to shift, and others like tonight he could feel it from a mile away. Every inch of his body felt like it was on fire and the rumbling in his ears had been loud from the moment he had gotten up. He had barely made it through the wedding on sheer will, but now you had left him to the lions, and one in particular looked overly amused. 

Working his way through the remaining guests, bidding them a goodnight and explaining you had needed to go lay down with a headache, Jihoon felt his own headache growing with every single lie he told. It wasn’t until Mingyu had given him one more smirk and sipped at his whiskey that Jihoon cracked. “Something on your mind, Mingyu?” 

“Of course not, Monseigneur. Just awaiting my turn to give my well wishes to the beautiful couple before I retire for the night, but—oh, where is your bride, Monseigneur?” 

He was playing with fire and clearly drunk. Laughing under his breath, Jihoon nods and wipes his finger under his nose, moving closer to Mingyu. He could feel a subtle shift in the air, not realizing his eyes had already shifted in color from brown to gold. “Waiting for me in bed, like a good wife. Where she belongs.” 

Mingyu’s smile falters not only at Jihoon’s words but also at the change in his tone and the difference in Jihoon’s eye color. “Yeah, that so? She didn’t seem very happy earlier. So I figured you wouldn’t be satisfying her on her wedding night. Or at least that’s what her face was saying. I know her pretty well, you see.” 

Scoffing, Jihoon digs his nails into his palm, taking a step towards Mingyu, who doesn’t budge. “Do you know her pretty well? How well? Careful with your next words...” 

He had no reason to be afraid of Jihoon, and yet the air around Jihoon was causing Mingyu’s hair to stand on end. He could feel his heart rate starting to rise as he realized that the only people left in the room beside himself and Jihoon were servants. “I—yeah, I know—” 

“Monseigneur! It’s time for a night walk.” 

Time had gotten away from Soonyoung during the festivities. He hadn’t realized how dark it had gotten until he had seen Jihoon backing the larger man against a wall and he knew that could only mean one thing: Jihoon was shifting. “Apologies for taking away the monseigneur, but routines. Have a goodnight, Monsieur.” 

Left speechless, Mingyu is only able to take a full breath once Jihoon is ushered away from him and out the doors. “What the fuck—” His heart was slowly starting to calm down and the sense of danger seemed to dissipate the longer that he was away from Jihoon. There was something wrong with everything that had just happened. He was twice the size of Jihoon in most ways and yet the man had him almost trembling for a moment and quickly sobering up. Now the prince was going for a night walk? Where? You weren’t allowed to go out at night. That was one of the things you had told Mingyu. Now he was even more curious as to why. 

Guiding Jihoon towards the gates, Soonyoung grimaces, hearing the sounds of flesh starting to rip. This was closer than he wanted to be to a shift. It was dangerous and he had scars that he already bore from Jihoon and close calls. 

“Get away from me!” 

Trembling from the pain and fear of shifting, Jihoon growls out the words, glancing back at Soonyoung as he slams the gates shut in front of him, sealing him out for the night. The painful groaning roar that escapes Jihoon next almost breaks Soonyoung’s heart as he turns on his heels and runs back towards the palace, not seeing Mingyu lingering in the shadows near the gates watching Jihoon stumble and fall as he shifts into the beast. 

“Fuck—” There aren’t words to explain what Mingyu feels or the terror for you that runs through him as he watches the bear’s claws dig into the dirt as it runs for the forest snarling. There was no way he was going to let you stay here with that thing. He’d kill it before he’d let it hurt you. Without much thought, Mingyu heads back towards the palace and to his room to grab his knife before sneaking back out towards the forest in search of Jihoon, determined that only one of them would come back for you in the morning. 

11

The night had been too long and filled with strange and horrible dreams as you tossed and turned in your bed. You had hoped and prayed that Jihoon had been lying to you and that he would show up at your door, but instead you found yourself on your wedding night alone. You had been half tempted to go find Mingyu, but after sending Jieun to find him, she only found his room empty, confusing you more. 

You woke the next morning to terrified and frantic yelling that made your stomach twist instantly with nausea before your feet ever hit the floor. What was wrong? Why would anyone be that upset after the day of your wedding? 

Not caring about putting on more than a robe, you run through the halls and towards the commotion only to stop when Wonwoo wraps his arms around your waist, urging for you to wait. “No! What’s wrong? Let me go!” Tugging free from his grasp, you manage to move through the wall of people only to fall to your knees at the sight in front of you. 

When you hear the scream, you aren’t aware that it’s coming from you until your mother is holding you to her chest and rocking you back and forth, trying to calm you down. The sound is so gut wrenching and devastating that you can’t believe that you are making it, but the sight of Mingyu bloody and clinging for life in front of you was enough to make you learn that you could make such a sound. 

“He’s alive, but—barely. Jihoon found him in the forest this morning and brought him back. If it wasn’t for him...” 

Blinking through your tears, you search for Jihoon, who mutters something you can’t hear to Soonyoung before he disappears from your sight down the hall once again, leaving you essentially alone. You are left clinging to your mother as you watch the servants move Mingyu into another room where doctors begin their work to save your friend. 

Your sense of time gets lost as you sit outside of the room listening to the hushed voices of the doctors and the clanking of their tools. It’s only when someone kneels in front of you, putting a plate of food on your lap, that you seem to focus on the face in front of you, realizing that it’s Jihoon. Glancing down at the plate, you grimace and look away from it, feeling Jihoon’s palm against your cheek, turning your head back towards him. 

“You have to eat. You’ve been sitting here all day. It’s doing him no good.” Picking up the fork from the plate, Jihoon cuts into a piece of meat, lifting it for you and watching you furrow your brows as he tries to feed you. “Eat, please? How is not eating going to help the doctors save him?” 

The smell of the meat wasn’t appetizing. Nothing about the food in front of you made you want to eat it, but it was more Jihoon urging you to take a bite that had you leaning forward and accepting it. Chewing slowly, you lean your head back against the wall as he sighs, moving to sit in front of you, crossing his legs, and putting the plate in his own lap so he can gather more of the food waiting for you to finish the first bite. 

“Y/N—” 

“Where did you find him? Why were you outside, Jihoon?” 

Closing his eyes, Jihoon rests the fork on the plate and takes a deep breath to your questions as you cut him off before he can speak again. There was the truth and then there was what he and Soonyoung had come up with. Jihoon wasn’t sure which he was ready to tell you or if he was ready to tell you anything. 

He could remember Mingyu trying to attack him—the beast—in the forest. He could still see the anger on the man’s face as he tried to do anything with the useless knife in his hand, but like many others before him, Mingyu had found himself powerless against the beast. The thought of it made Jihoon feel sick to his stomach as he smelled the copper in the air even now as the doctors worked to repair what he had done to Mingyu. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t killed him. Maybe it was seeing your face and the pain in it when he had taken the necklace from your neck, but he had managed to run away from Mingyu and then find him barely breathing once he was human again. 

“Please don’t do this to me.” 

Jihoon heard your tears before he saw them. He heard the desperation and despair in your voice as you sobbed, drawing his eyes back up to you. It had broken his heart before to see you upset but now you were his wife. It was his duty more than ever to take care of you and he was already fucking it up. “I—he was attacked by a mon—” 

“The monseigneur was out for a morning walk and heard him.” 

Gritting his teeth to Wonwoo’s voice, Jihoon lowers his head again and nods along with the story that he and Soonyoung had come up with. Of course others in the palace would know the story by now, and the steward would want to protect him—especially from himself. Jihoon wants to explain it all to you and make you understand, but the look on Wonwoo’s face makes him stay silent as you stare up at the tall man. 

“Do we know what attacked him?” Jihoon had started to say something. You could tell that he was keeping something else from you, that perhaps he had started to open up and then he was once again silenced. This had happened before—the same song and dance, but this was different for you. Your best friend was laying torn apart on a table fighting for his life and you weren’t just going to accept it and smile. “Jihoon said—”

“The monseigneur is tired, madame. You both are. You aren’t eating properly and the monseigneur is increasingly busy as the coronation approaches.” 

You were starting to hate Wonwoo. He kept secrets worse than Jihoon in some ways. He made you realize that Jihoon was as much, if not more, of a prisoner in this palace than you were. Shaking your head, you turn it away from both Wonwoo and Jihoon listening for the sounds of the doctors as they continue to work. “I want to be alone.” 

“Y/N, I can sit with you. I don’t have—” 

“Very well, madame. Monseigneur, you have a busy day. If you don’t mind to come with me?” 

Biting at his cheek, Jihoon lets his eyes move over your pretty face as fresh tears run down your cheeks untouched. He wanted to fix this, to make you feel better and yet he was once again being pulled away from you. “Fine… Here, please eat a bit more.” Putting the plate next to your leg, Jihoon watches your eyes move to it for a few seconds before you look away again, ignoring what he said. “I’ll check in when I can, darling.” 

You do your best to stay stoic even as the tears run down your face, but when Jihoon’s lips press to the side of your head, you can’t help how your body shakes with grief. You wanted him to stay with you and keep his vows to love and protect you. 

Keeping his eyes on you until it’s impossible to do so, Jihoon crosses his arms and scowls at the ground in front of him, knowing Wonwoo is just a few steps behind him. “This better be important. I should be back there with her.” 

“With all due respect, monseigneur I’m not sure being around madame Y/N is in your best interest when you are in the headspace you are currently in. You might make mistakes and put yourself or the kingdom at risk.” 

Jihoon felt like the air had been forcefully removed from his lungs as he came to a stop in the hallway. There wasn’t anything pressing to take care of; Wonwoo was just trying to keep him quiet. It made sense. He had heard some of what Jihoon had started to tell you, but it didn’t give him the right to dictate what he said or did. 

Even as Jihoon stood there seething, he knew that he was lying to himself. Of course Wonwoo could tell him what to do and how to do it. His allegiance was to the king and to the kingdom. Jihoon wasn’t yet king. Wonwoo was doing what he thought would protect the kingdom, and even Jihoon knew the man was right. If you knew everything about Jihoon, there was no way you would have married him. There was no way that you’d be his queen and there was no way he’d ever even have a chance of having an heir with you. 

“I know you are upset with me, Jihoon. Your father gave me very specific instructions before he passed away. I’m attempting to follow them to the letter. I want you to succeed. Stop attempting to self-sabotage yourself.” Watching Jihoon’s shoulders relax, Wonwoo lets out a breath and takes a step closer to the prince, tilting his head. “She’ll learn everything in time. It doesn’t have to be now and certainly not while he is on an operating table. Think about how she would react learning that—” 

“I get it. I was being weak. Thank you for stopping me, Wonwoo.” 

He was right; Jihoon knew it. You’d hate him. You might even try to do exactly what Mingyu had and he wouldn’t even blame you. 

12

Thorns dug into your feet. Bloody footprints marked every step you made as you ran through the dark forest away from the sounds of heavy breathing and snarls. You were terrified. Every beat of your heart could be felt in your throat as you tried to take in breaths to keep your energy up just enough to stay in front of whatever was chasing you. 

It didn’t seem to matter how hard you ran or what way you turned; you could almost feel the hot breath of it on your neck. Tears streamed down your face as you heard it growl your name; your eyes shut tightly as you begged for your life, only for your body to jerk awake as you hear your name once again. 

“Y/N… dear?” 

You weren’t in the forest and there was nothing chasing you. You were inside the palace but you had been moved from where you last remembered being. Shifting on the sofa, you whine, feeling your mother’s hand brush over your head as you try to sit up, feeling how stiff your body has become from sitting on the floor and sleeping on something that isn’t your bed. 

“Oh, darling. You look so weak. Couldn’t I take you to your bed?” 

Recoiling from her touch, you look around the room and towards the door, seeing that you weren’t moved far. The room where the doctors had been working on Mingyu was just across the hall. “No. Mingyu…” 

Brushing her fingers over your head, your mother nods and purses her lips when you refuse to leave. She knew you would. You were always stubborn and strong-willed. She wondered if your new husband had met this side of you and if he had known this side of you if he would have accepted the cost of your dowry. No doubt you were beautiful and lovely in many ways, but your stubbornness could cause issues in a marriage that your mother worried about. “Mingyu is out of surgery, Y/N. About an hour ago. He’s in his room, resting.” 

He had made it. Pushing her hand away, you sit up fully and try to slide from your mother, only to feel her hand wrap around your arm to stop you. “Mother, please. I want to go see him. I need to see him for myself.” 

“And I understand that, Y/N, but, I—I just, consider how this looks? I know that you two were close back home. Perhaps too close. Don’t make your husband regret his hospitality.” 

Shrugging her hand from your arm, you stand, giving her a look of contempt as she returns the look with more concern underlying. “I am checking on my friend. If Jihoon wants to be upset about that, so be it.” 

It was late afternoon now. You could feel the weight of the day resting on your shoulders as you made your way through the palace and towards Mingyu’s room. You knew your mother wasn’t wrong, but you hadn’t been lying. To you, there was nothing about what you were doing that was wrong. You had sat outside of the room where he had been in surgery most of the day until someone had moved you, so why would it be a shock to anyone that you would want to see him once he was out? 

Carefully pushing open his door, you glance around the dimly lit room as a frown quickly settles on your lips when you see Mingyu in his bed with the covers tucked under his arms. Bandages cover his chest and one of his shoulders, blood seeping through even as he sleeps with his brows furrowed so deeply. It broke you to see the man you knew to be so strong, so completely broken in front of you. 

You don’t worry about shutting the door all the way; instead, you move towards the bed and take Mingyu’s hand in yours, being careful not to jostle him in any way as new tears gather in your eyes and quickly fall on your cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I should have never asked you to come. You’d be safe and back home. I—” The words get caught in your throat on a sob as Mingyu’s nose wrinkles and he sighs in his sleep, giving you the first real sign that he is possibly going to be okay. 

Jihoon had finally found time to look for you again. He had found you sleeping against the wall after forcing himself to participate in a few meetings and decided to move you to the sofa, but now you weren’t there. He knew that Mingyu’s surgery had gone well; he was projected to recover to some degree, resembling being completely healed in a few months. Jihoon had been told that it was even possible that he would be well enough to travel in a week if his body took over healing as it should. 

Now Jihoon found himself in search of you, already knowing where you would be. He couldn’t blame you for wanting to see Mingyu. Even with as much as it made his chest feel heavy, he knew he would let you stay with him for as long as you wanted if that made you happy. Jihoon had done enough to disappoint you and to ruin your life in ways that you didn’t even understand yet. 

Hearing your sobs, Jihoon pauses outside of Mingyu’s door and looks down at the floor, watching the light shift on the floor in front of him through the cracked door. He hated that he was getting used to the sound of you crying. That wasn’t something anyone should grow accustomed to. 

“I hate this so much. Why were you even outside? You are so stupid, Mingyu.” You didn’t want to blame Mingyu or Jihoon for this. You wanted to blame whatever it was that attacked Mingyu and you wanted to blame yourself. “I’m so stupid.” 

"No, you aren’t.” 

You knew that Mingyu hadn’t spoken. The most he had done was sigh and shift some in his sleep. Furrowing your brows, you wipe your cheeks and turn towards the door, watching as Jihoon moves further into the room with a frown on his face. Perhaps your mother had been right. You shouldn’t have visited Mingyu; it had upset Jihoon. Whispering his name, you slide your hand from Mingyu’s and sniff back your tears, uncertain what to do as Jihoon gets closer, his eyes moving to the bed and over Mingyu before they move back to you. 

“I’m not here to rush you or make you leave, Y/N. I just—I was coming to check on you. You weren’t where I left you.” 

Letting out the breath you hadn’t realized you were even holding, you nod and settle back by Mingyu’s side, sliding your hand back into his as Jihoon wanders in the room near you. He had been the one to move you to the couch. You weren’t sure how that hadn’t dawned on you earlier. It makes sense. He had tried to feed you earlier; of course he’d want you somewhere at least a bit more comfortable. “I’m sorry, Jihoon.” 

“You don’t owe me anything. I wish you’d eat and rest, of course, but I won’t force it.” Quickly meeting your eyes before he moves to the window to look out over the courtyard as the sun starts to set, Jihoon takes a slow, deep breath and lets it out. “If—if you’d let me, I will get you something and bring it here even. Or if you will finally lay down, I’ll bring it to your room, or have it brought there so you don’t even have to see me.” Glancing over his shoulder at you, Jihoon sees Mingyu and the blood that is starting to stain the sheets draped over him and it’s a reminder that he did that. He’s the one who hurt your best friend. “I—I’m sorry this happened.” 

The way that Jihoon spoke made you feel like the tide was rising and that time was against him and you. It was as if you didn’t say something or save him that you might have to watch him drown as he swam out too far all while you watched from the shore. “It’s not your fault. You brought him back. You saved him—” 

“Y/N!” 

Sitting up straight, when Jihoon raises his voice, panic lacing it, you look from him to Mingyu as he winces in his sleep, causing you and Jihoon to pause until he settles once again. 

“I didn’t—’m sorry, fuck. I—I should just go.” 

The water was rising and you had a choice to make. You whine softly, closing your fingers tighter around Mingyu's. As you watch Jihoon walk towards the door, you suddenly stand up, dropping Mingyu’s hand and reaching for Jihoon's instead. Barely catching his fingers with yours, you once again whine Jihoon’s name. Coming to a stop, his head dropping as you take a step closer and sliding your hand fully into his. 

“I’ll eat in my room, but only if you join me.” You can see the apprehension in Jihoon’s eyes and how he glances towards the window, seeing how dark it’s gotten. “Please, Jihoon.” Wincing at your pleading, he meets your eyes and nods. 

“Okay.” Jihoon found it difficult to tell you no after disappointing you so often and seeing that heartbroken look in your eyes. The darkness terrified him, but there was no way to tell you that he was afraid to spend any time with you while the moon was in the sky. If he told you that he’d have to explain why, and then he would have to explain why Mingyu was laying in this bed still unconscious, so Jihoon didn’t tell you no. Instead, he let you lull him and the beast with your soft smile as he gave into his temptation and brushed his fingers over your cheek, feeling your warm skin under his touch. “I’ll be there soon.” 

You knew exactly why you had doubts about Jihoon keeping his promise to join you for dinner in your room, but as you sat at your window watching the moon rise, you tried not to let that doubt get the best of you. You were doing your very best not to let your mind wander back to Mingyu laying alone in his room covered in bandages and instead you did something you hadn’t done in a long time—you prayed. 

You weren’t even sure who you were praying to. There were many gods, goddesses, and deities in general that people believed in, but with your silent prayer for Mingyu’s recovery and Jihoon’s strength going forward, you send your words to whomever might be listening. You pray for yourself. Your own strength and ability to do what must be done as a wife and queen—that you might be worthy of Jihoon. 

“Are you sure?” 

Not dignifying Soonyoung’s question with an response, Jihoon shakes his head and gives one look to your door before meeting his butler’s eyes. He knew why Soonyoung was concerned. He wasn’t the only one sharing those concerns. Junhui had his own reservations when he was asked to prepare the late dinner. Wonwoo had shared gentle reminders of earlier conversations and his mother had simply given her blessing, hoping that the night might be fruitful. 

Fruitful. Jihoon knew what his mother meant, but how could she even be thinking of something like that right now? He wasn’t trying to bed you. That was the farthest thing from his mind at the moment. In fact, that was the farthest thing from his mind in general. It wasn’t that he didn’t see you in that manner. He’d be a fool to look at you and not lust after you. You were divine in his eyes and now you were his wife. It made it even harder not to give into lingering glances but today you were dealing with the stress of everything that had happened with Mingyu. Jihoon was going to your room to comfort you and to eat. Nothing more. 

The hushed voices and soft knock at your door bring you out of your whispered prayers and right back to the present. Jihoon had kept his promise. Why did that terrify you almost as much as him breaking it? Moving to your feet, you swallow hard, feeling your breath getting caught in your throat before clearing it so that you can finally speak, though it sounds strained. “Co—come in.” 

You had looked exactly the same before he had left you to get dinner ready, and yet you were taking Jihoon’s breath away as he stepped out of Soonyoung’s way, letting him push the tray into the room. Jihoon knew he was staring but at least your attention was taken up as you rushed forward, cooing over Soonyoung and the dinner. God, you really were too good for Jihoon. How he ever got lucky enough for you to end up in Aetherial Grove was a miracle. The idea of it made his stomach twist with anxiety even as butterflies overwhelmed him. He was so scared that he might hurt you in a way he wouldn’t be able to fix. 

“This looks delicious. It’s too much.” Sighing, you whine under your breath and reach for the tray as Soonyoung sighs at you, moving your hand away from it. “I can—” 

“Madame…” 

“Stop calling me that. You call him Jihoon. Do the same for me; call me by my name, please.” 

Lifting his eyes to Jihoon, Soonyoung watches the prince finally move into the room and towards the table as he places the dishes on it for you both to share. 

“If that’s what she wants, I’m okay with it, Soonyoung. We can handle the rest of this. Go rest.” 

The apprehension in Soonyoung’s eyes puzzles you at first. You wonder if he isn’t sure to take what Jihoon is saying seriously or if he isn’t sure if he wants to leave dinner alone without a servant present, but then the man puts on a dazzling smile and you can’t seem to figure out which one it was. You find yourself instead smiling back at him as he bows at the waist and hums softly, ready to excuse himself. 

“Alright. If either of you needs me or anyone else, you know how to get in touch. Goodnight, Y/N. Jihoon.” 

Nodding along with his words, Jihoon doesn’t pay anymore attention to Soonyoung as he leaves the room. His eyes are on you as you stand next to the table and he realizes this is his first dinner alone with you. If the circumstances were different, it might seem intimate or romantic, but tonight Jihoon pushes those thoughts aside and offers you a soft smile before moving to pull out your chair, letting you sit down first. “I’m happy that you decided to eat, Y/N and I—I’m glad you wanted me here.” 

Finding him to be forever the enigma, you smile along with Jihoon’s words, feeling your cheeks heating up. “I’m just glad you accepted. I honestly… Well, I just don’t think I want to be alone right now. I’d rather be with you.” 

Jihoon had been ready to move the last of the plates to the table when you had spoken, but he hadn’t been ready for your words. Letting out a breath, he smiles with his back turned to you, putting the plate back down on the tray to steady himself before trying again and this time moving it with ease to the middle of the table, still avoiding your eyes directly. “Then I—I’ll stay with you. However long you need me to tonight.” 

Two courses into the impromptu dinner, you pout into your wine glass as Jihoon leans back in his chair with his own wine glass resting on his fingers. It’s impossible for you not to admit to yourself that you have been struck with at least a bit of luck when it comes to your marriage. It might not be perfect, but you had seen worse pairings in arranged marriages before. Beautiful women paired with men their father’s age who expected them to be in bed ready for them every night. Handsome men who were stuck with wives who would sneak off with the stable boy not even after a year of marriage and yet you could look at Lee Jihoon for the rest of your life. 

“Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have—did I get something on my face?” Shifting in his chair, Jihoon lifts his free hand to rub at his lips, causing you to smile into a laugh that he finds infectious. “What? No, why are you laughing at me? Mon ange…” 

When had he started calling you that? Placing your fingers against your lips, you smile against them and turn your face away from Jihoon, trying to hide how shy he makes you feel. “Jihoon…” 

You were driving him crazy. No other woman had ever made Jihoon feel like this. Perhaps he could chalk it up to never getting the chance to know them, but even that didn’t feel like the answer. It all felt like it was leading up to you. You were made to be his. Some sort of cruel destiny where he might truly meet the love of his life and never fully get to love her the way he wanted to. “What is it?” 

This was insane; clearly you were insane or perhaps you had drank too much wine if the tension in the room had gotten so thick that you were once again looking at Jihoon with desire on your mind. So much had happened in just two days and it would be so selfish of you to attempt to act on your feelings while your best friend lay recovering in a room across the palace—and yet you find yourself staring at Jihoon, wondering if his promise was true. “I’m not laughing at you, I promise. I just—you are so handsome. It almost breaks my heart.” 

Run away. You should run away and never look back. Jihoon’s brain is screaming at him as he watches you from across the table, your eyes fixed on him in a way he’s never seen before. You didn’t know what you were saying. You were drinking and lost in the moment—or you were simply a woman in a room with her husband after her wedding. 

Letting out a deep breath at your compliment, Jihoon’s lips pull up slightly in a smile before he shakes his head. He wasn’t disagreeing with you, but he knew that there was a deeply ugly part of him that you had seen on more than one occasion and you had yet to meet it fully. He prayed you never would. If he had to confine himself to a cell, he would rather that be his life than you ever suffer that side of him. 

“I never want to break your heart, though I fear I have with my selfishness on many occasions already.” 

“It’s not important, Jiho—” 

“It is, Y/N. I’m sorry for my behavior. I’m incredibly lucky to have such a beautiful wife, and not only that, but a beautiful, caring, and understanding wife who wears her heart on her sleeve. You are stunning inside and out, darling.” 

Once again looking away from Jihoon, you look up at the ceiling, trying to keep the tears gathering on your eyes from falling. He wasn’t wrong about some of the things he had said. He had broken your heart many times already, but his words were doing a very good job at patching some of those cracks. 

The moment the first tear slips down your cheek, Jihoon whispers your name and slides from his chair so he can move around the table to kneel on one knee in front of your chair. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m so bad at this—at relationships. I’m sorry—” 

You had been kissed twice in your life. Once by Mingyu and then by Jihoon on your wedding day. Out of those two kisses, your wedding kiss had taken your breath away and made you realize that the one you and Mingyu shared had been between kids trying to figure out their way in the world. Your third kiss almost made you forget that you had ever kissed anyone besides Jihoon ever. You knew it was bold of you to kiss him and not let him have that opportunity, but between Jihoon’s words and having him in front of you, the moment had taken you over. 

Wrapping his fingers around your wrist as you rest your hand against his cheek, Jihoon furrows his brows tightly. He hadn’t expected you to kiss him, but he wasn’t going to pull away or push you away. At first he wasn’t sure what to do except return the kiss lightly, but then you sighed so softly and Jihoon’s mind almost exploded, sending a shiver through his body and right to his stomach, causing it to tighten as lust rushes through him. 

He knew that you didn’t know what you were doing to him. There was a chance that you didn’t know what you were doing at all. You were merely following your instincts, and there was no way that Jihoon was going to tell you they were wrong. He was fighting with himself to deepen the kiss, to let his teeth nip at your lips, to let his tongue taste your skin. You were set in front of him like a pure white rose and Jihoon felt like he needed to protect you and ruin you at the same time. “Shit—” Muttering against your lips, Jihoon tightens his grip on your wrist when you are the one who nips at his lips, sending another wave of lust through him. “Wait. Y/N…” 

You didn’t want to wait. This was what was supposed to happen on your wedding night. You had waited for Jihoon all night long until your body gave out and you had finally fallen asleep. Now you had him in front of you, your lips on his and he was telling you to wait? Whining on his lips, you grip at Jihoon’s shirt with your free hand, hearing him groan quietly, a sound that has you wanting to close your thighs tighter for any sense of release. “No, Jihoon. Please? Why?” 

Reaching for the arm of your chair, Jihoon misses the first time landing on your leg through your dress, sending panic through him when you smile against his lips. This was too much; he was barely holding himself back and now you were begging him. Tightening his fingers around the wooden arm of the chair, Jihoon groans again, tilting his head as he finally takes over the kiss, feeling your lips part so he can brush his tongue against yours. 

It felt like you were getting what you wanted. You had never kissed anyone like this before. You could taste Jihoon as his tongue glided along yours, his hand sliding from your wrist so he could cup your face, holding you in place. There was a familiar feeling between your thighs that you had only spoken to your married cousins and mother about. You weren’t completely naive. You knew what it felt like to be aroused, but you had never been this aroused in your entire life. You knew that if Jihoon reached between your legs, he would find you dripping from just his kiss. 

Groaning into the kiss, Jihoon’s hands shake slightly as he tries to keep himself in check. It would be so easy to pick you up and lay you on the ground under him. He could push your dress up and find what was his—pushing the thought from his head, Jihoon furrows his brows, slowly breaking the kiss, leaving gentle kisses on your cheeks. He was painfully hard in his pants but it wasn’t something that he would subject you to—his sweet, beautiful bride. 

“Wha—no. Jihoon?” Out of breath, you pout even as Jihoon presses his lips softly against your pout before leaning back on his knees to catch his own breath. It was clear he was done kissing you. Had you done something wrong? Did you not kiss well enough? Was it too obvious that you didn’t have as much experience? “What did I do wrong?” 

Closing his eyes to your question, Jihoon curses himself for letting the kiss go as far as it did. He wanted to give you what you so clearly wanted, but he also didn’t want you to hate him. Jihoon was terrified of what he might do to you if he let himself get in bed with you. He could already feel the hair standing up on the back of his neck, the beast curious with his current mood. The more awake the beast got, the more aggressive Jihoon was, and what if he couldn’t stop himself? The thought scared him more than you being a bit upset about not getting what you wanted. “Nothing, mon ange. You’re perfect. We have the rest of our lives; no need to rush.” 

Rush? Who was rushing what? You wouldn’t be fertile for the rest of your life. Jihoon knew that as well as you did. It wasn’t the main thing on your mind but the idea of not providing a royal heir loomed over your head like a waiting guillotine, knowing that the entire kingdom would be watching and waiting. “Oh, sure, but—” 

“We should get you to bed. It’s been a dreadfully long day for you.” Jihoon could almost see the gears turning in your head. He was afraid of what you were thinking about so he didn’t ask; instead, he moved to his feet and offered you his hand to lead you to your bedroom door. “Will you be okay?” 

What if you said no? Jihoon had promised to stay with you as long as you wanted. Furrowing your brows, you lift your fingers to your tingling lips, feeling confused by his actions and words after he had kissed you the way he had. “I suppose, but—” 

“Then I’ll leave you to sleep, darling.” Brushing his lips against the corner of your lips, Jihoon hums softly against your skin, squeezing your hand gently before letting go of you completely and turning away. “Goodnight.” 

Your eyes burn at Jihoon’s back the entire walk to your door. He knew you were upset. He had made a promise and in his own way he had broken it. Sighing as he leans against the door having a barrier between you and him, Jihoon closes his eyes and furrows his brow, feeling not only his cock throbbing in his pants but the rumble of the beast laughing at him inside of his head. 

13

“I’m fine, Y/N... Stop fretting over me. Seriously! I can lift a spoon.” 

It had been almost a week since Mingyu had been attacked in the forest. You had spent hours at a time every single day aiding in his recovery, watching him get stronger. Now you couldn’t stop the smile that sat on your lips as Mingyu scoffed at you, lifting his own spoon up to his lips as you sat on the end of his bed watching him eat. “You look so much better. Your color has returned and I thought I’d never see you smile again, Mingyu. I—I’m so sorry this happened.” 

Swallowing the bite of soup in his mouth, Mingyu furrows his brows and shakes his head at your words. You had said something similar, at least a dozen times every day over the week. It wasn’t your fault. He knew that much. He couldn’t remember all the details of his attack, but he knew that you hadn’t been there and you weren’t even remotely connected to it. “I swear to god, Y/N, if you don’t stop saying that to me, I’m going to pour my soup on you. I’m the one that went out in the forest.” 

Even though you know it’s an empty threat, you lift your hands to safe guard yourself from Mingyu’s soup, watching him smile as he takes another small bite before leaning back against the headboard of his bed. He was going back home soon. Your parents had already left a few days before and now Mingyu’s father was due to be at the palace in a day’s time to help Mingyu on his trip back to Leressair. You were going to miss him. You had enjoyed having a companion around, a piece of home. 

“It’s not like it’s your fault either. You didn’t attack yourself, but I still don’t understand why you went out there. Seems reckless, even for you.” 

Laughing, clearly unamused at your jab at his actions, Mingyu shakes his head and shrugs. “I don’t remember really. I mean bits and pieces, but not enough to really mean anything. Just that it was a bear and it was huge.” Seeing the concerned and terrified look on your face, Mingyu reaches to squeeze your fingers, rolling your eyes and adding. “And then your brave husband found me and saved my life. So now I am indebted to him for the rest of it, I suppose.” 

You did feel a sense of pride that Jihoon had been the one to find and rescue Mingyu. There had been a tension between the two of them that no longer seemed to exist after the incident and while you wished that it had never happened, you were much happier seeing them exist as something closer to acquaintances than enemies. “Oh, for the rest of this life and the next.” 

“I’ll accept this one. I don’t need anything after.” 

Taking a deep breath at hearing Jihoon’s voice, you watch Mingyu’s eyes shift towards his door before he lowers his head respectfully. 

“Monseigneur..” 

“How are you feeling today?” It was a question out of genuine concern. Jihoon had found himself almost as often as you watching Mingyu as he slept. He would watch the younger man’s chest rise and fall almost like a new father watching their child sleep, making sure that the next breath was coming. While neither you nor Mingyu knew his true reasoning, Jihoon’s regret for the situation was apparent in his actions. 

“Much better. I’m up often and many of the wounds are healing as the doctors hoped. Thank you for getting me to them so quickly, Monseigneur.” 

Lifting his hand, Jihoon dismisses Mingyu’s gratitude, not out of disrespect but because it’s not needed or wanted. He did what he had to. Not only as the soon-to-be crowned ruler of the kingdom, but also as the person responsible for Mingyu’s current condition. “Just pleased to see you looking healthier, and please just call me Jihoon.” 

You had tried to stay silent while Jihoon and Mingyu spoke but with Jihoon’s last request, you can’t stop the soft breath you release with a smile. That meant more to you than either one of them understood. 

“Uh, I understand that your father will be joining us here at the palace tomorrow. That is also the day of the coronation. I hope that you both will attend. Not for myself, but for Y/N.” 

Again, Jihoon had you speechless and staring at him with tears on the rims of your eyes. Did he know how much that gesture meant to you? Even if Mingyu said no, just the point that Jihoon had made that effort had your heart tight in your chest. 

“We would be honored, Monse—Jihoon. I’ve told her since she was young that she’d make one hell of a queen, so I would be a fool not to see the moment firsthand.” 

“Stop it…” Whining under your breath, without much thought, you push Mingyu’s arm, causing him to wince in pain. “Oh! Oh no!” Shifting on the bed, you carefully look over Mingyu’s bandages as he leans his head back, laughing. 

Jihoon moves closer, running his fingers through his hair and letting out a deep sigh. “If you live to see tomorrow.” Taking a step back as he teases you, Jihoon laughs when you whine his name, pouting up at him. “I’m sorry, darling. You are just too easy to tease. He’s fine.” 

14

You hadn’t thought that anything could possibly be more nervewracking than your wedding day, but that was until the day of the coronation. In reality, you didn’t matter nearly as much as Jihoon and yet you knew that there would be front and center with him accepting a duty that you would be expected to fulfill the rest of your life. 

Jihoon wasn’t faring much better and though he had been groomed for this day his entire life, he still felt like everyone was going to see through the mask. He had wondered multiple times throughout the morning if he was going to be able to handle the stress of the day. He could feel his anxiety rising in his chest, the roaring in his ears that told him that he wasn’t built for this—it all went silent when you said his name and took his hand. 

“Are you alright, Jihoon?” He had that same stoic look on his face and yet you could almost see the panic in his eyes as you stood behind Jihoon in the wings of the same church where the two of you had been married. There was a loud droning from the crowd of people waiting to see the new king be crowned, but it didn’t matter once you and Jihoon’s eyes met. 

“I—” Jihoon knew he could lie and tell you yes. He could put on a brave face even in front of you, but you were his wife and something in him told him that this was something he didn’t need to lie to you about. “Not really. I’m terrified, Y/N. I’m afraid I’m going to make a fool of myself, of you, and of my family.” 

That was unexpected. Though you and Jihoon had grown closer, he wasn’t an open book. He rarely shared his insecurities with you or showed any weakness at all. In this moment, he truly looked like your husband asking for help from his wife. “You aren’t going to make a fool out of anyone, Jihoon. You were born for this.” 

You can see Jihoon’s look of doubt and how he wants to argue with you but when you step in front of him, lifting your hand to brush his hair from his forehead, he stops. “It may not feel like it right now but you are a king and just because they are going to anoint you and add a crown doesn’t mean that you instantly are going to make a mistake.” 

You were good at this—making Jihoon feel less like a failure and like he was a real person. For his entire life, Jihoon had heard the same words that he was born for this but no one had truly expanded on it. You were the first person to make him actually feel like maybe those words were even close to true. “Maybe, but—but what if I do?” 

God, had you always been this beautiful? Of course you had; Jihoon knew that, but as you stood in front of him, your soft fingers moving to his jacket to smooth it down over his chest, he swore you really were an angel. Jihoon knew that any moment now the archbishop would begin the ceremony and you both would have to face the kingdom, but for now he was happy to just look at you, feeling his nerves settle. 

“Then we face it together.” 

It had just become another day when Jihoon was realizing how lucky he was to have you in his life. You didn’t seem real. He remembered every face and name of the women who had come to Aetherial Grove before you, but somehow you were making it better without even knowing it. Leaning to brush his lips against yours, Jihoon smiles at the small, surprised but happy sound you make before you return the kiss. He was falling in love with you more and more every day. 

“Pardon the intrusion, Monseigneur... Madame. It’s time.” 

You had felt anxious, afraid, and overwhelmed before the coronation had begun, but as you stood watching Jihoon being anointed and accepting his vows as king, you only felt pride. You had watched with stars in your eyes as the archbishop placed the crown on Jihoon’s head with a smile and spoke his final words, completing the ceremony.

“May the King live forever.” 

Jihoon felt the weight of the crown on his head. He had looked at it many times, be it sitting atop his father’s head or put away for safekeeping, but he never thought it would actually be where it sits now. Taking a deep breath, Jihoon closes his eyes, feeling the archbishop place one final kiss on the rings placed on his hand before his eyes turn to you. Your part of the ceremony was shorter and less significant, but to Jihoon it meant more. 

It was clear to those who knew you that you were nervous once again as the archbishop anointed you and guided you through your shorter vows. Jihoon tried to remain the stoic king he was supposed to be, but when the crown that his mother had worn for so many years was placed on your head, he felt such overwhelming pride. You were his wife and his queen. 

Taking your hand, Jihoon squeezes it gently, whispering his praises for how well you handled the ceremony before leading you to sit down in front of the congregation as the ceremony truly comes to an end. Not only does the weight of the coronation slowly start to ease from your body with each person leaving, but also when the crown is taken from your head and put away, reminding you that it isn’t something you have to bear every day. You would be the queen for the rest of your life but you wouldn’t be weighed down by that crown at every turn and you would have Jihoon by your side every step of the way. 

“Madame La Reine…” 

Narrowing your eyes at Mingyu’s voice, you can’t help how your smile pulls at your lips even as you try to look annoyed at his teasing. He looked even better than he had a day before, though he found himself leaning on his father more than he would have liked. 

“Stop that. I’m still me.” 

Mingyu’s grin makes you feel homesick for the briefest moment before you meet Jihoon’s eyes as he glances at you from over his mother’s shoulder. You were home and that man was your home. 

“Sorry, I can’t help it. You looked so regal with the crown and the jewels. I almost didn’t recognize you, Dove.” 

Mingyu’s father was slightly smaller than him, but his presence was always larger. He had been like a second father to you for almost your entire life from the moment that he and your father had become close friends. “Mingyu, manners. She may not want to be called her title, but perhaps the childhood names aren’t—” 

“It’s fine, I promise. I like the name. It reminds me that I’m the same girl from Thornwood no matter where I end up.” 

"Well, you’ll always be Dove to me.” 

You could see the sadness in Mingyu’s eyes. You weren’t sure what it was stemming from but it was clear as day as he shifted from one foot to the other with a soft sigh. 

“I—we’re leaving for Leressair. I just wanted to be able to congratulate you and say goodbye before we did.” 

There it was and now you felt the same sadness rush through you like a shockwave as you looked up at Mingyu. You knew he had to go. There were things to be done in Leressair just as there were things to be done in Aetherial Grove. Time didn’t stop just because you wanted it to. “Oh… So soon. I’ll miss you. Will you contact me? I want to know everything about how things are going and how you are feeling. Will you let me know if you need anything?” 

Mingyu knew this spiral. You would talk quicker and not let anyone else get a word in until the air in the room was all but used up. It was as if you thought if there was no space for anyone else to say that nothing could change or happen. You had done the same thing when you had left Thornwood. “Y/N… I’ll miss you too. May I hug you? Or would that be inappropriate?” 

There weren’t many people left in the church now and those who did remain knew who you were to Mingyu. They were the ones who lived in the palace and they were the ones who had helped care for him as he recovered over the last week. You didn’t care if they thought it was inappropriate or not as tears sat on the rims of your eyes and you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around Mingyu’s waist, resting your cheek on his chest, feeling his cheek against your head. 

“I’ll write as often as I can, but Y/N... I’m going to be fine. I’m stronger than you think.” 

Furrowing his brows, Jihoon sighs as his mother continues her conversation, noticing that her son had stopped really listening to her. He was paying more attention to what was happening behind her, which had her curious. Glancing behind her, Jihoon’s mother sighs under her breath as you step back from hugging Mingyu and wipe tears from your cheeks. You were too close to that man and Jihoon allowed it, though she knew why. He was feeling guilty for what had happened, though he shouldn’t. 

“Mon fils, are you listening to me? Would you rather see the duke off yourself? It seems your wife is doing a fine job of it.” 

Jihoon didn’t like the words that his mother was using as she spoke about you. You weren’t doing anything wrong. Jihoon wasn’t upset with you; he was concerned about you. Seeing you cry for any reason at all had Jihoon’s chest tightening and his stomach bubbling with anxiety. “What? No—no, maman. She’s—what are you talking about? She’s saying goodbye. Leave it alone. I don’t want to talk about this anymore anyway.” 

Of course he didn’t. Jihoon never wanted to talk about the difficult things and having an heir was a difficult thing. “I’m not doing anything to her, Jihoon, but this conversation can’t be over. You need to listen to me and seriously consider my words. You are king now and the kingdom is going to start speculating a due date for your queen. They don’t need a reason. They only need to know that you two were married to assume that you have made an heir.” 

That was a ridiculous notion. You weren’t pregnant. Jihoon hadn’t taken you to bed and it was no one's business—except it was. His mother was right. He was the king of Aetherial Grove and you were his queen. You had spoken to him about duty before and now his mother was doing the same. 

“Mon fils… I’m not trying to presume your—how you and Y/N spend your time, but we have to make sure that she is fertil—” 

“Maman! Enough. I’ll take care of it. I understand.”

15

“She insists, Y/N.” 

Sighing as you watch your things being packed up and moved out of your current rooms. Jieun was attempting to make the transition easier, but you had just gotten comfortable in your space and now Jihoon’s mother was adamant you were to take the proper room as queen. 

“You’ll be much more comfortable in a larger area, Y/N. I have so much less stuff now.” 

You hadn’t realized that she was in the room. You always tried to at least appear grateful or happy around Jihoon’s mother, but sometimes it was difficult. Forcing a bit of a smile, you turn towards her and take a steady breath before letting it out slowly into your words. “I only worry about your comfort, Mad—” 

“Please call me anything else. My name or maman, like Jihoon does. How will I stand it when you have children running about the palace and you are still calling me Madame?” 

Children. That had been on her mind often as of late. She had made it known just as often. Clearing your throat, you force a small laugh, lifting your hands as if to say she’s right, because she always was. “Of course, maman.” You choose the latter, to call her mother, hoping it might have the desired effect and it does. Jihoon’s mother’s face softens, a small coo slipping from her lips as she moves towards you, lifting her hands to cup your face. 

“Beautiful, sweet girl. I’m so very proud of you. Now… go. Get settled in your new rooms so that you can make yourself ready for your husband.” 

You knew that your face had gone hot under her hands, but you just laughed awkwardly before stepping back and looking down at your hands. It was clear to everyone in the room what she had meant but you had doubts that Jihoon would come to your room. It had been three weeks since you had gotten married and he had yet to show up for that reason. “Mm, yes. I’ll go... Do—do that. Have a good evening.” 

Jihoon’s heart was in his throat. He had put this off for as long as he could. He had listened to his mother’s nagging for weeks at this point, along with the constant questions at meetings as to if things had been “fruitful” with the queen. The word fruitful was beginning to lose its meaning. It was beginning to make Jihoon feel sick every time it was uttered. 

It wasn’t as if Jihoon had not found himself at your door more than once over the last few weeks. He had thought of you often—too often, hearing the sweet sounds you had made when he had just simply kissed you. Those memories led Jihoon right to your door, where he stood with his pants tight and his heart beating hard in his chest. Each and every time he would go back to his room out of fear of what might happen, but today the nagging had gotten to be too much. His mother had even moved you into the queen’s rooms, giving him fewer walls of separation between you and him. 

This was a horrible idea. Jihoon could almost always tell when he was getting close to shifting. It wasn’t going to happen tonight, but it was so close he could almost taste you in the air. Every sense was heightened and he felt on edge as he walked to your door, leaning his forehead against it before knocking. 

You were already dressed for sleep when you heard the knock at your door. The first instinct you have is that perhaps Jieun forgot to do something or to tell you something, but then Jihoon says your name. The floor is cold under your feet as you make your way to the door. Slipping your robe over your shoulders, you put your hand on your chest, feeling your heart beating so hard and loud that you are afraid that Jihoon might hear it. 

Cracking the door at first, you meet Jihoon’s eyes, a shy smile on your lips as you whisper a hello before pulling the door open so he can come in if he wants to. You don’t want to presume that you know why Jihoon is at your room after dark, but you have hope. “Do—do you want to come in?” 

Everything about you made Jihoon want to both run away and also stay exactly where he was. You were the picture of perfection in your white dressing gown and deep red robe hanging from one shoulder. Jihoon could see how nervous you were that he was there, but his own nerves matched, if not tenfold. “Um, yes, if you don’t mind.” 

Moving into your room, Jihoon sighs softly, glancing around. He had spent plenty of time in these rooms with his mother but they had looked completely different. You had managed to make the space your own and somehow that comforted Jihoon. Everything about you comforted him. 

“Is everything okay? You don’t normally visit me so lat—” 

“No, I know I don’t. I just—” His brows furrowing as he pushes his thumb into his palm, Jihoon scoffs, trying to think how to go about this. How did one approach bedding their wife when it was a duty to do so? Shaking the thought from his head, Jihoon smiles and meets your eyes, reaching for your hand and brushing his thumb along the back of your hand as you tilt your head curiously. “I’m not very good at this.” 

Your heart had been beating loudly before; now it was threatening to beat out of your chest as Jihoon looked at you the way he did and when he stepped towards you. This was happening? You were scared but excited. Even though you were inexperienced, you could still feel the arousal beginning to burn in your lower abdomen. You just hoped that you wouldn’t mess this up. 

Such a sweet and innocent look in your eyes that made Jihoon want to die on the spot. Someone like you shouldn’t be around him, especially when he wasn’t completely himself. When he was so close to shifting, his inhibitions were lower, he was more aggressive, and he found himself needing or at least wishing for someone in his bed. For the last year Jihoon had stopped giving into the beast and seeking out women he would never see again, but now you were standing in front of him with those doe-like eyes, not knowing your husband was a predator.  

“You are so beautiful, mon ange. Can I kiss you?” 

Jihoon had said he wasn’t very good at this, and yet you were practically whimpering as you told him yes to a simple kiss. You’d take anything because the heat of his eyes on you was like standing next to an open flame. You needed him to help you get through this and right now he looked like a lighthouse guiding you home. “Yes, please. Kiss me.” 

You shouldn’t sound so sweet and desperate. God, you really didn’t know what you were doing to him. Cupping your face in his hand, Jihoon brushes your cheek with his thumb before delicately placing a kiss on your pretty lips and listening to your whine. It wasn’t enough; he knew it wouldn’t be. It hadn’t been enough for him. “Shh—don’t talk right now.” 

The words confuse you, but you nod, feeling Jihoon’s lips find yours once more. Maybe this was how it went. You weren’t supposed to speak to your husband while you were in bed, but the deeper his kisses got, the more urgent they got, and you struggled to stay silent. Whines and half-spoken words slip from your breath as Jihoon’s hand finds your waist, pulling you close to him and letting you feel how warm his body had gotten. 

Jihoon almost felt as if he had a fever. He needed to get some of his clothes off; he could already feel his cock beginning to strain against his pants as you whined his name. Placing his finger against your lips, Jihoon meets your wide eyes as he uses his free hand to slide your robe down your arms, letting it fall to the ground at your feet. “Try not to talk, mon ange. I need you to listen to me.” Every time you spoke, it was like a red hot poker being stuck against his skin. The beast was very much awake and you had caught not only Jihoon’s interest but it’s interest as well. 

“‘M trying, Jihoon.” 

He knew you were. Your brows were knitted together so tightly and with every brush of his lips against bits of your exposed skin, you were almost choking on your moans to keep them silent. “I know. You’re doing well, baby. Come here.” 

A gasp slips from your lips when Jihoon’s hands slide over your backside and he squats down just enough to hoist you up. Surprised, you wrap your arms around his neck and cross your ankles around his back as he walks towards your bedroom door with his eyes fixed on yours. Not only had he shocked you by picking you up, but Jihoon had called you baby. He had your heart swooning and the butterflies in your stomach dancing by the time he laid you on your bed and laid over you, his lips finding yours again. 

Your lips were soft and even your muffled moans were like music to Jihoon’s ears as he nipped at your lips, feeling you arch your back, pushing your breasts towards him. Leaning back to look down at you, Jihoon smirks as he carefully unties the top of your dressing gown, watching you turn your head away from him shyly. Such a pure, perfect little flower he had under him—he had to keep himself in check. 

“Is this okay? If I see you?” 

Nodding with your head still off to the side, you whine when Jihoon’s thumb and forefinger grip your chin, gently turning your head back to the center so he can look at your face. 

“Don’t look away from me. You are so fucking beautiful, Y/N. You don’t have to hide anything that is mine.” 

That possessive nature wasn’t a natural thing for Jihoon. Of course he wanted you all to himself and he would fight for you, but he didn’t possess you. The beast brought something deep out of him and when he looked at you and smelled how sweet you were, it made Jihoon’s mouth water with desire. You were his—his wife.

“You are mine, right?” Gently tugging your gown down your arm, leaving just the top of your breasts exposed, Jihoon groans when you whine. “Aren’t you?” 

Warm breath fans over your neck and along the top of your chest before Jihoon’s lips walk in gentle kisses over every bit of your exposed skin as he waits for you to answer. Not wanting to break his rule about speaking, you nod as your fingers grip the blanket under you tightly, trying to keep yourself grounded. You had never felt like this in your life. No one had ever made you feel this desired or aroused until you met Lee Jihoon. 

Glancing up at you, Jihoon grins when you nod, staying silent. You were a good girl, trying to listen to what you were told and thank God for that. He was hanging on by a thread. “My pretty wife..." Muttering the words mostly to himself as he eases your gown further down your body, exposing more of your skin to him, Jihoon furrows his brows to just how perfect you are. Every curve, mole, scar, and blemish is like a work of art in front of him waiting to be explored. 

“Ah—Jihoon.” Pressing your head back against the blankets, you moan his name when Jihoon’s lips brush over your nipple, causing chillbumps to erupt along your skin. You hadn’t meant to speak but the feeling had surprised you so much that it had slipped from your lips before you realized. 

Nipping at the bud, Jihoon growls under his breath hearing you let out a choked sobbing moan as you try to pull back from his teeth. “Said to be quiet. I need for you to shu—” Stopping himself, Jihoon rests his forehead on your breast and takes a deep breath, bringing himself back down. “Please, baby? Try for me.”

Tears were sitting on the rims of your eyes out of fear of disappointing Jihoon. You were afraid he would leave you wanting because you couldn’t listen to him and follow one simple request, but again you nod as his thumb gently massages into your hips over your bunched-up gown.  

“Lift your hips. Good girl.” Jihoon felt as if he could grip the gown in his hands in half as he looked at you naked in front of him. He wanted to bury his cock inside of you so deep that you’d have an imprint of him left inside of you for weeks—that you’d crave him as much as he was craving you right now, but Jihoon wasn’t stupid and he wasn’t as much of an animal as the beast was trying to make him be. You truly seem as pure as he imagined as you shyly placed your hand over the center of your legs and bit your lip out of nerves. 

Sliding off the bed, Jihoon drops your gown to the floor and lets your watch as he rids himself of his shirt, letting your eyes slowly take in whats in front of you. “I am going to ask you a question and you can speak, okay, darling?” Waiting for you to nod, Jihoon sighs as he glances down at his pants undoing them, feeling your eyes on him still as he speaks. “I want the truth and I want you to know I won’t be upset or surprised either way you answer.” 

Fear makes its way through your mind as you wait for Jihoon’s question and as you watch him get undressed. You weren’t sure what was making you more nervous, not knowing what he might ask or seeing him completely. With your voice small, you nod and whisper, "Okay.” 

Jihoon knew the answer before he even asked it; his thumbs pushed into the top of his pants, but he needed to hear you say it. “Will I be your first?” There was a small nagging part of him that wondered if Mingyu had gotten to you first, if sometime in your past with him the man had managed to talk you into letting him— 

“Yes, Jihoon.” 

Of course you wouldn’t have let anyone talk you into anything. You were perfect. Sighing out a deep breath, Jihoon nods approvingly before pushing his pants down, letting them fall to the floor. Perhaps he should have gone slower and made sure you were ready, but Jihoon watches as your eyes widen before you turn your head away as if to give your husband privacy to be naked. 

“Mon ange… Look at me. I’m yours as much as you are mine.” 

It wasn’t that simple. You had seen Mingyu shirtless before and even that had sent your head into a tailspin, but seeing all of Jihoon and knowing that—that would be going inside of you—was almost too much to handle. Glancing towards him, you quickly look up at the ceiling as Jihoon laughs quietly, moving towards the bed, sliding his hand along your thigh, feeling the chillbumps once again covering your skin. 

“You are truly perfect. Here… move this.” Guiding your hand from between your legs, Jihoon groans under his breath, realizing it might have been a mistake. You were drenched with arousal and Jihoon could feel the hair beginning to stand up on the back of his neck even as he pressed a kiss to your fingertips, collecting the slick left on them before licking his lips clean. God, you tasted like a dream. He had to have you. He’d die if he didn’t. “Need you to stay quiet again for me, baby.” 

Why did you have to be quiet? How were you going to be quiet? Jihoon was kissing your leg and not just that; he was kissing the inside of your thigh, getting so close to your pussy—to where you needed him the most. Closing your fingers around the blanket, you point your toes and cry out in surprise when you feel Jihoon’s tongue run between your folds for the first time. You hadn’t meant to make a sound but the feeling had been so shocking and it had felt so good, you didn’t know what to do. 

Groaning to your taste, Jihoon pulls back from between your legs just enough to glance up at you, hearing your yelp. “Don’t.” He knew it was a lot to ask of you, especially when he buries his face right back into your pussy, letting his tongue circle your throbbing clit. He needed this to survive now, only this—only you and your body—that was what the beast was telling him as he growled loudly against your folds, his hands gripping your legs tightly, keeping you in place even as you squirmed. 

“Ah—” Gritting your teeth, you try even harder to stay quiet. You alternate between biting your cheeks to biting your lips to finally using your own hand to cover your mouth as you whine loudly behind it. There was a pressure building inside of you that you weren’t going to be able to stop and Jihoon didn’t seem to be stopping until he got what he wanted. Closing your thighs around Jihoon’s head, you lift your hips towards his mouth when you feel the pressure finally release. 

Easing your legs apart, Jihoon licks his lips, moving his eyes along your body as you try to calm down from your orgasm. He wasn’t done with you. He didn’t even want to take a break. Logic told him to take his time, to give you time, but animal instinct told him to take—and it was stronger than his logic as the moon shined high in the sky. 

“Taste so fucking good. Keep your legs open for me.” Using his thumbs to spread your folds, Jihoon spits onto them, watching you wiggle almost uncomfortably as he turns his right hand palm up before easing one finger into your tight hole, feeling you instantly clench down around it. 

You weren’t ready to keep going. You felt exhausted and your legs were shaking so hard that you felt like you wouldn’t even be able to walk if you wanted to. Whining Jihoon’s name and feeling his finger pushing into you, you reach for his wrist with one hand and grip the bedding under you with the other. “Wait—hurts.” 

Hearing you speak, Jihoon rolls his eyes and rests his head against your thigh, looking at your fingers resting on his wrist. He didn’t register what you had said, only that you were speaking— no, you were whining. “I told you not to speak. Didn’t I?” You push your feet down on the bed, a soft sob slipping from your lips and Jihoon eases a second finger into you, marvelling at how your pretty little pussy sucks him in. He can’t help but imagine it around his cock, feeling it throbbing against the bed, leaking profusely. 

It should feel good. That was what you had been told by every one of your cousins. Your husband should want to listen to how to make you feel good, especially the first time, so why was yours telling you to be quiet as his fingers painfully stretched you before you were ready? Tightening your hand around Jihoon’s wrist as tears run down your cheeks, you say his name louder, lifting your hips in an attempt to get away from him, only to feel him push you back down harshly. 

“What the fuck do you think—” With his thumb digging into your hip, Jihoon meets your eyes, seeing the fear and pain in them as tears drip off your cheeks. Carefully, he eases his fingers out of you and glances between your legs, making sure he hasn’t hurt you in any way, before sliding back on the bed, running his hand over his lips, shocked by himself. 

“I’m sorry, Jihoon. I just need a few minutes and then I can try again. It just felt—” 

“I need to go.” 

Sitting up in your bed, you watch horrified as Jihoon quickly pulls his clothes back on, keeping his eyes down from you. 

“What? No! Jihoon, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to mess it up. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never done this before.” 

God, Jihoon hated himself. He hated himself more than he had ever hated anyone or anything hearing you struggle to speak through your sobs. He knew he was breaking your heart again, but to him, that was better than hurting you or forcing something on you. 

“It’s not that, Y/N! I just—I have to go!” 

What had you done that was so wrong that Jihoon couldn’t even look at you as he left your room? Had you messed up that badly? Falling back on the pillows, hearing the door to your room slam shut, you draw your legs up towards your stomach and let go, sobbing loudly, not caring who or what might hear you as grief rips through you. You had Jihoon. You finally felt like his wife. You felt desired by him and now you felt discarded and completely alone again. 

16

You had only fallen asleep due to exhaustion. Now you were wandering the palace, feeling like everyone’s eyes were on you. It was like everyone knew that you had failed to not only fulfill your duty as Jihoon’s wife but as queen. The only person you had yet to see was Jihoon. It was like he was avoiding you. Quickly, you find out that you weren’t wrong in your suspicions. 

“I don’t want to deal with this bullshit today, Soonyoung! Tell Wonwoo to cancel it. I’m not doin—” Staring at you in the doorway to his study, Jihoon cuts off his own words, swallowing hard at the look on your face. He could see how exhausted you seemed to be and how swollen your eyes were even from across the room. You had been crying again. He couldn’t do this. Not today. “I’m busy, Y/N.” 

“You’re always busy, but couldn’t I have—” 

“Must you always insert yourself where you aren’t wanted or needed?” 

Visibly taken aback by Jihoon’s words, you put your hand on your chest, feeling your heart shatter. “This isn’t fair.” Your words are quiet, matching the stillness of the room as Jihoon stares at you and Soonyoung stands uncomfortably by his desk, unsure what to say or do. “Please talk to me for five minutes, Jihoon. You owe me that.” 

Lifting his hand to dismiss Soonyoung, Jihoon leans back in his chair and runs his fingers through his hair, hearing the rumbling in his ears as you walk into the room past Soonyoung, letting him close the door behind him. It was a horrible idea for him to be alone with you. It was already later in the afternoon and Jihoon had already argued with nearly every single person he had come into contact with today. He didn’t need you to be another. “I really don’t have time for this today.” 

He never had time for you. That was what your brain and heart were telling you. This was how the rest of your life was going to be. Your life with Jihoon had been a series of extreme ups and downs and you were the lowest you had ever been at this moment. Wiping under your eyes, you nod, moving closer to his desk, knowing he would probably only give you exactly the five minutes you requested. “Then I thank you for your generosity in allowing me to speak to you. I just need you to explain to me what’s wrong with me, Jihoon. Why do I disgust you so much that you would treat me like you do and leave me like you did? I need to understand what I can do to change and be who you want me to be, because I fear you are stuck with me and all I can do is apologize for that.” 

Your words take the air from Jihoon’s lungs and leave him speechless at first. He knew you were unhappy and upset after what had happened last night, but the idea that you thought that he found you disgusting made Jihoon’s mouth feel dry like a desert that hadn’t seen rain in centuries. “You don’t have to change a thing. There’s nothing wrong with—” 

“That’s obviously not true. If that were true, you would have stayed last night, and we would have... Things would not have ended like they did. Jihoon, you wouldn’t even look at me when you left.” 

Jihoon could feel the frustration rising in him. It wasn’t your fault that he was so quick to anger but why couldn’t you just let this go? Why did you have to push this today? If you could give him just one more day to get this out of his system, he’d be calmer, but no, here you were cutting him off and raising your voice. “I’m not dealing with this shit today, Y/N. I don’t have to and I won’t.” 

Shocked by Jihoon’s response, you take a step closer to his desk, watching him recoil further into his chair. “Are you kidding me? You don’t think that you owe me—” 

“I don’t owe you anything! I–fuck! Go to your room. It’s getting late and you know the rules.” 

Surely Jihoon had to be kidding. There was no way that he thought that he could get away with talking to you like this today after everything the two of you had been through over the past few months. This sounded more like the Jihoon that had ruined your bracelet after your engagement party. “No! I don’t have to just obey when you speak, Jihoon!” 

Standing up quickly from his seat, Jihoon barely flinches when the wooden chair hits the wall with a crash that causes you to gasp and take a step back. “Yes, you do. Did you forget your vows, my sweet wife? To love, honor, and obey. So fucking obey and go to your goddamn room and lock the door for the night. I don’t want to see you until tomorrow.” 

When you don’t move quickly enough for Jihoon, your mouth opening and closing in disbelief, he sighs loudly, moving around his desk to grab your arm, feeling you struggle against his grip as he leads you towards the door opening as you protest. 

“Let me go, Jihoon! God, you are a monster!” 

Making you walk towards your room, Jihoon growls under his breath as his eyes start to shift to golden. “You have no fucking idea, darling.” Seething, Jihoon tugs open your door and pushes you inside, letting you stumble as you try to turn around to stop him before he slams the door in your face. “Lock it!” Standing still, Jihoon stares at your door until he hears the lock click into place and only then does he turn back down the hall towards the front of the palace, feeling the night calling to him.

You were confused and pissed off by how Jihoon had treated you. Rubbing your hand along your bicep, you wince in pain, feeling the bruise forming under the skin from how hard he had gripped your arm, forcing you into your room just a few short hours ago. Now the sun was setting and you were feeling less afraid and more annoyed. 

Fuck Jihoon. Fuck his stupid rules. The room felt small despite it’s size and you felt like you were suffocating. Looking at the door, you nod firmly as you make up your mind, turning the lock to disengage it before pulling the door open quickly, half expecting Jihoon to be angrily waiting on the other side. Instead, you find no one, just a dimly lit hallway like always. “He’s ridiculous.” 

It doesn’t cross your mind what had happened to Mingyu. None of the ghost stories or animal attacks so much as even visit your thoughts as you tug your robe around your dressing gown and walk confidently into the hall with one goal in mind—you were going to go outside. You were going to enjoy the night air for the first time in months. 

It had been so long since you had seen the stars from more than your bedroom window. Stepping out onto the courtyard, you smile up at the sky as you take in a deep breath of fresh air, taking a left into the gardens, intending to take a short walk. You were being rebellious but you weren’t planning on being recklessly stupid. You weren’t going to leave the palace grounds. 

The flowers and trees looked different under the moonlight. They felt different under your fingertips somehow too. Perhaps that was the subtle dew that was settling on them as the nightair shifted into something a bit colder, causing you to hold your robe a bit tighter around yourself. You loved how quiet it was out here. There were no echoing voices from the palace. You weren’t hearing Jihoon’s voice screaming in your head; instead, there was just the gentle sound of the wind and crickets. Or there had been crickets. 

Tilting your head, you try to strain your ears to listen for the sounds of the bugs when a sudden exhale from just outside the wall startles you, making you jump and cover your mouth to keep from screaming. It didn’t sound human, but it did sound large and it was moving. 

Keeping your body low, though you know whatever is on the other side of the wall can’t see you, you listen to the deep breaths of the creature and follow it along the line of the wall towards the large golden gate. You know you should stop where you are; logic is screaming for you to stay hidden but your curiosity takes over when you catch sight of the large bear just outside of the courtyard gates. 

You had never seen a bear so large in your life. Its fur was dark and the pattern was unusual to you for a bear. It didn’t seem like any sort of bear that you had ever read about or been told about—this was something new. Taking a step out towards the gate, you think the bear is far enough away from the gate that perhaps you can watch it head back towards the forest, but your shoe catches a pebble and its head turns, alarmed by the sound, and catches your eyes. Golden? You could see them from here almost clearly. You were transfixed and terrified, stuck in place until the bear rushed the gate, hitting it so hard that you realized what you were doing and took a step back with a gasp only to loose your footing and fall backwards on your butt.

“Oh my god…” 

When you speak, the bear seems to focus on your face, a look of recognition in it’s eyes before it growls, scratching at the ground near your leg through the gate. Kicking your legs to get away from the claws you whine when you feel your gown get tugged, pulling you back towards where you were trying to escape, drawing your eyes down to where the bear’s claws were digging into the ground and your gown. “No, no! Please!” 

Tears stream down your cheeks as you try to pull yourself free, but then searing pain tears through your thigh when the bear’s claws tear through your gown, skin, and muscle. Screaming out of fear and pain, you lay back on the ground, feeling hands on your waist as someone pulls you away from the gate until the snarling of the bear is so distant that you can barely hear it anymore. 

“Madame!” You looked pale, blood was seeping from the wound on your thigh quickly and Wonwoo was starting to panic. “Fuck!” Pulling you into his arms, the steward is able to get you inside the house and on to the same floor where they had laid Mingyu the morning Jihoon had found him. 

“What happened?!” 

“You know what happened! Look at her leg, Jieun. Soonyoung get the doctor, now!” 

17

Some nights that Jihoon would shift felt more like a nightmare than others. Last night had to be the worst nightmare of Jihoon’s life—except it hadn’t been a dream. Rubbing his fingers over the silk in his hand, Jihoon sits up in a panic, putting his free hand on his chest, struggling to breathe, remembering your frantic screams of pain as Wonwoo managed to get you away from him. What the fuck had he done? 

Jumping to his feet, Jihoon groans to the pain in his head and body as he pushes through it, starting the run back towards the palace, feeling the rocks biting into his feet. Normally he would wait for Soonyoung to find him and to give him clothes but he didn’t care today. You were hurt or possibly worse. Jihoon had to find you and make sure that you were okay. He had to fix this. How the fuck could he fix this? 

“Jihoon!” Sliding off the back of his horse, Soonyoung shakes his head, pulling the bundle of clothes from the back of the saddle, as he watches Jihoon run past him naked and panicking. He had seen all sides of his best friend before. The anger, the sadness, and the panic, but never had he seen him be willing to run through the forest completely naked. “Jihoon, stop!” 

Hearing Soonyoung’s voice, Jihoon turns back towards him and runs to him, grabbing his shirt as he tries to keep his emotions in check, quickly failing as the panic slips through. “Is she alive?” 

“Yes, yes! I’ll get you back to her, but put on some clothes first. You can’t just run to the palace like this. You—” Sighing seeing the desperate look in Jihoon’s eyes, Soonyoung grips Jihoon’s shoulder reassuringly. “You’re the king. Pull yourself together.” 

Jihoon wasn’t sure how he was supposed to keep himself together. The entire ride back to the palace Soonyoung reminded him to remain calm on multiple occasions until they reached the stable and he was able to go search for you. It was clear that the others in the palace were on high alert. This was different from any other time that Jihoon had attacked or killed anyone. It wasn’t even that it was you; it was that you were the queen. 

“Where is she?” 

Wonwoo knew that Jihoon would be back soon. He could see that the man looked worse for wear, but he always did after a night in the forest. He would prefer if he bathed and took care of himself before going to see you, but the look in Jihoon’s eyes told him that wasn’t going to happen. “In her room with the doctor. Sire!” When Jihoon doesn’t stop, his steps quick towards the hallway that would lead him to you, Wonwoo sighs, “Jihoon!” 

Tears were already sitting on the rims of Jihoon’s eyes when he turned around to meet Wonwoo. He didn’t want to talk to anyone else before he saw you. He needed to see you or else he was going to die right there on the spot. His heart would give out from guilt and grief. “What!” 

“She was asking for you all night. I told her that you were out. I couldn’t explain where.” 

Leaning his head back to try to keep the tears from spilling over, Jihoon nods and sniffs hard, knowing that he had hurt you in so many ways. He wasn’t even there when you needed him the most, when you were asking for him while you were scared and in pain. He was a failure and a monster. Just like you had called him.  

You had been in and out of consciousness over the last few hours since the attack. You weren’t feeling much of the pain from the medicine, which was also helping you to sleep. Even now as the doctor changed out your bandages, his brows furrowed at the deep gashes he had stitched closed, you barely flinched, and you didn’t notice Jihoon moving into the room, his eyes glossing over at the sight of you. 

“Is—will she be okay?” 

The doctor hadn’t expected anyone else to be in the room, so when Jihoon spoke, the older man sighs, lifting his hand to his chest to calm himself down before looking towards him and lowering his head in respect. “Yes, sire. The butler was able to get me to her quickly and I stopped the bleeding. There will be scarring, but the queen will be fine as long as we keep infection from settling in the wounds.” 

Nodding along with his words, Jihoon moves closer as the doctor finishes up his task, moving from your bedside, allowing Jihoon to take his place at your side. You looked so small and fragile as you slept. Jihoon felt like his heart was being crushed as he looked over your sweet face and then down at your thigh, where blood was already beginning to seep through the bandages that the doctor had just replaced. 

All of the emotions that Jihoon had been trying to keep at bay come to the surface with that blood, knowing that he did this to you. You were going to be in pain because of him. Tears stream down Jihoon’s face as he closes his eyes and rests his forehead against his hand, his elbow on his knee just letting you rest. He didn’t want to disturb you—he didn’t want to do anything to cause you discomfort ever again. 

“Jihoon?” 

Your voice brings Jihoon back to the moment and causes his shoulders to shake as he chokes back a sob hearing how weak you sound. Sniffing back his tears, Jihoon licks the tears from his lips and opens his eyes to meet yours before taking your hand and squeezing it gently, unsure what to even say. 

“Where were you? I—” Wincing as you try to move in the bed wanting to sit up, you fall back down on your pillows, feeling Jihoon helping you get back to where you were, his fingers brushing over your cheek. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I—I don’t even…” How was he going to lie to you again? He couldn’t tell you that he did this. How could he? “I was called away last minute and I was out—” 

“What? That makes no sense.” Shaking your head, you sniff back your own tears, knowing he is lying to you. “Jihoon, I was alone and afraid. I just—please don’t lie to me.” 

Taking a deep breath, Jihoon tries to think of what to say next, his eyes moving from your face to your leg and back multiple times. You find yourself wondering if he is disgusted by it and what scars will remain. Reaching for the sheet near your leg, you pull it over your bandages and lower your head in shame, causing Jihoon’s resolve to break. 

“Fuck—Y/N. I—” Choking on his own sob, Jihoon shakes his head, moving to his feet even as you reach for him, starting to feel concerned and confused by his reaction. “I’m so sorry. I’ll never let something like this happen to you again. I swear.” 

“You couldn’t have prevented—” Watching Jihoon turn and move out of your bedroom, you force yourself to sit up despite the pain, wanting to stop him even though you are unable. “Jihoon!” 

Even hearing you yell his name sends Jihoon down a darker spiral, his fingers tugging at his hair as he leans against your closed door, the tears dripping off his cheeks and on to his shirt. 

“Sire?” 

Wonwoo… Closing his eyes at hearing Wonwoo’s voice, Jihoon knocks his head back against the wooden door as the thought comes to him of what he has to do and who would help him do it. If anyone in this palace would listen to him, it was Wonwoo. 

“I need you to help me with something.” 

“Okay, what—” 

“And Y/N… she doesn’t need to know.” 

18

It had been a week and a half since the attack and everyone in the palace was acting off. They were being too nice to you. You knew that you were queen, but this went beyond that. It went beyond being injured... something was wrong and Jihoon was nowhere to be found. 

“Wonwoo?” 

You were back again. Humming along with your questioning voice, Wonwoo gestures along with what he wants a few of the other servants to do, barely giving you a second glance even as you stand in front of him. 

“Where is he?” 

“I told you, Madame, he is away on business.” 

He had told you many times over the past week and every single time it smelled like shit. Jihoon didn’t go places. He didn’t do business outside of Aetherial Grove. 

“Which kingdom again?” 

“Multiple kingdoms, Madam. Is there anything else? Jieun can see to it. Excuse me.” 

All of Jihoon’s things were still in his room. How and why would he leave without a single item? There was something wrong and you weren’t going to just take this lying down. There was something you were missing; you just had to find it. 

There were so many places in the palace that you had yet to see that you discovered in your search for clues on where Jihoon had really gone. There were multiple staircases that you had yet to go up or down. Some led to rooms you had seen by other avenues and others took you by surprise when you discovered another study overlooking the garden. But it was the staircase that led down past the servants quarters that shocked you the most. 

From the outside, looking in, the palace of Aetherial Grove was grand and tall. It never dawned on you that anything menacing might lie inside the intricate golden gates and beneath her marble floors. What you found was dark and secluding as you stayed in the middle of the aisle among the empty cells of the dungeon. 

While it made you feel better that the dungeon wasn’t overflowing with people begging you to be freed, it still made you feel oppressed as you wrapped your arms around yourself, searching deeper and deeper and wondering who might have been there at one point. Thornwood did not have a dungeon; there had never been a need for one. Your mother had read you old stories of kingdom’s with dragons and princesses locked away in their dungeons, and now as you walked around one, you shuddered at the thought. 

It seemed to go on forever in the dim light. The cells as dark as the walls, you were about to give up and return to the upper floors of the palace when shuffling from a cell to your right startles you. It had to be a trick of your mind and nothing more, but as you got closer, you could hear panicked breaths behind the thick iron cell door.

“He—hello? Is there someone in there?” 

Covering his head with his hands, Jihoon knows he has to be imagining you. It wouldn’t be the first time since he had made Wonwoo put him in the dungeon that he had started to hallucinate. Shaking his head, muttering no, no, no, he laughs a bit manically under his breath as he glances up towards the small, barred window, seeing fingers gripping the iron. “Stop it…” 

Jihoon’s voice sends a shiver down your spine and for a moment you stare at the door in front of you like it’s not even there. It feels impossible to hear him in a place like this and not only that but to hear him sound like that—so weak and scared. “Oh my god! Jihoon?” 

Tugging at the handle of the cell door, you feel warm tears run down your cheeks when it won’t budge. Why was he locked inside of a cell? This was insane. He was the king of this palace for godsakes. “Jihoon! I can’t—the door won’t—it’s locked!” 

You were actually there? No, there was no way. Moving to his feet, Jihoon winces to the light through the bars when he sees your eyes as you rise to your toes, trying to see inside the cell. You were so beautiful. It was painful to see you. “Go away, Y/N.” 

Shaking your head, you tug at the door again in vain, not understanding Jihoon’s words. It didn’t make sense to you. “I—I don’t understand! I can’t go away. I won’t! I have to get someone to get you out of here. Who put you here?!” 

The laughter starts low and soft until finally Jihoon can’t hold it back. It was all ridiculous to him now. He hated himself so fucking much and he loved you just as much only to have a solid iron wall between the two of you now. That was the only way you were safe, and even then, Jihoon knew he could break it down if he tried hard enough—if the beast tried hard enough. “Who put you here?!” 

Taken aback when Jihoon mimics your words and the tone of your voice, you stare into his cell, trying to see him better. With limited light making it’s way into the cell, you could only see bits and pieces of him, but it was enough to tell he was naked and filthy. There was dirt and... was that blood? No, you were letting your fear get the better of you. 

“What’s wrong, Jihoon?” Pushing your fingers back through the bars, you sob out the words watching your husband move closer to the door, feeling a chill run down your spine seeing him closer. He didn’t look like himself at all. Jihoon was always well put together, but now his hair was matted with dirt and there was a look on his face you didn’t recognize—and his eyes. His eyes were so different. Why did those eyes look so familiar? Those golden eyes?

Sliding his fingers over yours, Jihoon’s eyes take in every bit of you that he can, knowing that he might never see you again. He thinks back to seeing you laying in bed, the blood seeping through the bandages as you whined in your sleep before waking up and asking him things he couldn’t answer. “Please leave me. Do this for me.”

You could hear the sorrow in Jihoon’s voice that it was breaking you in pieces. Why would he want to stay here? This wasn’t something he could ask of you. Shaking your head, you start to argue with him when Jihoon’s voice becomes more frantic, his fingers holding yours tightly behind the door. 

“Please! Please?! Y/N, can’t you do this one thing for me? Let me die down here where I can’t hurt you!” 

Trying to pull your hand away from Jihoon as you sob, you try to say his name when you feel an arm wrap around your waist and another around your wrist, easing you back from the cell door. 

“Let go of her, Sire... now.” 

Growling from inside the cell makes your blood run cold, but Jihoon’s fingers slide from yours and Wonwoo is able to bring your hand down from the door and to your stomach, where he holds it to you tightly. 

“It’s time to go back upstairs, Madame.” 

Why was Wonwoo always part of things like this? Trying to pull from his grasp, you whine his name, finding his grip too strong as he turns with you in his arms, walking back the way you had come. Behind you, you hear Jihoon’s growling soften into a whimper of your name as you lean your head back against Wonwoo’s chest, begging the man to let you go so you can go back for your husband. 

“I can’t. Please walk or I’ll have to carry you.” 

“I hate you. You did this, didn’t you? Why did you lock him in there?!” 

Sighing to the tone of your voice when you scream at him, Wonwoo bends his knees and pulls you into his arms much like he had the night he had saved you from the beast. Even though you push at his chest and struggle to get loose from him, you find yourself unable to grow wearier with each step up towards the light. 

“Because he asked me to, Madame.” 

19

Over the next few days, you find yourself getting lost in the palace as you attempt to find the staircase to the dungeon again. You had known where it was. You had seen Jihoon and felt his hand on yours, and yet by the time that you had made it upstairs with Wonwoo, it was as if exhaustion had clouded your mind, causing you to become confused and disoriented. 

You knew better than to ask Wonwoo for his help. He was keeping a closer eye on you, ever looming at every step you took and always directing you in the direction of your parlor or the library for a distraction. He was always reminding you that Jihoon was away on business. He was always lying to you, even though he knew that you knew the truth. 

It wasn’t until the fourth day that you managed to get Soonyoung’s facade to crack. You had watched him wander aimlessly around the palace only to look at you and start to say something before turning in the other direction. Something was on his mind and you knew what it was. He hated the idea of Jihoon in the dungeon as much as you did; he had to. That was his best friend. 

“Stop walking away from me.” 

Shaking his head as he continues walking away from you, Soonyoung furrows his brows, feeling his stomach twist with anxiety as you continue to follow with a limp in your step. “I’m not, madame... I’m just—I’m trying to get something done.” 

“Stop lying to me, Soonyoung! Stop making me chase you.” 

You were out of breath and Soonyoung felt horrible, but it wasn’t until he heard you wince in pain and heard the sound of you hitting the floor that he stopped in his tracks, running back towards you. Moving his eyes quickly over your face and down your body, Soonyoung feels the anxiety in him turning to panic as his hand hovers over your leg before he gives in and meets your eyes. “Are you hurt? Do I need to get the doctor? Is it your leg?” 

Dropping your act, you let out a slow, calming breath, grabbing Soonyoung’s hand and keeping him close to you. “I’m fine; I don’t want a doctor. I want my husband.” 

Opening his mouth in awe, Soonyoung is genuinely impressed by your willingness to go so far as to feign reinjuring yourself. You were a strong-willed woman and even more strong-willed since you became queen. Swallowing hard, Soonyoung shakes his head, looking down at the floor in front of you as you tell him what you want. He starts to tell you the same thing everyone else has when you grab his chin and make him meet your eyes. 

“I just—I want to take him food. Help me get back down there, please? I just want to see him for a few minutes. You can do this much for me.” 

Soonyoung knew this was a horrible idea as he walked in front of you, leading you down into the dungeon. Wonwoo would kill him and then blame it on someone else if this went poorly. Everyone had been warned not to let you come back down to the cells and yet here Soonyoung was doing just that and leading you right to Jihoon. “Ten minutes, Y/N... Anymore and Wonwoo will come looking for you.” 

You watch as Soonyoung looks inside Jihoon’s cell with his brows furrowed before he unlocks the cell door and steps back, letting you pull the door open. What you find is very different from what you had expected. Jihoon had seemed delusional and manic the last time you had seen him; now, while he seemed confused and afraid, he was lucid. 

Tears instantly fill your eyes at the sight of him as you move into the cell and put the plate of food on the bench. Moving to Jihoon, you throw your arms around his neck, feeling him carefully hold on to your waist. What you don’t see are Jihoon’s eyes locked on Soonyoung's, full of confusion and anger, before he buries his face against your neck, enjoying the moment knowing he has to let you go. 

“Why are you here, mon ange?” 

He really was different. This was your Jihoon now. Shaking your head, you sit beside him and carefully inspect him, lifting your hand to brush your fingers over his cheek, feeling Jihoon lean into your touch. “Miss you so much. Why—I—I brought you food.” Turning back to the plate, you put it on your lap and watch Jihoon’s smile turn sad as he nods gratefully. 

“I eat, darling. I don’t—I’m not starving.” He missed you terribly. This was making it worse. He had realized he loved you and now he was keeping himself from you. You were sitting right next to him, teasing him with the possibility of having his wife in his life, and Jihoon couldn’t take it. “You can’t be down here. Soonyoung, you need—” 

“Please, Jihoon. End this. Come upstairs and back to me? I’ll do anything. I’m sorry for whatever I did—” 

“You didn’t do anything, Y/N. I did. I—you don’t get it.” 

You didn’t and yet, as always, Jihoon wasn’t explaining it. “Then explain it to me. I need my husband. I cannot and will not live my life like this with you living in a cell.” 

You had every right to be angry with Jihoon. That was better than blindly trusting him. Looking towards the door, Jihoon sighs. Following his eyes, you see how the door is bent and scratched. That hadn’t been there before. It didn’t make any sense. How had Jihoon done that to a solid iron door? He seemed so normal and calm now compared to how he had been before. Did you even really want to know the answer to any of the questions you were asking yourself? 

“Or—just come home. You seem so much better.” 

“I do feel better, for now.” Jihoon wasn’t lying. He was a couple days out from shifting at this point and this was when he felt the best he could. He was on top of the world and could accomplish anything, but soon he would be right back where he was. You had visited him right before he shifted last time. You had put yourself in danger once again unnecessarily and that was what terrified Jihoon. You didn’t listen. “But you always—you didn’t stay inside that night, Y/N.” 

“I’ll stay inside! Forever!” Grabbing Jihoon’s hand, you blink through tears and pull his hand to your lips as you beg him to end this. “I swear it. Please?” 

Jihoon feels his chest tightening as you kiss his knuckles and as your tears hit his skin. He knows he should say no and stay where he is. No one, especially you, can be hurt or killed while he is locked away, but then you meet his eyes and plead with him once more and Jihoon’s resolve breaks. “Okay, mon ange.” 

20

There was ignorance and then there was blissful ignorance. For a week you had attempted to be blissfully ignorant, enjoying the presence of Jihoon back in the palace. Things had gone back to normal as much as they could, though you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that was growing inside of you. 

So much about your life in Aetherial Grove didn’t make sense. Jihoon didn’t make sense and how everyone acted around him didn’t make sense. They treated him as if he were made of glass, so fragile that one wrong word and he might break. You were the only person to not treat him this way and many times you found yourself being chastised for doing so and being reminded that the king has a fragile temperament. 

Even with all of the looming anxiety and building tension in the palace, you had kept your word to Jihoon and stayed inside each and every night for close to two weeks. Not once in those two weeks did he come to your bed or make an effort to be closer to you than he already was and you found yourself growing more and more weary as the days crept by, wondering if this was the life you were resigned to. 

It wasn’t until Jihoon had kissed you gently one evening and whispered his goodnight wishes to you earlier than any other night that week that you found yourself feeling defiant. You had promised not to go outside, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t wander the palace after dark. You could go to Jihoon’s room and speak to him about how you were feeling—surely this would be allowed. 

So that was where you found yourself, standing in front of Jihoon’s open door, finding it empty. He had said he was tired and that he was going to bed not ten minutes ago and yet there was no one to be found. Sighing under your breath, you tug your robe around you tighter and furrow your brows as you start to go back towards your room when you hear the sounds of the heavy front doors shutting. Why would anyone be going outside at this time of the night? You weren’t allowed to, so surely no one else was either. 

Following the sound, you let your hand hover over the door before finally pushing it open and shivering instantly to the cold night air, stepping out into the darkness feeling a pang of guilt in your stomach. You were breaking your promise, but something wasn’t right. There was someone at the gates and they were open. Moving towards them, you start to speak when you find yourself horrified and shocked as you watch Soonyoung easing the gate closed as Jihoon falls to the ground just outside of it, his skin ripping as something bursts through the muscle. What was happening? Why wasn’t Soonyoung helping him? 

With your hand on your stomach, you try to run with your leg beginning to burn and Jihoon’s name on your lips when you find yourself collapsing as Jihoon’s body starts to change in front of your eyes. Limbs break and between his screams, he growls like an animal. Fur takes the place of his skin and quickly he becomes something you had seen once before when it had attacked you. 

Turning back towards the palace, his head bursting with tension and anxiety, Soonyoung stops in his tracks just a few feet from the gate when he sees you sitting on your knees in front of him. Terror takes the place of his anxiety as Soonyoung runs towards you, pulling you to your feet as Jihoon snarls at the gate, pushing against it, seeing you both there. “Y/N! You can’t be out here! You promised!” 

With the wind biting at your face, tears drip off your cheeks and onto your gown as you stare at Jihoon’s golden eyes as he tries to push in the gate, finding it impossible. You push at Soonyoung’s chest as he tries to lift you, your eyes locked on Jihoon, until hands hold either side of your face, making you look at Soonyoung. “We have to go inside! The gate is strong but if he tries harder, it won’t hold.” 

“Is that….” You knew the answer to your question and yet it didn’t seem real as Soonyoung pulled you to your feet, feeling you collapse only a few feet from the palace doors. "Soonyoung, is that Jihoon?! Did he—Mingyu? Me?!” 

Shaking his head, Soonyoung wants to tell you no. He wants to make you get up and tell you that it’s all a bad dream but he can’t so instead he stays silent and gestures towards the door. 

“Tell me!” 

“Soonyoung, go inside. I’ll tell her.” 

Lifting your eyes toward the doors as light spreads out along the courtyard, you and Soonyoung stop everything to meet the eyes of Jihoon’s mother, seeing a solemn look on her face. You watch as Soonyoung starts to argue only for her to lift her hand and for her to offer it to you to take. 

“I’ll explain it all.”

21

The ground is hard under Jihoon and yet his body doesn’t feel nearly as cold as it usually does when he wakes up early in the mornings. He can hear the birds chirping and the trees shifting with the gentle wind. If it weren’t for the rocks under his body and the ache in his muscles, it would almost be peaceful—welcomed. 

Jihoon could remember seeing Soonyoung dragging you back to the palace the night before. He hadn’t attacked you; thank God for that, but you had lied to him. That would be something he would have to deal with once he got back to the palace, but for the time being, Jihoon lay quietly, feeling the sun heating up the blanket draped over his body. 

Then it dawns on him that there is a blanket covering him. Not once has he ever woken up to something like this. Soonyoung would often be waiting for him with clothes and sometimes even something warm to eat or drink, but he had never gotten close enough to cover him as he slept. Someone had. 

Lifting his head, Jihoon searches around him and that’s when he sees you sitting with your back against a tree, your eyes moving over a book resting on your lap. Why the fuck were you here? Panicked Jihoon takes a sharp breath, sitting up almost too quickly, feeling the blood rushing to his head. There was no reason for you to be out in the forest—no reason for you to be near him like this... unless you knew. 

Muttering your name under his breath, Jihoon notices the clothes folded next to him and whines, realizing how much you seemed to prepare for this moment. You seemed to have been waiting for a while. Even now hearing him panic behind you, the only sign that you knew he was awake was the way you turned your head further, offering him more privacy. 

Tugging the pants over his legs, Jihoon looks from you and back down to the ground as he stumbles, trying to hurry as he attempts to walk and dress at the same time. Fear was taking hold of him; it was coursing through his veins like never before and by the time that he was dressed, he found himself falling to his knees in front of you with tears in his eyes and shaking his head. 

“I—I’m so sorry, mon ange. I’m—” Swallowing hard as he meets your eyes, Jihoon loses the composure he had, the tears streaming down his cheeks once you close your book. “I’m a monster, Y/N. You don’t deserve this shit. You—fuck… I hurt yo—” 

Jihoon wants to explain it all and make you understand how sorry and dangerous he is but all his words jumble together. None of it seems to matter to you as you lift your hand, resting it against his cheek, your thumb brushing the tears from it as you shush him, shaking your head along with his words. 

Leaning into your touch, Jihoon lets out a shaky sob, cupping your hand his own and bringing it to his lips to kiss your palm when you don’t speak. He was terrified of what you might say, but you say nothing and yet he can feel it all as you simply sit with him in the moment. 

Hand in hand, you and Jihoon finally make your way back to the palace. You feel his thumb brush the back of your hand as he takes deep breaths to keep himself steadfast, knowing it’s not just your eyes on him anymore. Now you understand him. You understand it all. While it doesn’t make any of what had happened to you or any other woman that came to Aetherial Grove right, you still understand it, and it’s not Jihoon’s fault. 

He didn’t choose this curse. He wasn’t the person who was at fault and yet he was the one who bore it. You had sat watching him sleep that morning and decided that he wouldn’t bear it alone. 

“I’m just going to get cleaned up, darling, and then we can talk a bit more.” 

Standing at the door to Jihoon’s room, you smile at him as he lifts your hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to each one before he starts to turn to leave you. “Jihoon.” 

You hadn’t spoken much to Jihoon since he had woken up and yet that was okay. There was something in your comforting silence that made Jihoon feel at peace. Hearing his name on your lips now was almost a welcomed surprise that had him half concerned and intrigued as Jihoon brushed his fingers over your cheek, humming questioningly as your eyes searched his face. 

“Can I stay? Let me help you.” 

Innocent and his. Parting his lips to let out a soft breath, Jihoon tries to think of how to speak but you don’t let him dwell on it. You take his hand in yours and open the door to his room, leading him in on your own. 

There was always a bath ready for Jihoon by the time he was back from the forest; today wasn't the exception. Stripping off the clothes you had brought him one by one, Jihoon furrows his brows and tries to muffle a pained groan as he feels the tension in his back muscles knowing you aren’t too far away. 

From where you were, you could see Jihoon out of the corner of your eye as you kept your eyes down once again, attempting to give your husband his privacy until he was in the water. You had seen him naked the night he had come to your room and briefly before you covered him with the blanket, but still you felt your cheeks heat up at the thought. 

Hearing the water break and shift, you take in a deep breath, listening to Jihoon’s sighs of relief before finally lifting your eyes and moving towards him as he watches you. His eyes had been intense before but knowing what you know now, somehow they felt different. You weren’t necessarily scared of him and you didn’t pity him, but there was something about him that kept you on your toes. 

Jihoon could see the shy look on your face as you swallowed your breath sitting on the side of the tub, keeping your eyes averted from looking down into the water. He was your husband and still you were so sweet and innocent you were afraid to look. Perhaps that was his fault—no, he knew it was. 

Sighing softly as he watches you lather your hands with soap, Jihoon anticipates your touch only to feel a shiver run through his body when you finally do touch him. Your hands are gentle and soft, matching how delicate you really are as you work the soap into his skin along the top of his shoulders. “You don’t have to help me with this.” Even though Jihoon speaks, his words saying one thing, he closes his eyes, relishing in the feeling of you, causing you to smile softly. 

“I want to. You’re my husband and I—” Rubbing your lips together, you swallow your words, tilting your head as Jihoon leans his head back, letting your hand slide over his chest, dragging the lather with it. You know what you want to say—how you feel about Jihoon, but it terrifies you almost as much as watching him shift or as much as feeling the arousal bubbling in your stomach as you help him bathe. You know you are being selfish. 

Furrowing his brows hearing you stop talking, your words unspoken, Jihoon opens his eyes and looks up at your pretty face, watching your eyes avoid his in place of looking at your hand as you work. “And?” 

Trying to smile and distract Jihoon from wanting to know more, you shake your head, reaching for the soap once again before shrugging. You sigh out a breath, trying to keep your attention on the task at hand, feeling yourself shaking slightly as your fingers work close to the waterline, feeling Jihoon’s muscles tense under your touch. 

“Fuck—” Biting his lips, Jihoon sucks in a breath, knowing you aren’t trying to seduce him even as you spread the lather over his stomach, your fingers dipping below the water. “Baby—” Leaning his head back, Jihoon reaches for your hand, wrapping his fingers around yours carefully, keeping it in place as he feels his cock twitching under the water, getting harder from just your innocent touch. 

It’s only when Jihoon stops you and you watch him take in deep breaths to try to calm himself that you realize your error and your eyes shift to the bathwater. “I’m sorry. Do—I can fix it.” 

Scoffing under his breath, Jihoon licks his lips and shakes his head, wondering to himself if you’d even know how to fix it. Would his sweet angelic wife know what to do with his cock all on her own? God, it was horrible for him to want to know, especially after everything that you had been through because of him. “It’s okay, mon ange. It’ll go away in a bit.” 

Feeling Jihoon’s fingers pat yours over his stomach, you pout to yourself as he keeps his eyes closed. You know deep down that he is trying to be kind and keep your innocence, but you find yourself offended by it and feel like a challenge is placed in front of you. Humming under your breath, you work your hand free from Jihoon’s feeling his stomach suck in under your touch as he mutters your name when your touch timidly goes lower. Perhaps you didn’t have all the practice, but you weren’t going to be put in your room and told to lock the door now that you knew what you knew. You were going to know everything. 

“Ah—wait!” Hissing out a breath, Jihoon’s eyes open widely to look between your face and down to the water as you wrap your fingers around his cock and stroke him once, holding him tightly. Holding the tub with one hand, he puts his other around your hand, loosening your grip slightly as you meet his eyes before guiding you. “Shit—like that, okay?” 

Adjusting with Jihoon’s help, you nod, your lip caught between your teeth as you feel his cock throb in your hand as you run your hand over it slowly. You can't help but be intrigued by the feeling and enjoying the weight of it in your hand as you feel the arousal pooling between your legs, causing you to whimper out a yes in response to Jihoon’s directions. 

“Feels good, darling. You are so beautiful. I—shit… You are too pretty to touch me, you know that?” Furrowing his brows, Jihoon groans your name like a prayer, helping you speed up your hand as he lifts his hips, chasing the feeling of his high. 

This felt completely different from when Jihoon had come to your room. It was more than the fact that it was you touching him; it was that you knew him better. You trusted him more. You loved his man and you wanted to make him feel good. Watching his mouth part in a groan, you furrow your brows and hold back a soft moan of your own when Jihoon falls over the edge. 

Tightening his grip around yours, Jihoon whines, letting you overstimulate him for a few seconds before he moves both your hand and his from his cock, letting it rest against his thigh. It had been so long since he had experienced something like that with someone else, but the fact that it was you—Jihoon’s mind was racing and his cock wasn’t fully softening. He had heard your pretty moans as you stroked him through his climax and now he couldn’t help but let himself wonder how wet you might be. 

The silence is almost deafening for a few seconds until Jihoon meets your eyes as he presses his thumb gently into your palm, drawing a small circle, causing your thighs to clench. You knew that you wanted him, but you were scared to ask. Luckily, your eyes said enough and Jihoon didn’t want to keep you waiting. 

Water soaks through your dress as Jihoon’s body presses against yours with your back against his bed. You whine to the feeling of his lips moving along your neck as his fingers impatiently work to undo ties and buttons before you hear and feel the fabric tear at your shoulder. “Jihoon—” 

“‘M sorry… Fuck, I’m sorry. I’ll get you more. I’ll buy you a thousand dresses and all the things you want, but I have to get you out of this fucking dress right now.” 

You could hear the desperation in Jihoon’s voice as he rutted his hips against your leg over the skirt of your dress, his fingers tearing at ruined sleeves so that his lips had more access to your skin. Leaning up on your elbows, you whine Jihoon’s name, feeling his tongue lap at your skin even as his fingers tug your dress carefully down to your waist, leaving your chest exposed to him. 

“You sound so pretty, baby.” He had been afraid to let you speak before when he was in your bed. The beast was listening too closely and he was not only a fool but a coward. Now as he relished in the sounds of your whimpers and moans, Jihoon willed the beast back, determined to enjoy you and every single sound you made for him in his bed. “God, I love you so fucking much.” 

Jihoon hadn’t meant to confess to you like that. His head was swimming with adoration for you along with lust as he worshipped your body, leaving kisses along your chest. You were his everything, all that would ever matter. The moment the words leave his mouth, Jihoon hears you suck in a breath and your body trembles under him, drawing his eyes upward.  

Those had been the words that you had wanted to say to Jihoon earlier—that you loved him. You were scared to say them. You were afraid that he would never love you and that you’d never been good enough for him and yet he said them to you first. Closing your eyes tightly, you feel the tears rising in your eyes as you try to keep them back but it’s impossible as you shake with a soft sob overwhelmed by sensations and emotions. 

Moving up the bed, Jihoon shakes his head, cupping your cheek in his palm as he looks down at you concerned as tears run from the corner of your eyes. He worries at first that you are hurt or that he’s upset you, but then he sees your smile and it almost breaks him. “Baby—”

“I love you, Jihoon.” 

God, he loved those words on your lips. They scared the shit out of him, but they were like hearing a true angel speak. Jihoon never deemed himself worthy of love. He didn’t think that he was worthy of his parents’ love or that of his friends, but when it came to you, he thought he’d never in his entire life earn those words. Something about those three little words changed Jihoon, but for now he simply kissed your smile and then each of your cheeks wiping the tears from your face. “You’re my heart, Y/N. I swear I won’t make you regret those words.”

Sighing happily, you run your fingers through Jihoon’s damp hair as his lips begin to once again move along your jaw and down your neck. You felt in your heart that he wasn’t lying to you. For the first time, it truly felt like you had your husband in your arms and he was taking his time and making you his. 

Carefully working the rest of your dress from your body, Jihoon winces, seeing how badly he really ruined the dress before he drops it into the floor as you laugh under your breath at his reaction. “I’m serious, a thousand, ten thousand more dresses just like it.” 

You want to say something—a smart comeback about how he should get you dresses for the damage done to that one, but any care you have for that dress leaves your head as you watch Jihoon’s fingers run along your thigh, urging you to spread your legs. You find yourself suddenly nervous once again as Jihoon meets your eyes and takes a deep breath when he moves them between your legs, seeing just how wet you are. 

“I—I don’t think I properly apologized for how things happened last time. That isn’t how anyone should treat you, but especially not your husband.” Watching you furrow your brows and start to shake your head, Jihoon lifts his free hand to stop you as he massages your inner thigh with his other hand. “It’s not an excuse, and I will never use it as one—I simply want to explain so that we are cautious in the future. When I am close t–to shifting like I was that evening, I am—” 

You watch Jihoon struggle with his words, having to take in deep breaths. You wonder if he’s ever explained something like this to someone else before realizing he hasn’t, that he’s never let himself get so close to someone. Moving to sit up, you slide closer to Jihoon, letting him rest between your legs as you run your fingers over his face, feeling him lean into your touch. “I’m listening and I’m not going anywhere, Jihoon. I love you.” 

He didn’t deserve you. God, how did you exist? Smiling, Jihoon turns towards your palm, kissing it gently before muttering that he loves you too and letting out a breath before continuing. “The beast makes me angry—aggressive and stupid. It would be wise if we were more careful about things like this if I’m close to shifting. Does that make sense?” 

Meeting Jihoon’s eyes, you run your thumb over his cheekbone as you nod, almost trying to memorize the color of his dark brown eyes as you think back to the golden of the beast’s eyes. “Yes, but I trust you. I also don’t want you to ever lock yourself away again, Jihoon. We do this together, forever. Do you understand? Don’t ever keep this from me again.” 

The thought of that terrified Jihoon more than anything. He was so afraid that he might hurt you or worse. You were more important to him than anything else in his life and he had a feeling that the beast knew that. The beast enjoyed taking things from him—or at least that’s what it felt like. Swallowing hard, Jihoon reluctantly nods, agreeing before leaning to meet your lips in a tender kiss, feeling you smile against it. 

Humming softly into the kiss, Jihoon’s tongue sliding along yours, you let him ease you back on to the bed, feeling the pillow under your head. Legs tangle with one another as his hand slides along your side, along your hip, and down to your knee before Jihoon pulls it up to his hip so he can nudge his cock between your legs. 

“Ah…” Excitement and arousal wash over you. Leaning your head back, you open your eyes, meeting Jihoon’s, biting your lip, wondering when he is going to finally put himself into you, only for confusion to the place of your excitement as he eases back. “No… wait? Jihoon, I thought—” 

“We are, baby. You aren’t ready. You said I’m your first.” Speaking between kisses along your jaw and neck, Jihoon lowers his eyes between your legs as he takes a steading breath, preparing himself more than you before he brushes his fingers over your wet folds. “I’d rather die than hurt you again, mon ange. Keep your leg up for me and if anything hurts, tell me.” 

Holding tightly to his bicep, you whine Jihoon’s name when you feel his index finger slowly ease into you. The feeling is familiar but unlike last time, there is no pain. This time you find yourself clenching around Jihoon’s finger. “Mmm…” 

Smirking to himself, Jihoon nods to your reaction before carefully pushing his finger in deeper, feeling your hand tighten on his bicep as you moan. He pictures you in your bed making those noises and wonders if you’ve put your own small fingers inside yourself like this, knowing they’d never reach as deep as he can. “Good? How about this?” Curling his finger back towards his palm, Jihoon watches as you arch your back, your mouth falling open with a breath. “Beautiful.” 

You wanted more. This was what you had expected and what your cousins had told you that you might expect in the bedroom with a husband. You knew that some marriages weren’t blessed with sex lives to be envied; at this moment, you felt like yours was. There was no way that there could be anything better than this. There was no way there was anyone better than Jihoon. 

“I’m going to add another finger, darling.” 

Bracing yourself, brows furrowed, you nod only to moan Jihoon’s name, feeling yourself stretch around his index and middle fingers. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t touched yourself before. You had made yourself orgasm several times in your life, but never had you felt this good. Never had you felt yourself stretched around fingers like you were now and that only brought you back to what you knew would come next as you felt Jihoon’s cock brush against your thigh. It was much thicker than two of his fingers. How would you ever handle that? 

“You are doing so well. So pretty.” Using his thumb, Jihoon draws small circles on your clit, watching you lift your hips as you feel the pressure beginning to build in your stomach. He had watched women cum before; he had even seen you do it once before, but there was something special about this. He was seeing you with clear eyes and you were divine. “You can let go. Cum for me, baby.” 

Your nails dig into Jihoon’s skin and yet he doesn’t flinch or seem angry with you as deep red marks appear on his skin when you cum around his fingers. Gasping his name, you push your hips down over his fingers and ride out your orgasm, daring to meet his eyes before throwing your head back with a breathy moan. 

Kissing the corner of your lips, Jihoon eases his fingers from you, feeling you clenching around them as he does. Despite his cock twitching and leaking on to your leg, he doesn’t rush you this time; instead, Jihoon brushes his fingers over your head and whispers softly against your skin as you come down from your orgasm. “You’re perfect. Love you so much, Y/N... Take your time, baby. Shh… I’m not going anywhere. Have all the time in the world.”

Though you didn’t want to wait, you could feel your thighs shaking as you fought to catch your breath. Any fears you had that Jihoon would rush out the door, leaving you alone and wanting were distant, as you felt like you were drowning in him now. Every word and brush of his lips against your skin or lips had not only made you feel like you were able to take your time but also more confident. Finally, once you couldn’t stand the growing arousal in you taking back over, you whined Jihoon’s name, feeling his lips pull up into a smile against your cheek as his fingers brushed over your lower stomach. 

“Hm, what is it, baby? Why are you whining for me?” Jihoon knew that you were still his innocent flower, his perfect little angel of a wife and while every bone in his body was begging him to take you and ruin you for anyone else—he had to hear you ask for it. Holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger, Jihoon meets your pretty eyes as he feels your leg run along the outside of his thigh, your wet pussy pressing against his thigh, causing a groan to bubble up in his throat that he just barely manages to keep silent as he waits for you to speak. “What do you want from your husband?” 

The confidence that you had managed to build was waning, but you could see the look in Jihoon’s eyes and you somehow knew that he was going to make you follow through with his words. Glancing downward, you let your bottom lip jut out slightly, causing Jihoon to laugh under his breath as he watches you until you do finally speak. “I want—Jihoon, please? Take me.” 

You were being so sweet and soft. Your cute bottom lip sticking out at your pouted, but then you said those words and all amusement left Jihoon just like the breath in his lungs. He wanted to take you. While he never wanted to possess you like the beast did, there was a sense of pride that you were his wife and in his bed. He was lucky enough to have this claim to you and he’d be a fool not to act on it. 

Groaning under his breath, Jihoon nods before nipping at your jaw and hearing your breath get caught in your throat. The sounds leaving your mouth spur him on and have his hands once again trace the curves of your body, learning very dip and valley as he settles himself back between your legs. “Fuck—you’re… God, you’re so—” Shaking his head, unable to think straight, Jihoon practically whines, feeling your soft folds against his cock as he holds himself steady. “Please tell me you love me again.” 

Feeling the head of his cock bump against your clit, you gasp out Jihoon’s name before he grips your ass with his free hand, pulling your hips closer to him and lining himself up with you, waiting for you to do as he asked. It wasn’t a command or difficult task; it was asking you to do something as simple as breathing. “I love you, Jihoon, so much.” 

Neither of you were really prepared for how you would feel when Jihoon’s cock began to ease into you for the first time. You had never felt such an intense stretch like it in your entire life, and Jihoon was barely hanging on by a thread as he felt you clench down around him like a vice every single inch for what seemed like hours. He wasn’t going to rush you, but as he tried to allow you the time to adjust and get used to the feeling of him inside of you, Jihoon felt like he was going to explode. 

“Babe—baby… You are so tight. You have to try to relax for me, okay? Shh…” Brushing his thumb along your cheek, Jihoon meets your eyes, watching you nod along with his words as you make your best attempt to relax, allowing him to finally breathe when his hips settle against yours. “Fuck, there you go. Such a good girl. You okay? You let me know when you’re ready.” 

“Okay, oh my god.” You had been right when you wondered how you would fit all of Jihoon inside of you. Even as he lay between your legs and you felt yourself tightening around him, you were having a hard time comprehending it. 

The pain at first had been overwhelming, but now you were beginning to feel restless even as Jihoon’s fingers caress your skin and draw small invisible shapes along your chest and breasts to distract you. None of it is enough to stop you from wanting more and instinct kicks in, causing you to lift your hips, letting you watch a look of pleasure cross over Jihoon’s face as his eyes close and his lips part with a groan as you use your body like you had your hand earlier. “Please?” 

Anything you wanted. Jihoon would give you the moon and the stars. He would climb to the top of the palace and stand on the roof to pluck them out of the sky and bring them down one by one for you if you asked him to. Doing this—making love to his wife—Jihoon was more than happy to do. 

Lacing his fingers with yours, Jihoon presses your hand to the bed with the first swallow thrust of his hips, watching your mouth fall open with a choked moan. There was no way he was going to last long, but he’d rather die than cum without feeling you let go around his cock. He had denied himself for so long—he had denied you—that this was more than about just fucking you; it was about the pleasure he was determined to give you and to make you remember that he was the only one who’d ever make you feel this way. 

“Ji–Jihoon…” Tears fall over the rims of your eyes as Jihoon’s hips meet yours harder, his head buried in the crook of your neck. You had dreamt of pleasure like this but never thought it would be real until this moment—until Lee Jihoon. Digging your nails into his lower back, you press your head back into the pillow, gasping out a moan and arching your back, feeling the familiar pressure building with each of Jihoon’s deep thrusts. “Kiss me? Please kiss me, Jihoon.” 

The moon and the stars. Tightening his fingers on yours, Jihoon kisses your neck and groans your name before walking his kisses up to your lips, claiming them once again when you ask for something. He could feel himself barreling over the edge, his climax teetering on a precarious edge, but still determined to feel you first, Jihoon shifts his body closer to you, listening to you whine loudly against his lips as he pushes your leg up towards your stomach so he can bury his cock into you hard. “Come on, mon ange. Give it to me...” 

Jihoon sounds desperate and breathless against your lips; his thrusts are sharp and irregular as he gets exactly what he wants when you fall apart for him. Gasping for a deep breath, you find it impossible when your orgasm rips through you, causing your thighs to shake around Jihoon’s body. Resting his forehead against yours, Jihoon groans your name, feeling himself unable to hold back cumming hard into your warm pussy as you milk him dry. 

Both of you are silent beside your breaths for a few moments. Your bodies are tangled and unmoving as cum begins to seep from you and to the bed under you, making you feel sticky. It is Jihoon that moves and speaks first when he kisses your cheek and then your lips, unwilling to separate from you even as his cock softens inside of you, allowing more of his cum to escape. “My beautiful wife.”

Laughing under your breath, you turn your face from Jihoon’s kisses, feeling your cheeks burning at his attention even as he turns you back towards him, capturing your lips for a longer kiss and letting you sigh into it. You find yourself happy and sad all at once, your bottom lip once again sticking out slightly, making Jihoon lean back to look down at you before finally slipping himself from you and moving to your side, pulling you into his arms. 

“Why are you sad? What did I do?” 

Quickly shaking your head, you turn on your side, pulling one leg over Jihoon's, enjoying the feeling of his fingers on your skin. “Nothing, I’m not—it’s not sadness, Jihoon. It’s—I’m not sure what it is. Regret?” Seeing Jihoon furrowing his brows, you pat his chest and sit up slightly, trying to correct yourself. “No, no, wait. Not like that. Regret that we didn’t figure this out sooner. How much of our relationship we have already missed out on because of—something you can’t be a fault for.” 

Wrapping his fingers around yours, Jihoon brings them to his lips, kissing them and speaking against them slightly muffled even as he sighs into his words. “You’re the only person who has ever truly made me feel like perhaps the curse isn’t my fault. I’ve always felt I earned it—” 

“Jihoon—” 

“Let me finish, mon ange.” Kissing your fingertips again, Jihoon smiles against them. “I know I was born like this and that the curse was put on my parents. I logically know that. That has never mattered until I met you. Every other woman has—well, you know.” Sighing, Jihoon laughs almost in disbelief at his own words as he shakes his head, putting your hand on his chest over his heart. “You make me feel like perhaps I’m not even cursed at all. How could I be if I have you?” 

Jihoon’s words cause your chest to tighten and for tears to sit on the rims of your eyes as you feel his heart beat steadily in his chest. You can’t imagine a life without him—a cursed life or not. “You aren’t, my love. You are just Jihoon. You are just my husband.” 

For the first time in Jihoon’s life, he believes those words in his heart and the rumbling is silent as you kiss him, whispering that you love him against his lips. 

22

Four days of ignorant bliss. It had been a honeymoon phase. 

Jihoon had spent days and nights in your arms, but now he could feel the hair standing on the back of his neck even as you laid your head in his lap reading your book. He knows he should tell you that he is going to shift, but the shame overwhelms him. 

Promises had been made about this. He had told you that the two of you would deal with things together, but how could he do that when he looks at your now and sees the scars on your thigh? He can see the way his claws ripped through your perfect skin and left such angry marks? No—Jihoon has to keep you safe. 

Jihoon waits until you are asleep. His fingers tremble as he brushes your hair from your beautiful face before he lifts you and lays you back in bed and he listens to the angry rumble in the back of his head. The beast is angry with him. Why was it so angry? Why was the beast longing after you? That terrified Jihoon. He had to get away from you. 

Stumbling out of the room, Jihoon groans under his breath in pain, making his way towards the front of the palace to the doors when someone stands in his way at the doors. Lifting his golden eyes to Wonwoo, Jihoon sighs out a ragged breath and gestures to the door. “Open it and move, Wonwoo. I don’t want to hurt you or anyone else. I couldn’t live with myself. Please.” 

“No, sire.” 

Confused, Jihoon puts a hand to his stomach, feeling his muscles beginning to tear from the inside out. Letting out a pained groan, Jihoon takes a step forward, trying to get to the door himself, only to feel Wonwoo’s hand on his shoulder pushing him back with surprising strength. “Fucking move, Wonwoo! You know I don’t have—I don’t have time! Why are you doing this to me?!”  

“Why did you lie to her?” 

Falling towards Wonwoo, Jihoon coughs, tasting blood in his mouth from the muscles shifting internally. Though he is still confused, he pushes past the steward harder, managing to open the door and fall to the ground at the steps and Wonwoo’s feet as the man looks down at him. “Wha—what the fuck are you—” Lying? He hadn’t told you that he was going to shift. Had Wonwoo been spying on the two of you? Furious, Jihoon glares at Wonwoo before letting out a painful growl as his back arches, the bones snapping. 

“You lied to her, Jihoon. You had made so much progress—you were changing.” 

Scratching at the marble under his fingers, Jihoon spits the blood from his mouth and turns his head back up to Wonwoo. “What the fuck? Are you spying on us?” 

“You’re smarter than that, Jihoon. Think—” 

“Jihoon!” You had woken up to the sounds of pained yowling and only one thing had made sense. With tears in your eyes, you run towards the door,, seeing Jihoon lying across the steps in the middle of shifting, fear evident in his eyes as he looks around, shocked and confused. 

“No—Wonwoo, send her—” Looking for Wonwoo, Jihoon is stunned to not see him standing over him anymore; he only sees you as you rush forward, falling to your knees in front of him This was the worst thing that could happen. He was dangerous during his shift and the beast would kill you; he couldn’t trust himself and yet you were looking at him like you always did. You weren’t afraid of him; why weren’t you afraid? “Y/N, please go away! Baby, please!” 

Shaking your head, you sob Jihoon’s name, moving closer even as his body breaks and reforms in front of you. You knew that you should be afraid, but you couldn’t. You had promised to take care of him and you weren’t going to go back on it. “No! I love you. I won’t leave. I’m here, Jihoon. I trust you!” 

Jihoon cries out in pain, his fingers breaking one by one before claws begin to take their place. He meets your eyes, able to shake his head before everything goes to black and nothing is left but the beast. Blowing out a deep breath into a growl, Jihoon opens his eyes and scratches at the floor under him, feeling the marble cracking until he meets your eyes. You should be terrified. You should be screaming, but you aren’t. 

“I’m here. I’m—Jihoon, I’m not afraid of you and I’m not leaving. I love you.” 

The words seem foreign and impossible, but even as something fights him, telling him that you are lying to him, Jihoon keeps his eyes on you, listening to you tell him that you love him over and over again as you lift your hand, putting it against his face. He could so easily kill you. Tear you limb from limb, but he can’t and he won’t. Falling down in front of you, Jihoon lets out a loud breath, resting his large head in your lap, feeling your shaky hands run over the thick fur.  

At first, Jihoon falling into your lap scares you. You worry for a moment that he might get up and capture you in his large jaws, but after a few moments, you begin to wonder if he’s fallen asleep as you run your fingers over his head, listening to him breathe steadily. Tears drip from your cheeks and down on to the top of Jihoon’s head, soaking into the fur before you manage to lift your free hand, wiping them away, feeling relief wash over you. 

“You lulled man and beast, madame.” 

Furrowing your brows to hear a voice so close and having not heard any footsteps, you look up surprised to see Wonwoo standing against the doorframe with a slight smirk on his lips. You were used to seeing him in the same suit every day. He was a man of routine and he rarely surprised you, but tonight he looked completely different. He looked almost ethereal in his long black cape and his eyes full of mirth. 

“Wh—I? What? What are you doing out here?” 

Undoing his cape, Wonwoo grins at you as you feel the weight in your lap lessen, drawing your eyes down to Jihoon and causing your mouth to fall open in shock. Where the beast had been just moments before now lay your husband, his eyes fluttering as if he were simply dreaming, his body shivering from the cold. 

“I’ve grown weary, madame. Here, allow me.” Leaning to put the cape over Jihoon like a blanket, Wonwoo meets your eyes and you notice the subtle golden color to them before he stands back to his normal height to look up at the night sky. “You’ve done so much in your short time in Aetherial Grove.” 

Still confused, you watch Wonwoo closely while trying to keep Jihoon covered, feeling his fingers holding your dressing gown tightly at your thigh as he dreams. “What do you mean? Who—What—” 

Smiling to himself at your half-asked questions, Wonwoo glances towards you and nods. “Who and what indeed. A smart queen for an unselfish king. Quite the pairing.” You watch as Wonwoo lifts his hands and turns towards you and Jihoon, a playful look on his face. “When our dear king does wake, tell him that I am grateful for his generosity and that he allowed me to stay for as long as I wanted.” 

As if realizing something, you open your mouth, seeing Wonwoo’s eyes almost sparkle at your recognition. “You—” 

Bowing at his waist, Wonwoo meets your eyes and sighs. “Farewell, madame. Blessings on the king and his queen for many years to come.” Turning to walk away, you hear him laugh under his breath before he whispers just loud enough for you to hear. “Perhaps I’ll visit again one day.” 

Stunned and uncertain what to say or do, you watch Wonwoo as he moves towards the golden gates. You wait for him to push them open only to watch as he seems to vanish just before reaching them, just a shimmer of gold dissipating into the air where he once was. 

In your lap, Jihoon groans under his breath, shifting under the cloak, finally managing to open his eyes, looking up at you. The confusion is clear on his face, but as he blinks, looking around as if expecting something to happen, you can almost see something becoming clear to him. 

“How?” 

Lifting your hand to your lips and realizing that the curse is truly broken, you can’t stop the sob before it leaves you. Jihoon, still confused, looks at the cloak around him before moving closer to you, trying to keep you warmer as you try to speak between sobs, trying to explain what had happened even though you know it doesn’t make sense.  

Though Jihoon doesn’t completely understand, he pushes the tears from your cheeks and nods along, letting it sink in. Wonwoo had been in his life for as long as he could remember. His father had never explained where the steward had come from, and Jihoon had never asked. He remembered his father and Wonwoo having a difficult relationship as well as a close friendship, but now as you tried to explain who he really was, it all began to sink in. 

His father had been a selfish king and in his own way, so had Jihoon. He had thought by keeping everything to himself that he was protecting everyone around him—he had been protecting you, when in fact he had been hurting you more. It took letting someone in and letting them stay to break the curse. Just like letting Wonwoo stay until he was ready to go. 

In the end, it all led Jihoon to you and now he would never let you go. 

His wife. His queen. His heart. 

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[froggiewrites]

Ties That Bind (1)

Pairing: Zoro x Reader

SFW

Summary: You have spent your entire life preparing to meet your soulmate. Even with the words inked on your skin, you could never have imagined how badly your other half would hurt you, nor how much you'd want him anyway. Content: GN!Reader, Angst, Soulmate AU, Imprisonment, Medieval AU, Yearning, Unwanted Soulmates, Eventual Happy Ending Word Count: 3.2k

They were embedded on your ribcage, just above your heart. Your mother had always thought the placement was romantic, proof that your soulmate was going to be strong and steady, just like your heartbeat. 

Your father was more concerned with the content of the phrase, afraid for your future safety, what the context could be.

I’d kill you this instant if I could.

The words scrawled across your skin marked you as someone’s other half, part of a perfect, unbreakable pair. 

Your mother often insisted you were lucky. She reluctantly admitted your words weren’t ideal, but at least you had them. Some people were born bare, nothing to guide them in the world. Maybe they’d never meet their soulmate, or maybe they never had one at all. But you? You were promised something great.

You tried to share her optimism at first, but the older you became the more you questioned it. What happiness could you find with someone who would say something like that to you, let alone have it be the first thing they ever said to you? A soulmate mark didn’t guarantee you love, necessarily. It simply promised you an equal, another half. Maybe for you that was a combatant.

You never told anyone why you first picked up the sword. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that you were good at it, great even, and no man or woman that the universe sent to you would take you down without a good fight.

It only felt natural that you’d join the military when you came of age. That you’d have few friends, too focused on the battle ahead. On preparing yourself, no matter how painful of a process it was.

Your words were kept a secret. From the few friends you managed to keep, from your superiors, from those foolish enough to try to court you. Out of shame or fear you didn't quite know. You just knew that you couldn't stand the idea of seeing that familiar look, the one on your father’s face when you mentioned them, like your life was over before it began. Maybe it was.

You were a machine of war. You didn't need fate, you would insist. But you dreamed anyway. Of kind hands, loving smiles, gentle lips meeting yours. You chased them away in the morning, but they always found their way back.

You hated the smell of blood. The sound of metal upon metal, the sound of crushing bones. But you were terribly good at bringing these things about. So you kept moving up in the world, kept gaining accolades you didn’t care for. Maybe someone else would appreciate them more. Maybe someone who wanted them didn’t deserve them. But things that could be don’t matter as much as things that are.

General, they called you. You often wonder if most of them even know your name.

You don’t know if the steps you took lead you here or if this fate is what determined those steps. Maybe it doesn’t matter, considering the destination is the same. But you’d like to imagine there was some choice to it.

The enemy Commander is fury incarnate, slashing through your men like they’re paper. Despite the carnage, you can’t help but admire his strength and grace. There’s something almost hypnotizing about the way he moves, like a dancer.

He’s unarmored. A foolish move, but one you can’t help but admire. Facing death like that is no easy task. He’s a brave man, or a stupid one. Sometimes you think there’s no difference between the two. They live and die just the same.

He easily grows closer, twisting and twirling through the crowd, leaving devastation behind him. You wonder if he knows those men have families they’re leaving behind. You wonder if he cares.

You see no trace of guilt, no hesitation in his swings. For a moment you think you may hear a laugh carried by the wind, one filled with a mania that frightens you. But that cannot be true. No man can take joy in such carnage.

You’re forced to turn your attention away, to clash swords with another man who snuck between your defenses. You may not be stronger than him, but you’re certainly more skilled. You down him quickly, spilling red onto the soil and depriving yet another mother of her son. You stop for only a moment, just one. Just to catch your breath, to remind yourself that you too have a mother waiting for you, a family who would mourn you. It was him or you, you tell yourself, as you always do.

Before you realize it, there is a sword between your ribs.

He is in front of you, menacing and glowing against the vivid orange sky behind him. The sun is setting, obscuring most of him. A shame. You’d love to get a close look at the man who killed you.

You wait for him to retract his blade, to feel the blood start to pour out in earnest. You expect to christen this field with your blood, die with dignity like you were meant to. A warrior’s death is a fine one.

But he doesn’t move.

Instead he leans forward, allowing you to see the sharp cut of his jaw and the cruel twist of his smile.

“I’d kill you this instant if I could.”

Your heart skips a beat at his voice, rough with fury, a deep timbre that rattles you down to your bones.

You look up to see the eyes of your soulmate, a deep and vibrant green, as they glare at you with hatred.

He's beautiful, even more than you imagined.

He wants you dead.

“But you’re needed elsewhere, General. Take care not to bleed out before we get there.”

He doesn’t remove his blade, even as he easily pins your arms behind your back and ties them, even as he carries you as though you were little more than cargo. Trying to stem the flow of blood, you suppose.

You don’t recall most of the ride back. There are horses involved, a carriage or two. Hands poke and prod you, but you can hardly feel them. People speak, but not to you.

You don’t know how long you sleep. You wake up aching, your side burning, your head resting against a cold stone floor. There’s a blanket over you, if you could even call the pathetic scrap of fabric that, and a thin straw mattress under you. You’re behind bars, a zoo animal on display. There’s a tray of moldy bread lying near you. You feel as though there’s acid tearing through your stomach, but you don’t dare to eat.

You try to sit up, but the searing pain quickly tells you that’s a bad idea. You’re trapped here, waiting for whoever or whatever is coming, if anybody is coming at all. Perhaps the Commander simply decided you deserve to rot down here, wanted to deprive you of the warrior's death you deserve.

It feels like hours before you hear the creak of a door somewhere in the distance. You pray that it’s the reaper, come to release you, but you’re not that lucky. Those footsteps march to the beat of war; a soldier is coming for you.

“Good morning, General.” You can’t see him, but you recognize his voice instantly. You can hear his smug grin, the teeth he most definitely has on display. 

You open your mouth to answer, but then it strikes you. You haven’t said a word to him.

He doesn’t know.

He’s captured his other half, his destiny, and locked them in a cage, and he’s none the wiser. If he did, would he free you? You doubt it. Disloyal soldiers with weak hearts, those that can be swayed, rarely reach the rank of Commander. Commanders will give their lives to the cause. Why wouldn’t he give yours?

You could tell him anyway. Torture him with it, let him know everything he’s giving up, everything he’s cursed you both to. A lifetime alone for him, one cut woefully short for you. 

Or you could…spare him. A small act of mercy. You could carry the burden alone. Would he even have words, if you never spoke to him at all? Maybe he’d simply think he didn’t have a soulmate, live the rest of his life not knowing what he’s lost. Maybe that’s for the best. He can be normal. Happy. And while it’s hard to wish for happiness for a man who wants you dead, it’s quite easy to wish it for the man you’ve been waiting for.

You close your lips, closing your eyes and focusing on nothing but the sound of your own breathing. You can be merciful. You can be kind. Someone has to be.

“What, you’re ignoring me? How disappointing, General. I heard great things about you, I didn’t think you’d do something so childish.” There’s irritation in his tone, but something deeper as well. He’s disquieted by your silence, and he doesn’t know why. Maybe even though the man doesn’t know you, his soul does. It reaches out to yours, begging you to speak, begging you to finish the connection the universe has prepared it for. Your own soul does the same, your heart pounding as words threaten to spill from your lips. Nothing with meaning, just mindless babble, anything to let him know. But you wouldn’t be a soldier if your willpower was so weak. You do not speak.

“You know, General, I really respected you. I saw the way you fought. You cut people down without hesitation.” You wince at that. “But you aren’t cruel about it. That’s important in a warrior. The joy of a fight shouldn’t come from the inevitable death.”

There is no joy in fighting for you. It’s easy not to revel in cruelty when you can hardly stand to hold a blade in your hands after you pull it out of some poor bastard’s chest. You can’t imagine finding anything worthwhile in the heat of battle. You’re only here because of him, a curse put in place by some higher power that’s enjoyed watching you struggle, enjoyed watching you retch and sob after your first kill, the way the light left your eyes the same time it left the body.

You squeeze your eyes shut tighter. Those memories are of no use to you now. You need to find out how to either get out of here or speed up your execution so your suffering isn’t prolonged.

“It’s a shame to watch a worthy opponent die in such a shameful way.” It hurts worse, the way he sounds like he means it. There’s genuine pity in his voice, a sort of kindness his hardened exterior can’t hide. “But orders are orders, I suppose.”

You want to disagree, but the orders that put you in this cell aren’t that different from the ones that put you on the battlefield, and you hate to be a hypocrite. You shift, trying to put less pressure on your broken ribs, but you simply make the pain worse. You can barely bite back a whimper. You hear a sigh behind you, a small sign of defeat.

“Don’t kill yourself before one of us can, General. And try to roll onto your left. You have less bruises on that side.” Those marching steps lead away from your cell, down the hallway and back out into the sunlight you’ll never see again. With great effort, you roll onto your other side to find it is more comfortable that way, or at least less agonizing. You may be able to sleep this way, if you’re lucky.

The Commander doesn’t return before you fall asleep, but a meek little footsoldier brings you sustenance at some point. You hesitate to call the strange foul-smelling broth food, but it’s something. You can’t sit up to eat it yourself, so the poor lad props you up slightly, wincing when you groan.

“Sorry,” he murmurs nervously. “You need to eat.”

“No need to apologize. You’re not the one who stabbed me.” You huff out a laugh, which only makes it hurt worse. He stares at you with widened, fearful eyes, and you’re not sure if he’s scared you’ll hurt him or that you’ll drop dead on the spot. When he brings the mug to your lips with shaking hands, he does so a little too quickly, and you can feel the unpleasant sting of a burned tongue. You don’t bother to pull back or to stop drinking. What’s one more injury?

He only pulls the cup away when it’s entirely empty, before quickly standing and beginning to scurry out. He pauses for a moment once he’s past the bars, safe from the injured beast trapped behind them. “Someone will be back to change your bandages soon.”

“No, they won’t.” They don’t actually intend to keep you alive in here, you know. Sure, you making it to your scheduled execution would be a nice morale boost, but they’re not going to waste resources on treating a prisoner of war.

He doesn’t respond, and you can hear him skittering out of here, away from the stench of your blood and the rotting cot beneath you. It’s too soon to say the place reeks of death, but the stale air is a reminder that it will come soon.

You’re asleep when the next person enters, and you haven’t even had the chance to open your eyes before there are hands on you. You whimper, from the pain and the fear, the exhaustion weighing you down, but a familiar voice gently shushes you. “It’ll be quick, I promise.” The Commander’s hands are callused and rough, but they’re soft against your skin, and pleasantly warm. You manage to crack open your eyes to see his handsome face above you, his good eye narrowed in concentration as he takes in your state. “It’s going to hurt, but you’ll feel better after.”

You can see bandages on the ground next to him, as well as a set of clothes. They seem a bit too big, but it’s certainly better than the bloodied rags they left you with after they stripped you of your armor. He moves with the confidence of someone who has done this hundreds of times before. Was the Commander once a wartime medic, patching up his fellow soldiers? Or was he simply adept at patching up his own wounds?

“This is going to be the worst part,” he murmurs. You feel something cool against your torn skin, a pleasant chill running through you before the burning starts.

You scream.

It’s embarrassing, really, a soldier being reduced to screaming and sobbing simply from a bit of antiseptic. But whatever this is stings much worse than the salves back home, and your wound is much worse than any you’ve suffered before. You feel the burn down to your bones, piercing your marrow and turning it to ash. You’re losing something vital, part of your foundation, threatening to collapse you entirely.

It isn’t until his hand brushes your cheek that you realize you’re sobbing.

“I know,” he whispers. Part of you is furious at the pity in his voice. Another craves it, craves any sort of gentleness or comfort, any distraction from the pain. “It’s awful, it really is. It’ll be over soon, and then we won’t have to worry as much about infection.”

You’re not worried about infection. You’re not worried about making it out of here at all right now. You’d gladly welcome the executioner’s axe, embrace the hangman as though he was your oldest friend. Anything to make it stop. Anything at all.

It feels like hours before the burning subsides, but logically you understand it couldn’t have lasted more than a minute. In that time, you seem to have grabbed his hand, and strangely, he allowed you to. It is only once your whimpers quiet that he removes his fingers from yours and gets to work redressing you. The scratch of the gauze against your exposed muscle and viscera feels like a gentle kiss compared to your earlier suffering. He has to lift you to fully wrap you, his rough hands pressing against your very broken ribs as he unhurriedly pulls your bandages tighter. While he does not rush, he does not linger to revel in your pain.

He pulls the oversized shirt onto you, and the scent of soap envelops you. A welcome distraction from the stale air. It’s a little stiff, the texture a little rough, but you certainly won’t complain. For the first time since you arrived you feel protected, as though they hadn’t stripped you of your armor. A loose pair of pants follows, but the best gift the Commander has given you today is a warm pair of woolen socks. You can finally feel the chill from the stone beneath you begin to fade, a soft warmth beginning to fill you. You don’t know if it’s from the fabric surrounding you or from the gesture, but either way you cannot help the smile that makes its way onto your face, the picture of contentment.

“Feeling better?” His voice is kinder than you expect.

You just barely stop yourself from expressing your gratitude, the pain and subsequent relief blurring your mind and softening your heart. The clarity only comes when you see a small light in his eyes as your mouth opens, an innocent excitement at the idea of hearing your voice. Even though he doesn’t know why he so desperately wants to hear it. You press your lips together, instead giving him a tight small and a nod.

He sighs, his gentle bedside manner dissolving nearly instantly. An enemy remains. “Still not speaking?”

You shake your head softly, giving a small shrug and hissing through your teeth at the sting that follows the movement.

He lets out an offended huff. “You spoke to one of my men.”

You nod.

“But not me?”

Another shake and an apologetic smile.

“I see.” His lips press into a tight line, disapproval radiating off of him. He clearly thinks this is some kind of snub, an act of rebellion. You were never prone to such things, but how could he guess that? You’re a stranger, no matter how tightly you’re linked by fate.

He doesn’t speak again, silently ensuring your bandages aren’t too tight and ensuring the clothes fit as well as they can. You can see him quietly simmering with rage, upset by your apparent rejection, but you can’t feel it in any of his actions. He’s putting it aside for you, even as an ungrateful stranger. There’s a small ache in your chest, a small shred of longing you try to bite down. You had always hoped your soulmate would be kind.

He leaves without a word, only a small grunt that you think is his form of goodbye. 

There’s nothing left to do but wait. For tomorrow, for his next visit, for your inevitable end. And so you allow yourself to fall back into a fitful sleep, dreaming of a different life; gentle touches, warm smiles, and the way the sunlight would dance in green hair.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay

[sevarchive]

♡ grwm while my clueless bf voices over! ──

જ⁀➴ windbreaker! with them doing the voiceover for your makeup routine

starring: tasuku tsubakino, haruka sakura, hayato suo, hajime umemiya, and ren kaji

TASUKU TSUBAKINO

“okay, okay, so she sent me this video and told me to do a voiceover like one of those tiktok boys. babe, you really want me to narrate? fine!”

there’s a soft chuckle as the video plays. “she’s starting with her ‘flawless base'! her words, not mine. atashi thinks she already looks like a masterpiece in motion. but go off, queen.”

he leans into the mic. “oh my look at this precision! look at this discipline. i trained her well.”

you blend your eyeshadow and he gasps—actually gasps. “OH?? WHO IS SHE?? i don’t even remember breathing the first time i watched that part.”

he goes quiet for a second as you add highlight. “she always lights up her own face. no filters by the way!”

then, he added: “when i was younger, i hid everything i loved about myself. makeup. color. softness. but she? she’s free. and i’ll protect that freedom with everything i’ve got.”

he added more. “she asked me if it was too much.” he laughs. “too much? babe. you are the standard. and if anyone else has a problem with that, tell them to find me.”

a pause. “i’ll be wearing heels!”

HARUKA SAKURA

“alright. so. she sent me this. said ‘do a voiceover like the stupid tiktok boys.’” he coughs. hard.

“first of all, i’m not doing a soft voice. second of all, what the hell is that—paint? lotion?? that better not be edible.”

you blend your foundation. he squints.

“how is your skin doing that. are you okay? is this witchcraft?”

you smile at the camera.

“D-DON’T DO THAT. STOP LOOKING AT ME. WHO ARE YOU FLIRTING WITH RIGHT NOW?? ME?? IS THIS FOR ME??”

he slams something in the background. chair? soul? dignity? who knows.

“okay now she’s… stabbing her eyelid?? no wait—it’s that pointy pen thing. the one that makes her look like she could kill me with one wink.”

you apply blush.

“now she’s pretending to be all innocent with the pink cheeks. nah. don’t fall for it. this is an assassin. a siren. she’s gonna rob me emotionally.”

he goes silent for a beat. then mutters, super fast:

“she’sreallyprettybutwhatever.”

pause.

“WAIT NO. CUT THAT OUT. DON’T POST THIS. I’M DELETING YOUR WIFI. I SWEAR TO GOD—"

one last beat.

“…unless you want me to do another one. like… for skincare. or something.”

HAYATO SUO

“hmm. the video begins. look at her. pretending to be harmless again. amusing.”

his tone is silk and sarcasm, like he's sipping tea between lines.

“applying her ‘base’ now. as if her skin isn’t already flawless. cute little act. i won’t fall for it. again.”

he lets out a hum when you dab on concealer.

“concealer next… probably covering the eye bags from staying up all night texting me. mm. adorable, really.”

you wink at the camera—he chuckles a bit.

“ah. the seduction phase begins.”

he leans in just slightly.

“my favorite part. highlighter. because she insists on glowing like a deity even when no one’s watching. including me. who is absolutely not watching this on loop. absurd.”

you bite your lip by accident. he pauses.

“…hm. intentional? or an attack?”

you do your final pose.

“anyway. if you feel yourself falling in love, i recommend closing the app. this is a trap. a glittery, emotionally confusing trap. i’ve been in it for weeks. i haven’t known peace.”

then he added: “…and i’d fall again.”

HAJIME UMEMIYA

“okay—okay—listen. i’ve seen this face up close a million times, and somehow she still manages to knock the air outta my lungs like it’s the first time. the blush hasn’t even gone on yet and i’m already head over heels again.”

he chuckles softly

“foundation’s goin’ on like a dream. smooth, even, radiant—like sunshine kissed her good morning. she’s not beatin’ her face, she’s blessing it.”

next was blush application.

“and the blush?? oh my gosh, it’s giving angel woke up happy. i’m gonna start handing out flyers that say ‘have you seen this beauty?”

later on he gets overwhelmed.

“hold on, rewind. look at that look she gives the mirror—yeah, that one. that’s mine. mine. and i’m never getting over it.”

“look, i’m not just hyping her up, okay? this is the truth. this is what the furin spirit’s about! being your bold, brilliant, beautiful self and rocking it.”

he grins.

“she’s the muse, the masterpiece, the love of my life. and if anyone out there sees this and thinks she’s too pretty to be real… yeah, me too. every day. still can’t believe she chose me.”

he added something before the video ends,

“you’re killin’ it, babe. always do. now finish that wing so we can go cause a public disruption with how good you look!”

REN KAJI

ren clicks play, resting his chin in his palm, earbuds in.

"she sent me this video like, ‘just say stuff over it.’ like that’s not dangerous. i’ve already watched it five times. don’t ask questions."

the video starts with you applying primer, your fingers moving carefully across your cheeks. you're wearing his hoodie again. ren doesn’t comment. but he notices.

"okay, she’s starting with that base thing. primer? whatever. she looks real serious. like she’s prepping for war. it’s... kinda cute."

your start patting in concealer, and he exhales, smiling a little.

"concealer now. probably hiding the eye bags from texting me dumb memes at 2am. i told her to sleep. she didn’t. i didn’t either. no regrets."

"now eyeshadow. she’s using that color again. the one that made that one dude stare last week. yeah. i saw it. i remember. i was two seconds from standing up and blocking his view."

you paused in the video to blend something carefully, frowning in concentration.

"okay, stop. don’t look that cute while frowning. that’s illegal. also look at her blending. stupid good at it. like, stop being so precise. you’re making the rest of us look bad."

you laughed in the background of the video, like you were talking to someone off-camera. he rewinds it just to hear it again.

"anyway… lips now. that tint. i remember it. she wore it when she kissed my cheek the first time. said it was to 'mark her territory.'"

he chuckles under his breath, barely audible.

"…she's gonna post this, huh. people are gonna see it and fall for her."

a pause.

"but it’s fine. they can look. i’m the one she sends videos to. and the one she texts at 2am. i’m already hers."

જ⁀➴ © sevarchive ✦ masterlist ; like/reblogs are appreciated ꣑ৎ

[theprettynosferatu]

CW: FOR ALL THAT'S GOOD AND HOLY READ THIS, THIS STORY IS STRONG

Kidnapping, incest G/G, noncon, mind-altering drugs, full mind breaking, orientation conversion (straight to lesbian), hucow, hupig

This story can be read and enjoyed by itself. It follows the events of Origins of Submission II.

Prologue

Victoria did her best to keep her hands steady. She checked the proportions of the component once, twice, three times. Every compound needed to be perfect, fulfil its purpose without fail. Much like herself. 

It gave her a wicked satisfaction to use her knowledge, her education, her intelligence to please Mistress Lucía and Mommy. Victoria existed to be useful, after all– and while different, using her brain to serve her superiors was, like every act of service, a reminder of her nature as a doll, a mere extension of her owner’s will. So if being a good, obedient daughter meant to use her smarts, dulled as they were, to help make another stupid slave… the thought made her pussy twitch.

She fought the urge to grope her udders. She needed to focus. Everything had to work. 

I

Florencia tossed and turned in bed. Fuck. How was she supposed to sleep after what she had seen? 

She tried to find an innocent explanation, she truly did. But there was no way to interpret what she had walked into as anything remotely close to innocent. Still, the magnitude of it, the sheer perversion of it was hard to grasp. Her aunt having some sort of weird, violent sexual encounter with her own daughter. What. The. Fuck? How was anyone supposed to process that? Two days had passed and Florencia had only managed to… sleepwalk through life. They pretended to be normal, as if nothing had happened. They smiled and were nice and polite, just her dear cousin and aunt. And Florencia could almost go along with it. Almost, but not quite. There was no way to repress what she had witnessed. These women were sick. Perverted. 

But what could she do? Call the cops? They were both adults. And who would believe her? Florencia tried to go over her plans. She needed to find somewhere else to stay… hopefully somewhere with a very, very low rent. And she needed to…

Exhaustion started to claim her. Florencia found herself drifting in and out of sleep. In and out of dreams. She was too worried to sleep properly in that room, yet too tired to stay fully alert. It became hard to separate what was a nightmare, what was what she had seen, what was truly happening in the moment.

Her door swung open. Familiar shapes rushed in. A dream? 

“Ver-” she started to say, before a slap shut her up. She opened her mouth to scream. A pair of panties killed that scream before it could be born. Hands held her down. A dark-skinned woman walked in, smiling. And then, the sharp prick of a needle. She turned her head to look at her cousin. Why was she dressed only with a miniscule bra that barely covered her nipples? It wasn’t important, Florencia knew. What was in the syringe her cousin held? Her mind drifted, getting fuzzy. Her body was relaxing. Why? It shouldn’t! She should be fighting back! She couldn’t. She knew she couldn’t. Her limp body refused to obey her. The world seemed distorted, almost as if she were underwater…

Her aunt’s voice, cold… yet with an undercurrent of dark excitement.

“This is what needs to happen, Florencia. So you can be part of the family… properly.”

In that nice, quiet neighborhood, an ambulance waited. Three women placed a fourth, her body still as if she was in the deepest of sleeps, in the back of the vehicle. They set the IVs in place, monitored her. The ambulance sped away.

The neighbors assumed something had happened, of course; but they quickly moved on with their nights, as one usually does.

They had no way to know what had really taken place right under their noses.

II 

The lights were blinding, disorienting. Were they malfunctioning? They flickered in a strange, somewhat enrapturing rhythm. Left, right, left, right… and the colors looked so pretty…

What was she thinking? Florencia felt panic starting to rise inside her chest- and yet it was somehow muted, nowhere near as intense as it should be. It was akin to a small flame, barely visible behind a bed of soft, calming clouds. Her body felt light, utterly relaxed, pleasantly warm. She felt she could just… chill for a bit. Let time go by her. Maybe even sleep, although she didn’t feel exactly tired- it just felt like the proper thing to do. 

Florencia tried to move her body, just a little bit. A few facts became clear, and she accepted them knowing fully that they should be terrifying. Fact one: her hands and legs were bound. Fact two: she had been placed on some sort of pommel horse, like the ones she had seen used in gymnastics during the Olympics, but somehow different, leaving her bent over. Fact three: she was naked. Putting everything together, she concluded with a strange calm that she had been taken, kidnapped; that the purpose of her abduction was sexual in nature; that she had no viable means of escape. She wondered if the lack of an emotional response was, in itself, a defense mechanism. Perhaps. Still, it felt strange to be so… detached from her own experience. She tried to remember.

Her cousin. Her aunt. And one other woman. The images flooded in. The secret she had discovered. Slowly, that small flicker of fear began to grow, pushing through the fog in her brain.

“Ah. Awake, I see. Finally! I have to admit, I was a tad worried. I thought maybe your aunt’s loyal cow had messed up the dosage, but, credit where it’s due, that dumb fuckdoll managed to pull through. So, how does it feel? I’m told what’s coursing through your veins is quite a cocktail! Muscle relaxants, some psychotropics, one that increases blood flow to… certain areas… must be an interesting experience. Not one I care to feel for myself, mind you.”

Florencia tried to pinpoint where the voice came from, but it felt as if it was echoing inside her own head. She sluggishly tried to squirm, to get a better sense of space, of reality. Suddenly, she felt the sharp pain of a hand pulling her hair, forcing her to look forward.

There she was. The unknown woman. Clad in leather boots with devilishly sharp stilettos and a perfect fitting black corset, her appearance was the very picture of confidence, of someone who knew she would get what she wanted sooner or later- and who would do anything to take possession of what was rightfully hers. Florencia noted that she was also beautiful, in the same manner that she had taken note of everything else- as fact, cold and pure. 

“Look at me. I’m Mistress Lucía. And you are mine.”

Florencia felt herself rebelling. No. She wasn’t hers. She didn’t belong to anyone but herself. 

“Now, I apologize for the somewhat improvised nature of this little setup.” said Lucía. “You see, yours is a rather urgent case that came to me with very short notice. Still, I feel we have all we can need here. And before you do anything stupid, we’re in a rented warehouse in the middle of nowhere, so screaming for help won’t work. Don’t get me wrong, though. You will do quite a bit of screaming. That I promise you.” Almost as an afterthought, Lucía slapped Florencia’s face as hard as she could before letting go of her hair. Florencia’s head felt heavy, and she couldn’t stop it from slamming against the horse.

“Useless fucking bitch. I guess we’ll have to wait until you are a bit more… sensitive. The cow tells me she has prepared compounds for all stages of the process. This one should wear off soon. Time, I’m afraid, is a factor in this. Normally I prefer to guide my slaves in a more gradual manner, but you? You get the crash course.”

Florencia felt herself starting to fade. Still, she managed to mumble.

“...Crash course?... Cow…?”

“Oh, don’t tell me you haven’t figured it out already! You truly are one dumb girl. Fine, I’ll show you. Cow! Come here.”

“How may I serve, Mistress Lucía?”

No. It was impossible. That voice…

A hand turned Florencia’s head.

She wished she could close her eyes, but the image in front of her was too compelling, too strange, too perverse. There was Victoria, wearing nothing but a cow-stripe micro bikini, a cowbell hanging from the chain around her neck… and a huge strap-on dildo affixed to her hips. The Cow. 

“Hi, cousin”, smiled Victoria.

Lucía gave her a backhanded slap. Victoria’s eyes suddenly became emptier, dumber, as if a switch had been flipped inside her head.

“Moooo”, said Victoria.

“Good cow”, answered Lucía.

And with those two words bouncing in her head, darkness took Florencia once more.

III 

For a second, right after she opened her eyes again, Florencia let herself believe everything had been just a terrible dream. That delusion was dispelled in an instant. How long had she been out? Long enough for her cousin -how awful to think of her in those terms- and “Mistress Lucía”, whoever that was, to make additions to the setup that was, in that moment, her entire world.

Florencia tried to move her head, only to find it was fixed in place by some sort of… vise. Her hands were bound, her arms spread. She felt so vulnerable, so exposed… the urge to protect her chest tortured her. There was nothing she could do. Her ankles were chained to a large metal frame, leaving her almost hanging. And there was something else, something different with her body. The air felt dense, and it caressed her legs, her crotch, in a strange way. She tried to look down, but the restraint on her head forced her to keep her eyes facing forward. Facing the black screens. 

“Ah, poor thing. This must be new for you. You probably think we did something awful to you while you were unconscious! Well, you’re wrong, dumb piggy. We did something you should have done a long time ago!”

Lucía’s voice. It sent a shiver down Florencia’s spine. 

“Cow, let’s see if your dear cousin can figure it out on her own.”

“Moooo!” was the excited reply.

Florencia felt soft hands caressing her legs. She tried to push the feeling out of her mind, to ignore the warmth, the way her skin seemed to enjoy the smooth, gentle touch- to not think about the fact that her own cousin’s fingers were playfully making their way up towards her…

“Oh, perhaps the Cow’s new cocktail has made you a bit too… sensitive to notice what I mean. She has rather well trained fingers, after all. Fine, I’ll tell you. We shaved you, you stupid sow! How on Earth you walked around with that much hair on your legs and over your cunt is beyond me. Didn’t you feel absolutely disgusting? I suppose not. You are a pig, after all. But don’t worry, piggy. We’ll make you filthy in other ways. Which reminds me…”

Florencia barely registered the “click” of a remote control. The Cow -no, she reminded herself, Victoria- had reached between her legs and every fiber of Florencia’s being was fighting to deny the pleasure those skilled fingers bombarded her with. Suddenly, the screens came to life. 

Florencia’s vision was flooding with images, her ears bombarded with the sounds of moaning, of whips hitting skin, of vibrating tortures. Every screen showed only women being used, abused, dominated by other women. No matter how much she tried, every inch of her limited field of view was overtaken by women worshipping their mistresses, strange pink flashes (were those words she almost saw?) breasts being slapped, bound beauties and kneeling slaves…

She began to feel dizzy. Lucía had mentioned a new cocktail… what the fuck had they injected into her body? Images bled into one another as she sunk deeper into something like a dream state. And the sensation, the damn warmth coming from her pussy, grew with every second. She could not let it win. “It’s your cousin”, she reminded herself over and over. And yet she could feel her body betraying her, her pussy getting soaked…

“See, little pig? This is the way things work. Inferior women like you kneel. Serve. Obey. Your body is starting to learn it, even if you try to deny it. Oh, I know what you’re thinking. ‘I don’t even like women!’ Don’t you worry about that. I’ll make sure you understand the truth in a very, very deep way. Speaking of…”

Another click. Suddenly, the screens showed men and women, the kind of hardcore porn she Florencia herself sometimes indulged in to relax… but the warm feeling was gone. Victoria had removed her hands.

“Cow… pain.”, commanded Lucía.

“Mooo!”, came the reply.

Florencia screamed. The strap-on. It had gone inside her ass with malice, with force, without any sort of warning. Whatever made her body so sensitive, apparently also worked on her pain receptors. All she could feel was fire inside her, burning her, hurting her in a way she had never experienced.

Click. Women on screen. 

“Cow… pleasure.”

Soft fingers. Relief. The pain starting to fade away. Her pussy growing more and more desperate for release. She found herself moaning as the women on the screens moaned. And was that Victoria being stepped on by a leather boot with sharp heels in one of the scenes? Surely it couldn’t be…

Click. Men on screen.

“Cow… pain.”

Florencia screamed.

It was brutal. Florencia knew what the intent was, of course. Serving women meant pleasure. Men meant pain. Part of her wanted to believe that such blunt methods would not work on her, that there was a part of her, a higher part, that would be above being programmed like a simple machine. Reward and punishment worked on dogs. She wouldn’t fall to that level. She was wrong. No matter how much she begged, how she pleaded, the only response she got from her cousin was a simple, mindless “mooo”.

It was with horror that she found herself focusing on the pleasure to come to endure the pain. The notion that such pleasure was being delivered by her cousin started to become secondary. It was her lifeline when the pain felt too much to bear, and once she opened that door in her mind, her fate was sealed. Lucía could see it in her face, in the way she was starting to buck her hips, to drool in a mixture of ecstasy and exhaustion.

“You thought you were better than us, piggy? Look at you! About to cum to the tender attention of your own cousin. Your own cousin! You might think you can resist… but your body knows. Your body learns deep in its bones what I’m teaching it. It isn’t your body anymore, you dumb sow. It is mine. So do it! Cum yourself away! Cum for your own family, you incestuous slut! Fall into the filth that will be your home. Better than us? No, you stupid toy. You will fall in the mud, piggy. And you’ll learn to love it more than you love yourself. Go ahead. Cum. Cum for the dirty fucking pig you’ll become!”

She did. With all the shame, with the fear, with the suffering pounding inside her chest, Florencia’s body betrayed her. As she screamed with the best orgasm she had ever felt, her cousin joined in with a delighted, ecstatic moo.

IV

“What are you?”

Florencia gasped for air. She had no way to know how long Mistress… no, just Lucía and the Cow had been working on her. Days, certainly. Weeks? Perhaps. But she would not break. Not on this.

She remembered the other times she had thought the same thing. The way she recoiled when shown a picture of a penis. How wet she got whenever she saw another woman degraded, used, hurt. She had promised herself she would not become the pig they wanted her to be, and yet, step by step…

But not this time. This was the line she had to hold.

“I’m… a person.”

“Wrong. Cow?”

The Cow leaned forward. Bound, restrained, Florencia was once again suffocated by her cousin’s large, soft breasts. She would feel it again: the sensation of drowning, her body screaming for air. But perhaps worse, the first sensation she felt as the Cow’s soft udders covered her face was her pussy twitching. Muted by the fear, the warmth of flesh, the vibe affixed to her clit buzzed mercilessly.

She gasped for air as soon as her face was freed from that cruel, beautiful breast. She steeled herself to hear the question again, for the thousandth time, to reply what she had replied every single time, even if it felt less and less true. Instead, she had to fight deliriously against the delicious sensation coursing through her body. She couldn’t give them the satisfaction. Not again. She would resist. She would…

She failed.

She screamed her failure in a melody of moans and whimpers as her body convulsed with another orgasm. Shame and pleasure mixed into an intoxicating concoction.

“Again? You came again, you filthy little pig? And you call yourself a person? People can control themselves! You? You are an animal in heat, piggy. Why do you keep lying? Why do you keep lying to yourself? Doesn’t it feel so, so good to cum? Don’t the Cow’s udders feel so nice on your skin? And she’s your flesh and blood! You know who will own you: your aunt. Or rather, your new Mommy. Family. If you break, you’ll become her pet… And still, you cum. You cum like the sow you are. And you love it. Your pussy loves it. Why do you keep trying to be more, when embracing your nature is what every inch of you wants? So, let me ask again. What are you?”

Florencia was exhausted. The room spun around her. She didn’t even bother to wonder about what they injected her with anymore. It had become part of her routine. Her life was inside this warehouse. What had come before seemed more and more like a dream, and Mistress Lucía’s words simply made sense. She had cum herself empty over and over and over again. Her own cousin had made her feel pleasure like never before. Was she better than an animal? Did she truly want to be better? Her lips moved before she could stop them.

“I’m… a pig.”

Lucía gripped the riding crop. 

“Again.”

“Pig”

She struck the Pig’s legs. She squealed and screamed.

“Pig!”

Another one, this time on her stomach.

“Pig!”

A third one, on her breasts. As pain and the pleasure from the vibe mixed, the Pig came again, and without her even noticing a new, strange sound escaped her lips.

“Oiiiink!”

V

The area around the cage smelled of desire, of passion, of raw animal need. It smelled of pussy. 

Inside the Pig did what she had been doing for the last two days. On all fours, eyes on the screen, pushed by stimulants and psychoactive drugs, her hand between her legs, she masturbated. She drooled. She tasted her own juices. She rubbed them on her tits. Looking at her, it was hard to imagine that creature inside had been a person. Dignity was a foreign concept to it. Language was something she barely used, communicating her delight in grunts, moans, oinks and scattered words directed at whoever was on screen and at herself. Lucía couldn’t help but feel proud. She had seen many women break, in many different ways, but this was special. Her feet up on the Cow’s back, she sat on her comfortable chair and watched.

“Fuck… use her… fucking pig… disgusting… oink! Love it… Cunt… love my cunt… Oink oink! Fuuuuck… hurt her… yessss… slap that bitch… Mommy… spit on me… yes yes yes… oink! Cum… cum… pig gonna cum again… piggy pussy… Oiiiink!”

Truly, it was a sight to see. But Lucía had to be a responsible caretaker, and the Sow’s feeding time had come. She ordered the Cow to open the cage.

The Pig came on all fours, her skin glistening with sweat, drool and her own juices. It had learned the routing quickly. As the Cow got on all fours, the Sow desperately went under it, looking for a tasty, perfect nipple. Everything Victoria had been doing to induce herself to lactate had worked perfectly, and the Sow now took full advantage. Even when feeding, she kept one hand busy, sliding two fingers in and out of her perpetually soaked pussy. The sounds of suckling, moaning and mooing echoed in the warehouse. It was beautiful.

Lucía opened her legs.

“Sow, time for dessert.”, she commanded.

The Pig crawled as quickly as she could and buried her face in that perfect, dark, delicious pussy. True, she didn’t have the skill of the Cow yet, but her enthusiasm was unmatched. Lucía let herself enjoy the sensation as the Sow did her best to make herself as dirty as possible, rubbing her whole face between Lucía’s legs, oinking and licking like her life depended on it. 

“Cow, stand in front of me. Grope those udders for me.”

The Cow obeyed instantly. Perhaps she would have liked some release, but unlike the Sow, she only came when commanded to. Instead she played with her tits for her Mistress, mooing mindlessly.

Lucía closed her eyes. She let herself bask in her triumph. Still, there was work to be done. After all, she couldn’t let the Pig rut around unchecked.

VI

Morning in that quiet street. A soft breeze swayed the trees. A doorbell rang. A woman opened the door, almost shaking with anticipation. It felt like Christmas morning.

The girls stood by Lucía, one by each side. They smiled with perfect, dumb happiness. They saw their owner and instantly, automatically chirped as one. “Hi Mommy!”

“It’s… done?” Mommy asked.

Lucía smiled like a wolf. 

“I am a professional.”, she replied. “Do you want to let us in so you can check the merchandise?”

“Yes, yes of course!”, said Mommy. Part of her couldn’t believe this beautiful woman had managed to tame Florencia in… what? A week and a half? But after what she had done to… no, for Victoria, she was starting to believe the dominatrix could work miracles.

They went into the living room, the girls standing at attention, mindlessly waiting to be told what to do. What to be. Lucía decided to give a little demonstration.

“Assume position”

The girls quickly stripped off their street clothes, and fully naked instantly went to their knees.

Lucía went to the busty blonde and asked:

“Who do you pretend to be?”

“Victoria!” she replied.

“What are you, truly?”

“A Cow!” beamed the blonde.

“Good.” Lucía moved on to the newest member of the very special family.

“Who do you pretend to be?”

“Florencia!”

“And what are you, deep down?”

“A Sow!”

“See? They can pass as normal. Somewhat. But they know what they are deep down. And above all… Cow, Sow, what would you do for Mommy?”

“Anything!”, they said with joy. They knew it to be true. None of them could fathom not obeying Mommy always, and to the best of their ability. It was their entire purpose.

“Please, Miss. Go ahead. They are yours. Do with them as you will.”

Mommy went to Victoria. So beautiful. So empty behind the eyes, almost as if she was waiting to be filled by her command, to be whatever Mommy said. But deep down… Mommy slapped one of Victoria’s breasts as hard as she could. The response was instinctive and primal.

“Moooooo!”

Mommy went to Florencia, a bit more hesitant. This girl had been on the edge of ruining everything. She had been horrified by Mommy and Victoria. Had Mistress Lucía truly fixed her? Only one way to find out. Mommy slid her foot off her shoe and rubbed it between Florencia’s legs. Mommy could feel it instantly on her skin. The Pig’s cunt was soaked.

“Oiiiink”, said the pig in response.

Mistress Lucía smiled. Truly, she was building a beautiful farm for this woman. The idea had its charm.

A dumb cunt farm… yes, that would be nice to own. 

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu

[maidragoste]

Happy Ending

Summary: Rhaenyra's eldest daughter falls ill after facing off against Aemond and Vhagar. Daeron, her secret lover, finds out and infiltrates Dragonstone to see her.

Commission by @elisey7. Thank you so much for trusting me to write your ideas. I really hope you like it 🥰🥰💖💖

If anyone else is interested in commissioning some work, feel free to DM me or order directly via Ko-fi. If you just enjoy my writing, even a Ko-fi tip is appreciated!

I remind you that comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated by me because they motivate me to continue writing 🥰🥰💖💖

My inbox is always open if you want to share your headcanons, thoughts, ir asks 🤗💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

I wish you all a good read!

Your whole body was burning, your head seemed to never settle, and you could barely stand to keep your eyes open for a couple of minutes. You felt terrible. And that's no surprise after flying with Vermithor in the rain. Not only that, but you also faced off against Vhagar. But you don't care how bad you feel now; you don't regret going to find Lucerys. If you had never gone, maybe your brother wouldn't be in this world anymore.

Being bedridden means you're missing all the Black Council meetings. It frustrates you because you want to be there. Your mother may not have wanted you to participate in this war, but after saving Lucerys, it should be enough to prove your worth. Not only that, but thanks to your father, Harwin, you'd learned to wield a sword. It would be unwise of your mother not to keep you in mind for future battles once you were recovered.

You couldn't wait to come face to face with the usurper who stole your mother's throne and make him pay.

Your only fear is finding yourself on the battlefield with Daeron. You don't know if it's the fever causing you to have so many nightmares about your sword harming the man you love, or if your subconscious is preparing you for the future. No matter which side wins, there will be no happy ending for you and Daeron. Your mother has to kill all your uncles to keep her claim as queen safe. And the greens would never show mercy to you and your brothers.

You wake up again with a stifled scream, your heart racing, and all sweaty. This time, you dreamed of Vermithor and Tessarion hurting each other, of you and Daeron burning.

“You’re okay, sweetheart, you’re okay.” You’re surprised to see your mother beside you, feeling your heart begin to calm as her caresses continue on your face. You always feel safe when she’s with you.

Jacaerys is also sitting on your other side. You're surprised to see him too. Your handmaidens tell you that he and your mother come to check on you whenever they can, but you're almost always unconscious. You only managed to stay awake to see Rhaena and Lucerys a couple of times. Your poor little brother felt guilty about your condition, so you used your limited energy to calm him down.

"Here, drink a little, princess," says Calla, your trusted handmaiden approaching with a cup of what you assume is water.

Your brother and mother help you sit up and then carefully hand the cup to you.

“Thanks, Jace,” you accept the glass, taking small sips, remembering how the last time you tried to drink it all at once, you ended up choking. You felt like their eyes weren't leaving you. You felt a little pathetic having to be so careful.

“Sweetheart, we need to talk about something,” your mother said once you finished your drink. “It's nothing bad,” she quickly clarified, seeing the concern on your face. “We've decided that once you're better, you'll marry Jace.”

It wasn't bad news, but it still made you feel bad. Your heart belonged to Daeron. No matter how many times you tried to distance yourself from him because you knew loving him would be a problem with all the bad blood between your families, your heart only wanted him. Daeron was never like your other uncles, who mocked you. You still remember how surprised you were to see how angry he was when he found out his brothers had locked you up with a dragon. You were lucky Vermithor chose you as his rider, otherwise you would have ended up dead.

“What about Baela? What does Lord Corlys think?” you asked quietly, not wanting them to see that you had hoped he would fight this agreement.

You didn't want to marry your brother. Baela would be a better wife for him than you. If you marry him, your marriage will start with him being disappointed in you when on your wedding night he discovers you are no longer pure. You were selfish and let Daeron deflower you. You didn't regret it. You had enjoyed every minute of his lips on your body and his hands discovering your sensitive spots, but you hadn't stopped to think about the consequences of your actions.

“He's your grandfather too, and he sees it as a smart move. People love you, daughter. They speak admiringly of the princess who stood up to Vhagar and saved her brother,” your mother said, taking your hand. You could hear the pride in her voice, and at any other time you'd be happy that she was proud of you, but now you're just worried about this wedding.

You don't know what to say, and Calla must see it because, even though it's out of place, she decides to intervene.

“My queen, my prince. I think we should let the princess continue to rest.”

“Yes, please,” you murmured as your mother and brother stared. You wanted to be alone; you didn't want to hear any more about the future union between you and your brother.

Daeron felt some of the tension in his body disappear at the sight of you. He moved closer to your bed to get a better look. You were asleep, which didn't surprise him given your condition, but the truth is, you looked much better than he'd imagined. When he heard about your illness, he was afraid it was something serious.

It hadn't been easy to enter Dragonstone, but thanks to Calla's help, he'd managed to reach your chambers without much trouble, disguised as a servant. He knew that when his mother found out, she'd yell at him for risking her life so foolishly just for you. But Daeron didn't care; he couldn't allow you to marry Jacaerys. He remembered how furious he'd been when he read Calla's letter. At first, he was worried about your health, but then he read your mother's plans to marry you off and knew he had to do something.

Daeron was planning to take you to King's Landing while you slept, risking that you would hate him later for taking you away from your mother. He could live with your anger and resentment. He knew that in time it would pass and you would understand that he did it out of love. But his plans were ruined by the storm. He couldn't fly with you in this weather; doing so would only make your illness worse. So now he had to stay in the castle until the rain stopped. Tessarion would know when to appear; he trusted his blue queen to come find them.

“Daeron,” you whispered in your sleep, making him smile.

“I wonder what you're dreaming about, my brave girl,” he said, caressing your face sweetly. It must have been a good dream because your face was relaxed.

Daeron saw how you slowly began to open your eyes. Perhaps you were a light sleeper, or perhaps you recognized his voice and needed to see him.

“Daeron, is it really you?” you asked softly, placing your hand on top of his to confirm.

“I'm here,” he instantly assured you, gently kissing your other cheek, not caring that your handmaiden was watching this display of affection. He only cares about you. He only cares about you. “Easy, let me help you,” he said when he saw that you wanted to settle in. Once you were seated, you threw yourself at him and hugged him. You hid your face in your lover's neck and felt his arms wrap around your waist.

“Daeron,” the anguish in your voice is clear, and he begins to feel your tears on his neck. You finally allow yourself to cry. You cry for the fear you felt when you faced Vhagar and lost Luke, for the fear you feel of marrying Jace and ruining your relationship with your brother, for the fear you have of losing Daeron, of being the one who hurt him.

“I've got you,” he assures you, kissing your head. “I'm here, there's nothing to worry about.”

But the gods must be laughing at you because the doors open and you're met with Jacaerys's furious glare and the shock and confusion in your mother's eyes. The royal guards are already drawing their swords, ready to fight if necessary.

You know you should stay away from Daeron, but you can't. Perhaps it's because you're also shocked that your secret came out, or perhaps you just don't see the point in lying and pretending that Daeron is here against your will when you just want to be with him.

"What are you doing?" Jacaerys demands, and you tighten your grip on your uncle as you feel his body tense. "Stay away from my wife."

Daeron clenches his jaw. If he didn't have you in his arms, he would have already rushed to hit your brother. How dare he refer to you as his?

"She's not yours. She won't marry you," he declares with cold fury.

“And who do you think you are to say who my daughter can marry?” Rhaenyra asks indignantly. “It doesn’t matter, I should have your head for even daring to come here. You’re a traitor.” She starts to get more nervous when she sees that you still haven’t left Daeron’s side. She notices how you tense up, looking at the guards. What did she miss? At what point did you start worrying about Daeron?

“I’m the father of her child,” he answers, and you look at him, unable to believe he just dropped that bombshell. He sounds so confident and looks so sure that for a moment you believe it. You turn to see your mother go pale and your brother looks like he’s just been stabbed.

“You’re not pregnant,” your mother says, and you finally move away from Daeron to approach her. You hate seeing her so upset, and it’s your fault.

“I don't know,” you stammer, feeling embarrassed.

"You might be, princess. Your period's been late for more than a month," Calla interjected, and for once you weren't relieved, because now you were terrified of actually being pregnant. This is the worst possible time to be expecting.

“I'll kill you. How dare you take advantage of my sister?” Jacaerys draws his sword and tries to approach Daeron, but stops when he sees you standing in front of him. Not only that, but you take the traitor's hand. He feels jealousy burning. It wasn't meant to be this way.

“He didn't take advantage of me,” you deny instantly, and it's the truth. Daeron didn't manipulate you into being with him. Your relationship began as a genuine friendship after he taught you how to ride, and over time, as you learned more about your uncle, you began to fall in love with him. “I love him, and he loves me.” You squeeze Daeron's hand, and he returns the gesture, confirming your words.

At your declaration, your chambers fall silent. The only thing that can be heard is the storm outside. The guards look at your mother, waiting for an order. Your brother and you also look at her expectantly, waiting for her reaction. How will the night end? With you disowned and Daeron dead?

The only one who seems calm is Daeron, showing no fear of what might happen to him. Rhaenyra glares at him; she feels no love for her brother and doesn't support your romance. He knows it, but from the way he looks at her, the arrogance in his eyes, and the small smile on his face, he also knows that she won't waste this opportunity to win another dragon over to her cause. Perhaps she could even gain important information about the greens.

"Daeron, if you truly love my daughter, then you will do the right thing. You will swear loyalty to me, support my claim, and I will allow you to marry her," your mother said, pretending not to see how Jacaerys sees her betrayed.

Then your lover lets go of your hand, and for a moment you fear he'll laugh at your mother and begin to defend Aegon's claim, but he surprises you by kneeling before her. And as you listen to him swear his loyalty to her, for the first time you have hope that there will be a happy ending for you and Daeron.

Seeing the shine of emotion in your eyes, Daeron feels guilty for lying. No matter how much he loves you, he'll never be able to support Rhaenyra. He knows his family will never be safe while she lives. But first, he'd make sure he had you, and then he'd begin planning how to further weaken your mother's claim and help his family from here.

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works

@chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @ajordan2020 @iloveallmyboys @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @snowprincesa1 @joyouart @rosey1981 @alastorhazbin @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @partypoison00 @labellapeaky @rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog @natashaobo @watercolorskyy @nyenye @savagemickey03 @kishie8 @ewwwitsel @arabis-world @missusnora @nzygftoji @alisoncdariel @cookielovesbook-akie @partnerincrime0 @klara-lily @427120lxld @justhereiguess2

@buckylahey @wa801 @artistadistrada2002 @thelastemzy @justanotherkpopstanlol @jacesvelaryons @aemondwhoresworld @cassiopeiablog @multiversemayhemme @dixie_elocin

[another-lost-mc]

Thinking about the Date Everything game except it takes place in the House of Lamentation.

Some of the objects are truly cursed with almost zero chance of dating them, assuming you survive meeting them at all. Most of the objects are similar to their human world counterparts, except they’re a bit more…well, demon-like. There’s an unfamiliar intensity in their eagerness to see you. Each greeting is laced with their desire to be your favourite object, their need to have your attention focused on them and nothing (no one) else. The competitiveness and aggression between them scares you. Some objects suddenly stop responding to you while others rejoice in their absence and mock their inferiority. It feels like an inside joke you’re being left out of on purpose but what you don’t know, can’t hurt you (yet).

The Devildom is already a spooky place but things escalate to new heights as you start meeting new friends in the house. The undesirables, the ones other objects warn you to stay away from. They’re the neglected objects tucked out of sight, the cursed objects that could kill you if you’re not careful, the shadows that are more than what they seem.

It’s not long before the eerie sensation of being watched creeps along your spine and never seems to go away. It doesn’t matter if you purposefully seek out objects or not—their interest has made them stronger and now it’s their turn to find you. The quiet sound of footfalls on the carpeted floors somewhere behind you aren’t just a figment of your imagination anymore. Candlesticks and oil lamps flicker in the dead of night. Items slide off the shelves by themselves. No matter what room you’re in, the furniture creaks softly, untouched, responding to nothing but your presence. You catch glimpses of fanged smiles and predatory grins whenever your eyes glance quickly over mirrors or the polished pieces of art decorating the stone walls.

Your bedroom is no different. The mattress sinks beneath your weight at night and it feels like an invisible embrace pulls you down before you manage to drag yourself out of bed. The doorknob sticks in the mornings when you’re already frazzled from sleep littered with dreams you can’t quite remember. The demon brothers grumble about misshapen door frames and worn out metal hinges. It feels silly to tell them that uttering a quiet please is usually enough to coax the door to open for you—for now, anyway.

If you’re brave enough to tell the others—while risking angering the house in the process—it does little to soothe your nerves. The objects don’t usually respond if anyone else is nearby. They don’t see what you see or feel what you feel. Of course things are strange and mystical and dangerous here in the Devildom, that’s their specialty. The demon brothers think you’re paranoid and the angels soothe your worries as best they can. Solomon’s curiosity, charming in most other situations, only serves to frustrate you because he’s no help either. He’s never experienced this during his immortal lifetime visiting the Devildom, so how could such a thing happen to you?

The point is, your friends might mean well but they know firsthand how delicate humans like you can be with your delectable souls and fragile bodies and timid hearts. Whatever you think you’re going through, they believe that this too will pass with time. It’s no different from any other hardship you’ve managed to overcome since you joined them in their world.

You’re the Devildom’s precious exchange student, after all. Why would anyone want to harm you? You’ve endeared yourself to the young prince and his most trusted advisors. You’ve become someone precious, someone worth admiring.

Everyone in the Devildom seems to love you.

Everyone.

[ohburgee]

Chapter One - Weakened

summary: After defeating Greed, Solitude, and Fear, an overwhelming emptiness sets in. Builderman, no, Hatred, the embodiment of Hatred, unknowingly freed by you from his seal. Instead of fighting or killing you, he trapped you in the dream world, holding you back with invisible chains. Eventually, hopelessness consumes you, but Hatred treats you gently. an: Sorry for the stupid changes, I moved the story here instead since this platform is more likely to be active than AO3. Also, I want the people here who only have Tumblr and don't have AO3 to read this. So this story will be posted here from now on. I don't want my stars to be left behind :) This is the AU story of Hatred.

Chapter's: 2 tw: Psychological Manipulation, Emotional Manipulation

Player...

You hear whispering, low voices, calling out to you.

Player...

It’s getting louder.

Player!!

Louder...

PLAYER!!!

You gasp awake, sitting up abruptly in bed. A dizzy hits you like a wave, and you groan, clutching your head. Your body feels heavy... Drained.

Looking around, you realize you're in the same small house. The air is still, unnaturally quiet.

You glance down at your hands, trembling and weak. You can barely feel your strength.

Your mind strains to remember, and then it hits you. You were defeated. By Hatred. "Hatred...?" you whisper, alarmed.

You push yourself to stand, but your legs give out. You collapse back onto the bed, your whole body throbbing with weakness.

Then, footsteps. Slow. Purposeful. And there he is. Builderman...? No. Hatred. He stands in the doorway, still wearing a Builderman’s form, but something is wrong.

Two sharp, pointed red horns protrude from his head, and a long tail flicks behind him.

“You should stay lying down,” he says, approaching you with a strangely calm tone. “You’re weak.” He helps guide you back to the bed, his touch cold yet gentle in a twisted way.

“Where... am I?” you ask, eyes scanning the room. “You’re still in the dream world,” Hatred replies.

Your breath hitches. The memories flood back, fighting Hatred, pushing yourself to the limit.

His power. The pain. The defeat. You should be dead. “I... I’m supposed to be dead,” you murmur. He chuckles at your words. Then, to your horror, he reaches out, his fingers softly brushing your cheek.

“You’re interesting, Player,” he says. “I haven’t found anyone... or anything... more delightful.” He steps back, watching your every move.

You push yourself upright again, muscles screaming in protest. Hatred makes no move to stop you; he just watches as you struggle to stand. You manage it, barely, though pain spikes through every limb.

What happened to you?

Before you can take a step, a bright flash of light blinds you. The world shifts, and suddenly, you’re somewhere else entirely.

The walls pulse with red and white. Veins writhe along the ground like roots. Purgatory. You’re back here. You rise slowly, ears ringing with whispers.

“Give in...”

You shake your head. Hands cover your ears, but the voices only grow louder.

“You are not helping anyone.”

“You are not helping yourself.”

You stumble forward, the terrain squelching beneath your feet.

“All you do is hurt others.”

“All you do is hurt yourself.”

You grit your teeth, fists clenched tight.

“Stop it... stop it...” you whisper, again and again.

You round a corner and slam into a swirling, fleshy vortex.

“He can make you beautiful.”

“He will make you perfect.”

You shove it away, screaming.

“One. Of. Us!!”

You run, through endless hallways, spirals of madness, grotesque shapes that leer from the walls. You run until you collapse. Pain. Torment. Weak.

You try to stand until you hear them. Footsteps. Soft, deliberate. You look up. Builderman. Your lips move, trying to call for help, but no sound escapes.

You’re voiceless. Powerless. Desperate.

He only smiles. Those red horns. That tail. Hatred. He steps closer, extending a hand to you. “Just give in, Player,” he says, voice slick and cold.

“No one can save you. No one can help you.” You clench your fists. Rage wells up.

“That’s more like it,” Hatred grins. “That anger... that madness... that hatred inside you.” He spreads his arms open like he’s welcoming you.

“You’re not escaping me.” His eyes gleam.

“You’re making yourself stay with me.”

You look away. Pain throbs in your chest, your mind fraying. “Weakened by your heroism and bravery,” Hatred murmurs.

He kneels before you, claws brushing your cheeks, cupping your face. His hands, red, veined, corrupted, crawl with red infection. “Give in... Give in to me.”

You let out a soft, broken whimper. You can’t take the pain. You want it to stop. Your trembling hands reach toward his. Slowly, reluctantly. He steps closer, gripping your arm.

His form twists, no longer human. A monstrous face grins at you. The wide mouth opened like it would swallow you. You close your eyes.

And surrender.

. . .

You wake with a jolt. You gasp for air, panic surging. But... arms wrap around you. Hatred, still in Builderman’s form, is holding you close on a sofa chair. You freeze, confused.

“You escaped,” he says softly. You blink. “What...?” “You gave yourself in,” he continues, gently brushing sweat from your forehead.

His touch lingers, tender in a way that makes your stomach twist. “I’m not going to force your thoughts,” he whispers. “You’re still weak. You need to rest.”

He places his palm on your forehead. Warm. Heavy. “You don’t have to think anymore. You gave me everything.” You slowly close your eyes as he still caressing his hands to your head. His smile widens.

“Now... you’re finally mine.”

n: Trapped with this Hatred is the prologue of this. Also all of you keep asking for dark hatred, so here you go, my stars, your dark hatred story :> Also, this is dark but not too dark.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Ohh I just thought of one actually after watching the Monaco GP, I like the idea of the reader and Charles been enemies on the track like always pushing each other off etc, however reader sees Charles getting a lot of hate for not getting pole in his home race, and in the final few laps reader has managed to over take Lando for the lead and realises how important the race is too Charles so holds Lando up and lets Charles take the lead (we all know that’s what max did too) and at the end he whispers thank you and they all make up and fluffy and kissy and she’s like I don’t know what your talking about,

It’ll never be the same

i am backkkkk and here is a soft small fic to celebrate 🥳

The sun had barely risen over the jewel-toned coast of Monaco, and yet the streets were already echoing with the high-pitched roar of engines. The city was alive electric with anticipation.

But none of it mattered to you. Not the cameras. Not the fans. Not even the podium dreams hanging in the air like saltwater mist.

Only one thing mattered today -: beating Charles Leclerc.

He was Monaco’s prince. The prodigy. The boy raised by the streets that now shaped into curves and chicanes under your tires. And you? You were the problem child of the paddock the one with enough fire in your blood to challenge a golden boy on his home turf. Every race weekend, it was the same. You and Charles locking wheels, hearts racing, always pushing the boundary between rivalry and war.

Last weekend in Imola, he ran you wide in Turn 6. The one before that in Miami, you boxed him in so tight he radioed Ferrari with a full symphony of curse words.

And Monaco? It was meant to be the crescendo

Qualifying was a mess. Charles had been the favourite fastest in all three practice sessions. But in Q3, he clipped the barrier in the swimming pool section. Just enough to kill the lap. The cameras caught his jaw tighten, his gloves clenched. The Monaco crowd went silent for him in a way they never did for anyone else.

And you? You were third on the grid, right behind Lando in P2, and Max in P1.

Charles was stuck in sixth.

You didn’t gloat. Not this time.

Because when you walked past him in the paddock that night and caught the press hounding him like vultures, microphones shoved too close, voices questioning if he’d ever win in Monaco you saw something you weren’t used to seeing in him.

Vulnerability.

And for once, it didn’t make you feel powerful. It made you ache.

Race day.

The air was heavy with heat and tension. The tarmac shimmered, and so did the stakes. As the lights went out, your instincts took over. You were flawless slipping past Max with a lunge into Sainte Devote, a calculated move that left even the commentators breathless.

Then, you hunted Lando lap after lap until, finally, on Lap 68, he braked just a touch too early at Rascasse. You pounced.

P1. You were leading Monaco.

And Charles? By some miracle strategy, brilliance, or sheer Monaco chaos he was now right behind Lando in P3.

The crowd was screaming. Your heart was thundering. You could taste champagne already.

But then

You glanced at the big screen. A replay.

Charles diving down the inside of Oscar a few laps earlier, wheel-to-wheel, sheer audacity. He was driving like a man possessed. But even more than that, the camera caught him in the cockpit silent, focused, jaw tight not angry.

Desperate.

This wasn’t about points for him. This was Monaco. It was family. Legacy. Ghosts he hadn’t laid to rest.

And suddenly, it hit you like a wall of G-force.

This wasn’t your win.

It never was.

You saw the narrowest window open as you exited the tunnel. Lando breathing down your neck, Charles closing in on him. You had the pace to hold both of them off. You should have.

Instead, you eased just slightly enough for your engineer to squawk confusion in your ears.

“Box? Why are you—wait, you’re slowing?”

You blocked Lando just enough. Not dirty. Just enough to give Charles the line he needed. He didn’t hesitate.

Lap 77. Charles overtook both of you in a move so clean, so poetic, the crowd erupted like firecrackers.

And you? You sat back and watched.

Let him take it.

Let Monaco give him back his soul.

Final lap.

You finished third. Lando second.

Charles? He crossed the line with a sob in his throat and a whole nation roaring his name. He did his cool-down lap with tears streaking his cheeks. You’d never seen him cry. Not even when you collided in Austria two seasons ago and he got a DNF because of it.

You waited by parc fermé, helmet still on.

He climbed out of the Ferrari, trembling. The moment his eyes found you through the crowd, something broke open.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

He walked up to you slowly, cautiously, like you were something holy and dangerous all at once. His hand curled around your wrist and leaned close, lips brushing the edge of your helmet.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Soft. Raw.

And your voice came through your visor before you could stop it.

A smirk ghosted your lips.

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

Later, on the balcony above the harbor, champagne in your hands, the sun melting into the Mediterranean, Charles found you again. No cameras. No crowd. Just sea breeze and silence.

You barely had time to react before his lips found yours gentle at first, then urgent, like he’d been waiting a lifetime.

When you pulled away, breathless and flushed, he laughed against your cheek.

“You’re still insufferable.”

“And you’re still a drama queen,” you replied.

His arms wound around your waist, forehead against yours.

But the rivalry? Still there. You could feel it under your skin, crackling like static.

Only now, it had teeth. And it had tenderness.

Monaco would never be the same again.

[chewnchuu]

How to Familiarize Your Pussy

pairing: cat hybrid!Blade x cat hybrid!reader

tags: MDNI, fem!reader, demi human pets, suggestive in a couple scenes but no full blown guts getting blown out, Kafka is Blade's owner, Silver Wolf is your owner, Kafka + SW are roommates(kinda), Silver Wolf and (mostly)Kafka are trying to get you and Blade to know each other without Blade trying to kill you (allegedly) or without you running away from the big cat trying to kill you(allegedly), Kafka got that money, scent fetish, freaky kitties(you AND Blade), hybrids don't speak here but still understand humans, you and Blade have no lines in this play, not proofread

notes: @ mewnbuns did this hybrid fic except Blade and reader were dogs. I wanted to write Blade as a cat hybrid, so here we are. The post fic clarity is gonna hit with this one though... Well, not too bad, I mean I had to bounce back after a good chunk of this fic got deleted so I had to write it all over again from scratch. Then I let it rot in my drafts... This has way more words than it should tbh so it gets a bit rushed at the end.

You were an average cat, with a shut in owner. This arrangement didn't bother you. You helped your oddly named owner, Silver Wolf, with chores. It was your duty to keep her house clean. Although she never asked you to, you just couldn't leave her house to be littered with empty cans, chip bags, and any other gunk she'd allegedly pick up later or so she'd claim.

All you could do was roll your eyes and silently tidy around your home. It was a peaceful arrangement. You were never bothered by her, occasionally you'd relax in her room while she worked from home or played games in her room. You couldn't speak to her in her language even if you wanted to. Your days were spent preoccupied with either cleaning, sleeping, eating, watching TV, or indulging in your hobbies. You didn't need to bring in any income. You stayed at home all day, and did your most important job of all, which was to be a cat.

You didn't interact with anyone else besides Silver Wolf. That didn't bother you. You weren't properly socialized anyway. You knew basic interaction, but that was it. Occasionally you'd go out on your own to the local convenience store to pick up snacks for yourself and Silver Wolf. Maybe a dog demihuman would scare you on occasion, thankfully with a chain attached, but that was it. It was a short trip there and back to your safe haven where no one bothered you. It was a peaceful arrangement. You'd never change that.

There was no way that'd be able to change even if you wanted it to. Though, why would you? A peaceful home, an amicable owner who also keeps to herself? Plenty of food, a place to rest, entertainment, you practically have it all.

What you have? That would never change. You would never even dream of it.

Until your home was destroyed in a freak construction accident one fateful afternoon. It was a once in blue moment between you and Silver Wolf. You returned from that same convenience store to be greeted with the rubble and remains of your home. It was a horrifying sight to behold. You felt so helpless in that moment.

With shared effort, you both managed to scrounge up some of your belongings that were miraculously still intact. After organizing yourselves a bit and composing from the shock, Silver Wolf tells you that you'll both have a place to stay in the meantime.

After calling an Uber, you arrive at a very luxurious looking home about two and half hours from your crumbled one. Beyond the front gate, you soon find out it's gorgeous, with well tended to flowers in the front, garden chairs and tables with other rich people decor, and a lovely designed fountain in the center. You can't help but stare in awe as you meeky follow behind Silver Wolf to the front door. You're still rubbing your eyes from the long nap you took during the ride here. You cautiously stare as she rings the doorbell.

A beautiful woman greets you both. An acquaintance at the very least of your owner. No, perhaps a bit more familiar? How could someone like your owner just come to the house of someone like— that? This just didn't seem like the type to be associated with Silver Wolf of all people. Beautiful, clean, well kept, elegant, graceful demeanor. Just how? The woman chuckles as she notices your face contort in confusion as you study her.

"Your pet looks a bit confused, I think she's judging you Silver Wolf." oh and her voice is as decadent and pretty as she looks.

Silver Wolf shoots you a look before rolling her eyes. "I think she always does that honestly." She's right, you do, always with love of course. Although you wouldn't change her for the most part anyway.

"She seems pretty reserved." The woman comments, "I wonder how Bladie will react to her though. I highly doubt he'll be jumping for joy when he sees another cat here. He's already warmed up to you enough Silver Wolf." Another cat? Your ears twitch at the mention. Surely living with another cat shouldn't be so bad?

Your owner scoffs at her words. "Oh please Kafka, Blade barely even tolerates me. There's nothing warm about him."

Kafka hums, tapping her chin with a gloved hand before she motions you both to come inside. "Well, come in then. We'll have to discuss how to introduce them both. I'd hate for you to lose your cat." Suddenly you don't feel so welcome anymore as the hair on the back of your neck stands up. You nervously glance at Silver Wolf before you don't have a choice but to follow her inside.

The inside of Kafka's house is rather expensive, you can tell just by a quick glance around. All her decorations and furniture look like they cost a fortune even on their own. The kitchen and living room were massive. It's beautiful, really, but not enough to distract you from the looming threat to your very existence in the air. You can only assume that foreign smell ghosting your nostrils is that of another cat. It must be this Blade you keep hearing about. Oh how you hope he hasn't sensed you yet. The way Silver Wolf and Kafka mentioned him, he seems more like a rabid dog than a cat. Is it bad to think that?

Silver Wolf leads you over to a pair of lavish couches, you reluctantly take a seat on one of them. Silver Wolf sits next to you while Kafka takes a seat on the opposing couch. "I am sorry to hear about your house Silver Wolf, it's rather unfortunate to lose it so suddenly. I am glad you and your car are unscathed. I don't mind you both staying here at all, although I do worry about how our cats will adjust."

You look over at your owner, in your mind you wonder, how will you adjust? You've never really been associated with another cat. Silver Wolf never fully socialized you. Only rarely did you encounter other humans. Silver Wolf thinks for a moment, clicking her tongue.

"[Name] likes to keep to herself, so she wouldn't be a rush to meet Blade. Besides I doubt she wants to right now, she's been getting even more anxious as we speak."

She's damn right you're anxious! You want to shut yourself in a room as fast as possible if it means avoiding this big scary cat you keep hearing about. You shift in your spot uncomfortably, your tail wrapping around your waist..

"Awe, sweetie... Bladie won't hurt you." Kafka coos at you in an attempt to soothe your nerves.

You don't believe her for a second no matter how silky her voice sounds in your fluffy ears.

"There are a couple of guest rooms on the opposing side of the house. It's the opposite from Blade's room. There's a bathroom on each side as well. I sleep on the second floor, so come up there if you need me."

You wish you could ask to be on the second floor too, but then you'll have to jump from a window in the event you'll have to escape this house entirely.

"Got it, anything else I should know?" Silver Wolf asks her.

"Make sure [Name] stays in her room for now. At least until Blade gets used to her, we don't want to introduce them suddenly. Blade is a sort of— guard cat. He's pretty on edge with strangers as you know. You should personally deliver [Name]'s food to her room and watch her come and go from the bathroom even if it's just across the hall. Blade does chores for me around the house when he's not in his room. He's more used to you though, so you should be alright." Kafka explains. Each word has your stomach churning more and more.

You're nearly certain you may as well die here. You'd like to get to your room this instant. "He should be in his room now actually, he likes to keep himself too usually." Well that'd be a relief if it didn't feel so obvious that your life was in danger. Silver Wolf is gonna make you stay here? Is she insane?

Silver Wolf yawns and you could almost smack her in the mouth right now and how at ease she was feeling while you're practically at the edge of your seat to get up and leave. Alas, you're just a cat with little value with no connections at all. You're helpless. You're stuck here. No one's coming to save you. These thoughts rotate in your head as the words between Silver Wolf and Kafka buzz out of your ears.

Finally after a few minutes, before she has to take her leave to go to work, Kafka dismisses you both to your new rooms down the hall. The opposite side to Blade who you've yet to see.

You can't hop into the bed fast enough. It feels like ages since you've been able to relax. Your body melts into the luxurious sheets and blankets. It's heavenly. Silver Wolf watches you revel in the bed, a snort escapes her. You turn to face her with the side of your face smooshed into a pillow. Your tail slowly swishes back and forth and your worries slip away just like that. It feels so safe in this bed.

Your owner snaps her fingers in order to get your attention again. You groan.

"Hey, don't forget, you can't leave your room. I'll be in the room next to yours. Knock— or I guess scratch on the wall if you need food or the restroom, okay?" Her tone is light-hearted, but you can hear the slight concern in it. Though you can't display it, you're appreciative that she's at least a little worried for you. You nod obediently before turning on your side, nestling into the bed. You hear a 'sleep well' and the door shut. Your eyes slowly blink at the window. How did you get here? Slowly you fade into a state of unconsciousness, hoping this was all a weird dream.

When you wake up, it's pitch black. The only source of light is of the moon that peaks through the curtain. You groan as you sit up, stretching your arms. Sadly, not a dream. Although the bed was still heavenly. You slowly scoot out of bed with an urge to relieve yourself, feet planting on the floor before you make your way towards the door. Your hand hesitates before it reaches the door handle. Blade. The warning. Surely he wasn't up at this hour right? Slowly you open the door, cautiously peeking out of it first.

The bathroom door was right across from you and Silver Wolf's rooms. You should be back in your room before anyone would potentially notice you. So you take the chance. Swiftly tip toeing across the hall and shutting the bathroom door behind you. There isn't a single window, so you flick the light on. It's bright, nearly blinding as you adjust from the previous lack of light. A small hiss escapes you as you cover your eyes for a moment. You need to get this over with and get back to bed.

Warm water and lavender scented hand soap run down your hands. It's a pleasant sensation. You turn the water off once you finish, drying your hands with the soft black hand towel. You click the light off, thinking you won't need it with your room being so close by.

After feeling around on the door, your hand clasps around the door handle. You open it, your heart stops.

There's someone there. It's dark, but you can vaguely make out the figure of a much larger, muscular individual. Blade, it's him. It has to be. You stop, not an inch of you moves as your hair raises in alarm. There's a lump in your throat as you sense him looming over you in the darkness. His presence is domineering as it is terrifying. Strands of dark navy blue fading to red cascade over his shoulder as he leans down to your face. Your breath hitches, to escape this moment would be futile. It was far too late to shut yourself in the bathroom again. Although you doubt the door would stand a chance even if you managed to.

His eyes are like daggers, his gaze itself felt akin to a threat. Thick silence between you both is soon filled with the sound of your gagging with Blade's hand swiftly at your throat. He raises you up by your neck. Your heart is racing, your ears are flat against your head as your tail and legs flail in desperation. Through tears you gape at him with fear.

He doesn't kill you, at least he's not quite trying to, at least not yet. You try your best to steady your desperately beating heart, your hands pathetically clawing and swatting at the bigger cat's arm and his hand that grips your neck. The minor wounds you attempt to inflict don't bother him. Blade was so— uncanny. He just didn't give off the warmth of another living being. It was odd, but it almost felt that he didn't even want to be here dealing with you in a sense.

He observes you a little longer before his face closes in, the tip of his nose brushing against your shoulder. You can hear him sniffing you as if to further inspect you. Oddly enough, it gives you a moment to calm down, although not by much. You feel him huff into your shoulder and you stiffen. He looks at you with a disinterested stare, but there is still a hint of hostility— or was it disgust in those fiery colored eyes of his. It almost seemed that he was determining if you were a threat or not. In what seemed to be a miracle, he released you. You struggled to stand up straight as your feet hit the ground suddenly. You use your hand to steady yourself against the door frame. You can feel Blade's eyes on you, looking you over one last time before he disappears into the pitch black down the hall. Footsteps soon turn to silence, your hand has been subconsciously rubbing your throat. You feared moving from your spot until you were certain he was in his own room.

Once you're sure it's safe to move, you quickly scamper back to your room and shut the door behind you. Your breathing picks up against as deep breaths puff in and out of you. That was Blade.

To your surprise, no one had come to save you from him, instead he let you go of his own volition. Why? What was his motive? You try your best to forget the way he looked at you, all with your fragile life dangling in his hands. Your ears are still flattened against your head, you wipe the last of your tears as you go back to crawl into bed, tucking yourself under the covers this time. You didn't want to wake Silver Wolf, so you decided to suck it up and go back to sleep.

The next day, when Silver Wolf comes to check on you, you practically fling yourself at her. She nearly falls flat on her back with you clinging to her. "W-woah hey! What's with you?" You can't even tell her how the big scary cat was camped outside the bathroom ready to jump you last night. You nuzzle against her cheek, not a common thing, but you were craving affection after that recent scare last night.

With prodding from you, Silver Wolf has breakfast with you in your room on the floor. You happily scarf up the food. You had no idea your owner was capable of making food as tasty as this. Which was suspicious...

"You like it?" She asks through chews of her omelette and you shake your head yes in delight. "Me too, apparently Blade always makes breakfast for Kafka, so she asked him to make a bit more for us."

Similarly to last night, you begin to gag and choke on your food. Silver Wolf hastily smacks your back before offering you water. "Sorry, is he your new trigger word?" She half jokes, but she sounds concerned. "I'm not sure when we'll be able to go back to our old home, I'm still trying to work things out with my insurance company. Maybe sue those workers for negligence while I'm at it... all my games, my consoles..."

You begin to hear her mutter in annoyance as you drink your water, you can only imagine how that must've felt for your hermit owner to have her equipment and belongings destroyed like that. Of course you were upset you had lost some of your toys, art supplies, and books. Not to mention your clothes. It was mostly pajamas and lounge wear. Nothing fancy of course, but still you had your favorites you mourned a little bit.

Silver Wolf, for once, takes both your dishes when you're finished eating. It's not like you can comfortably go out there, and you certainly won't if Blade is still in that kitchen. Before she leaves, she tells you something that makes your heart drop.

"...I'm gonna have to leave you here with Kafka for the weekend. Kafka's house is a two and a half hour drive to the city and back. I'm gonna be at a hotel while I try to set things up to get us back on our feet. Kafka will be the one to feed you when she's here. You'll have snacks too, don't worry."

You're fighting the urge to cry as you listen, but you hold back. You're visibly sulking though which makes Silver Wolf sigh. "You'll be okay, Kafka will have plenty of things for you to keep you entertained. There's a TV in here too." Her attempts to console you fall on deaf ears. The only thing that really comforts you is the narrative that Blade won't come into your room, at least you hope he doesn't. When Silver Wolf shuts the door behind her, you flop down onto your bed, your tail whipping against the mattress in annoyance. This weekend was gonna be a living nightmare for you, you could just feel it.

Sometime after Silver Wolf leaves, you receive a knock on your bedroom door. It's Kafka obviously, you doubt Blade would knock. You open the door for her, and she has a box in her arms. You're incredibly curious about its contents, you can only assume what's inside is for you.

"Silver Wolf let me know about some of the things you liked, so I got some stuff to keep you busy and some clothes. You've been in those clothes since yesterday, surely you'd like to clean up and change right?" Her voice is almost like honey, it honestly feels a little sultry with how smooth it is, but Kafka is rather easy to listen to that way. You carefully take the box, excited to take a look inside and she chuckles at your excitement.

"I'll leave you to it, and don't worry, Bladie will be doing some outdoor chores for a while. Don't feel too skittish on your way across the hall." there's a teasing undertone in her voice. Had she seen you and Blade last night? Surely not. She would've done something to help you right? It's not like you can ask her as Kafka left as soon as she came.

You rummage through the box, tail swaying in a relaxed motion as you do so. Your face brightens as you pull out a sketchbook as well as crayons and colored pencils. Some stuffed animals and fidget toys. There's an assortment of books, all your favorite genres, there's multiple pairs of pajamas that even suit your style. Although you were an adult, as a demihuman pet, even the more child centered items were common things your kind were given no matter the age. Your kind weren't allowed to own their own communication devices. You gaze in delight at one of the stuffed animals, although one smells— a little off. As if it's just been washed, but there's another faint scent of cat hair. Blade's hair. This was Blade's? That hulking unit who had you dangling in the air has a stuffed animal? And Kafka gave it to you? Oh she's absolutely plotting on your downfall. She must be, because what is this!?

Had you upset her? Does she want you six feet under in itsy bitsy pieces?

You nervously put Blade's plushy back in the box. It's not like you can leave your room and give it back to him. You don't even want to imagine what he'd do to you if he knew you had it.

You take everything else out of the box, placing your new clothes inside the dresser you had in your room into one drawer and your sources of entertainment into another. Your stuffed animals you place on your bed against your pillows. The sound of a mower starting causes you to jump in alert. You creep towards the window with one of your stuffed toys in your arms. Carefully, you peaked through the curtain. Kafka did mention Blade was outside doing chores. That's exactly what he was doing, shirtless while pushing the mower across the grass in the backyard.

He looked so... calm. He appeared to look almost friendly in comparison to the other night. With proper light from the sun, you could see his features much better now. He had a lot of scars on his body, and who knows how he got those. Admittedly, he was also easy on the eyes, looking a bit closer at his face. You shuddered at your own thoughts before you stepped away from the window. You set your plushie back down before you grab a pair of clothes. You remember there had been a nice stack of clean towels in the bathroom across from your room already as well as other standard toiletries. A nice bit of freshening up would definitely do you good.

You still feel the need to look down the hall into the rest of the house before scampering into the bathroom. Again, you'd shut the door behind you, setting your change of clothes onto the counter. You begin to undress, stripping down and discarding your clothes into the bathroom's hamper.

After a nice warm shower, a coat of deodorant, a nice helping of lotion and a light dosage of perfume, you look at yourself in the mirror. You look clean, more relaxed with your cozy pajamas on, the shower definitely helped calm your nerves a bit. You take a deep breath, your ears flickering a bit. There's a toothbrush holder with an unused toothbrush in it. It's simple, a blue color, with a couple of white stripes at the bottom. You wet the brush with a bit of water before applying toothpaste on it so you can brush your teeth. It's so refreshing. The feeling of the bristles against your gums, gliding across your tongue. You brush your teeth for at least five minutes, daydreaming as you did so.

Once you finish and spit, you rinse your mouth with mouthwash. A satisfied hum escapes you as you exit the bathroom. You smile, looking down the hall without worry, only for worry to come rushing back, your face falters, your hair and tail raise as your body stiffens.

A few feet away from you stands Blade, still without shirt with a nice coat of sweat, the scent of him tickles your nostrils. Somehow it isn't an entirely bad smell to you. It's almost alluring. Blade stares at you and you hope he doesn't plan to get any closer. Thankfully, he seems to be observing you with disinterest as his gaze only lingers on you for a short moment before he leaves to go to his side of the house. You assume it's to take a shower himself considering it seems like he just came back from mowing the lawn.

You watch as he walks off, your ears fold as your tail whips behind you wildly as you stay in the hall for a moment to savor his scent a little longer. It's so odd, the scent of his sweat is almost better than the body wash you just used to clean yourself with. It nearly leaves you in a complete daze before you literally smack yourself to come to your senses. You quickly disregard the encounter, returning to your room.

Another problem presents itself to you, so it seems. Your eyes linger on the box Kafka gave you earlier. The plushy from before flashes in your mind. Blade's scent... It feels somewhat wrong, but you don't quite care as your hand subconsciously reaches for the stuffed creature inside. You hug it close to your body before hopping into bed. Your face squishes into it with a deep inhale and you feel your entire body shudder with delight. You're rubbing and squishing your face all over Blade's toy, purring as you take in the crumbs of his scent. Oh how you were beginning to crave some of his musk straight from the source. It was humiliating, and you did feel a little ashamed of this sudden desire inside you. Especially for someone you were sure was gonna kill you. He might still, you're not sure anymore.

Your hand reaches for the remote to the TV at your nightstand. You roll through some channels after turning it on, settling for an action adventure film you don't know the name of. You weren't really paying attention either after you got up to grab your sketchbook and pencils so you could draw absentmindedly. Occasionally you'd glance at the stuffed animal at your side. Something's definitely wrong with you right now...

Later that day in the evening, Kafka brings you dinner. Dinner that had been prepared by Blade as so had breakfast and lunch. You eat your dinner in silence. You'd be an absolute liar if you even hinted that Blade's cooking was mediocre or less than subpar. You had made plenty of meals for Silver Wolf during the time you spent as her pet, but sadly it didn't hold a candle to Blade's culinary skills. The meat was so supple and tender, juices squirting in your mouth with every nip of your teeth. It's almost too good, not to mention the perfectly cooked, well seasoned side dishes. Blade was such a strange cat.

Actually you're surprised your dishes have been of such high quality. No attempts to poison you or mess with your food? Well, considering Kafka was delivering all your meals, you guess Blade wouldn't try anything suspicious thankfully.

You're not surprised by how quickly you finished, the meal was delectable. Not only had you scarfed it down in minutes, you literally licked the plate clean. It almost made you forget that you weren't supposed to leave your room. You stand at your room door plate in one hand while your other is inches away from the door knob. You crouch to put your plate down near the door in a position where it doesn't get hit by it. You stare at the empty dish, your ears twitching.

You wonder if you could perhaps have a little more...

If he cooked for you, maybe you could ask for a second helping? Should you risk it though?

The scent of food is still very present in the air, you can't help but open the door. You shouldn't be leaving your room, but you're just not full yet. The scent only becomes more potent, and almost like a cartoon, it leads you to the source. You're led to the kitchen and living room.

You see Kafka, and she immediately spots you from her couch, a book nestled in her hand. She smiles at you, it's a little unnerving, as she looks at you who displays resemblance to a deer in headlights— cat in this case. "Oh hello [name]. Are you still hungry?"

Of course you are, you nod yes at her question. It's obvious by the slight bit of drool dribbling down your lip, you wipe it off quickly at the realization.

"Don't worry, I'm not mad you left your room. Go ahead and get however much you'd like from the kitchen."

A smile spreads across your face as you enthusiastically nod. You turn on your heel, but soon pale as you see familiar long blue hair with a red gradient at the ends. He's staring directly at you, his eyes were on you as soon as you made an appearance. There's a plate in front of him as he has himself seated one of the chairs art the kitchen's waterfall counter. It always feels like he's just— studying you, as if to make sure you wouldn't try anything he deemed a threat. If it was an attempt to warn you, it worked. You're already plenty familiar with his strength, and you'd rather not end up in a chokehold again. He huffs at you— no, it's more of an exasperated sigh, like it's permission to go into the kitchen.

You timidly nod to him in acknowledgement. It's clear to you that he doesn't like you or hold interest in you besides the fact that you're in his owner's house. You shuffle over to the stove, clutching your plate. There's some meat in one pan and some stir fried mushrooms in another as well a small pot of rice being kept warm. Before you can even touch the ladle, a secure grasp on your shoulder stops you. Instantly, you freeze, your tail sticking up and your ears pointed in alert. The hand you were initially using to try and grab the ladle slowly retracted to your side. Your eyes look and see Blade over your shoulder in your peripheral. When did he even get beside you? You didn't even hear him get up, not a single footstep reached your ears.

That same stoic gaze pins you to where you stand as you watch him grab the ladle off the counter. His other hand leaves your shoulder to reach for your plate and you don't hesitate to let it go once he grabs it. You nervously wait for his next move and you're gobsmacked when he begins fixing your plate for you. Maybe he felt obligated to? Less to be nice, but maybe just to fulfill his role as a servant— 'pet' in the home.

So you let him get your food, or more accurately, he simply doesn't let you get your own food. It'd almost feel like a nice gesture if it wasn't for that unnerving aura he carried. You both couldn't talk like your owners, but even for your own kind, he just seemed... off. You don't wanna know what's wrong with him. As long as he doesn't threaten your life again. Although his presence alone feels like one... You think the two of you might be able to coexist after all.

Blade takes his time fixing your plate while you awkwardly stand close to him as you haven't moved an inch since he approached. Bandaged hands meticulously place each serving of nourishment on your plate. You drool at the sight— of food. Soon he has your plate ready, handing it over to you, which your hands graciously take. Although a tad reluctant, you thank him with a warm smile with a slow blink. Despite how unreadable his expression was, you'd rather neutrality over hostility. Those eyes of his, they did seem more relaxed in a sense, perhaps it's your imagination or his cooking that clouds your mind.

Unbeknownst to you both, Kafka closely inspects your interaction. As if a plot was brewing in her mind, there's a strange twinkle in her eyes before she goes back to her book. "Would you like to eat in here [name]?"

The question catches you off guard. Do you? Meals alone in your room weren't terrible, but you wouldn't mind eating at the counter. At least you interpreted that's what Kafka wanted. You took yourself and your plate to the waterfall counter. You pause, pondering where to sit out of the four five chairs. Blade's food is still unfinished, not even half the plate was gone yet. How was he not done? Then again, perhaps he was taking his time, savoring his own food, unlike you who practically inhaled your first helping.

Blade had his plate at the far left chair, you set your plate in the middle seat. You'd have gone to the complete opposite end on the right, but there was an urge not to. A part of you— felt bad at the initial thought. He soon returns to his own seat and resumes eating, you soon follow, digging into your own food. There's an odd but serene ambience that fills the space between you both along with the light clinking of silverware and soft sounds of chewing.

After a couple of minutes, the sound of a book shutting catches both Blade's and your own attention. In a synchronized motion, you turn your heads to see her walk up to you both. She pats Blade head, it's almost comical how his big and intimidating self just— accepts it. Kafka is his owner, but seeing him be pet like the normal cat that he is begins to stir something in you. An urge to touch him too. Kafka's hand then transfers to your head, the sensation of tender scratches makes you purr just a bit. Now it's just the two of you.

In the corner of your eye, you peak at Blade. He's eating, not even half as bothered as you. In fact, when he notices you're not eating, he stops to stare at you. His eyes are narrowed at you, it can only be described as a questioning look. Considering you had come out of your room for more food, he has every right to look at you the way he is. It's as if he's questioning you.

Your ears flatten as your tail anxiously wafts behind you. His gaze pricks at you, always feeling like a confrontation. Your spoon scoops up to rice and tender meat before hauling it into your mouth. Slowly you begin to chew, and thankfully he backs off, steering his attention back to his own plate.

The two of you eat together, the atmosphere is surprisingly cordial enough as you stay nestled in your seat. Progressively, your scoops get faster, urging yourself to finish your meal soon in order to escape back to your room.

The food on your plate swiftly vanishes, but you don't have the will to lick it clean once more. Your stomach is now more than satisfied. With your dirty plate in hand, you slip out of your seat silently, red eyes only lingering on you for a split second. You carefully set your plate and utensils down in the sink, as if the slightest clink of dishes would aggravate Blade. You noted there were some dishes already cleaned off, drying in a dish rack. Kafka's most likely. Does he wait for her to finish eating before he even plates his food?

You couldn't imagine waiting for Silver Wolf to finish eating before you even started eating. Sometimes she'd let her food get cold, claiming she needed to finish something in a game for just a minute.

You huff at the amusing thought before slinking off back down the hall, leaving Blade in the kitchen to finish his meal, alone. Well, you weren't gonna sit and watch him eat.

Five minutes goes by while you're in your room, and you begin to get a little parched. Water, you need some now, so you leave your room once more. This time less skittish, maybe even an ounce of confidence was bestowed upon you.

So you quietly track back to the kitchen, you don't see Blade at his seat eating anymore so you turn to check the sink. You feel the fur on your back stand on end as your eyes catch sight of Blade— his tongue was flattened against your plate, licking the residue you had left. Something hot and lecherous shoots into your loins as your legs freeze in place, your tail squishing as your legs flicker.

Your breath only gets thicker when his eyes land on you, and without breaking from your gaze for a second, he continues. And he doesn't cease until it looks completely clean. Then he turns away as if nothing happened, placing your plate in the sink before the sound of water running reaches your ears. Finally a shaky, deep exhale slips out of you before you turn back to go to your room, with your throat still dry and your lips moist.

Midnight again, and you're wide awake, mind aflutter with that scene repeating in your head, and the way Blade's tongue moved, oh if only... You stare wide eyed at the ceiling. Sleep far from reaching you. Then a knock drags you from your thoughts. You nearly fall from your bed as you get up, fumbling to get to the door. The heavy pants already lure your ears through the door, and that fragrance— you're certain it's him.

Once you let the door open by a sliver, Blade wastes no time pushing it open. He swiftly lunges at you, only pinning you down against the floor— for now. His scent binds your mind as yours does his, perhaps clouding both your judgement as his breath tickles the skin on your face, his claws desperate as they tear the fabric of your shirt, you hope Kafka doesn't get upset with you for it.

That hardly grabs your focus for a second before a mewl is drawn from you with a harsh bite into your shoulder, and a hand that slides down your stomach, nails inches away from the hem of your pants.

A/n: if I beat that pussy up is you gon tell on me~♪ "ALL THAT FOR NO DICK?" yeah😔

[tra1nchi]

I just had this thought

So like a yandere who’s in love with another and your one of their victims for getting to close to their darling so when they are about to kill your able to somehow able to convince them not to like a i don’t kill you you get me info to help me get me set up with darling cause your one of their close friends

So blah blah you spend more time with yandere and they slowly start to fall for reader and becomes possessive meanwhile reader is scared shitless cause their wondering what in the world is going on

Anyways really bad explanation but i just had to get it out somehow 😥

I went a bit overboard with this one,,MINORS DNI!! Bttm male reader,,this might be my longest fic on this blog lol,, Toxic ass dude,, stalking,,masturbation,,attempted murder,,N0n-c0n

When you first met him,,he was just that weird kid that always tried to talk to your friend,,never paying attention to any of the rest of his darlings friend group and Claude would only ever talk to him,,

He had noticed you,,definitely,,you were a high priority on his list,,you were handsome (not as much as his darling) but most importantly,,you were in his way,,His darling wouldn't talk to him whenever you were around,,Claude wasn't one for sharing

He would dream each night of his darlings touches,,how his darling would whisper in his ear at how grateful he was for the deaths of his friends,,they were only distractions for what was truly the only important thing,,their love

Waking up the next day alone in his bed was whiplash for Claude,,his bed was cold and so was his house,,he knew the only thing that could fill it with warmth was his one and only darling,,

College,,He only went because his father forced him to,,but despite his hatred for the man,,he couldn't help but feel grateful,,how else would he have met the love of his life? But he couldn't think about that today,,today was doomsday,,

He decided to pick you first,,you were growing into a bigger threat when he saw your hands on his darling,,he had to hold himself back from cutting off your hand right there on the spot,,even during class,,

He waited until it was dark,,he had been tracking you for a few days and knew you liked to feed the local alley cats after sunset so you wouldn't get caught by anyone,,Claude only thought that it was embarrassing for you,,who has that low of confidence?

Claude noticed you with a cruel smile,, a shiny butcher knife in his hand as he crept silently behind you,,though he stopped as he noticed what you were doing,,you were hunched out with a skittish looking kitten at your hands,,he could hear your small and quiet coos when it grew closer,,

He couldn't get distracted! This was for his darling,,his love,,he jumped slightly when you turned suddenly,,you both didn't know how to react as the kitten fled,,his instincts set in as he tackled you to the ground,,his weapon pressed against your neck,,

"Think you can get so loving with my darling? You are nothing compared to what we have!" He was close to yelling,,but kept his voice down,,his blade digging into your neck but he stooped when he felt his hand get damp,,

Glancing up he saw tears pouring down your cheeks,,you were sobbing and trembling underneath him,,you looked like a scared little bunny as you started desperately begging for your life,,He felt conflicted,, are killers meant to feel sympathy for their victims?

You managed to squrim out of his hold when he froze up,,holding your hands out in a protective manner as you started to try to reason with Claude,, anything to keep your life from ending,,

Claude listened to your begging,,his hand tight on the handle of the knife,, "you can get me closer to him? You better not be lying to me." His voice was harsh as he trusted the knife towards your neck again,,

When you rapidly nodded,,he gave in,,allowing you to keep your life at the exchange you bringing him closer to his precious darling,,

He felt himself growing closer to your side,,watching how you would talk about his love,,he would catch his eyes falling down to your lips as you talk but would quickly glance away,,he felt like he was cheating even if he wasn't even dating his lover yet,,

Despite your rough first meeting,,you grew closer with him,,noticing that above his weird obsession with your friend,,he wasn't all that bad,,though you didn't want to grow any closer with him then you were now,,you wouldn't want to risk it,,

Claude over time stopped thinking about him,,his dreams were replaced with you,,waking up with in a cold sweat after a particularly lewd dream,,when did he start thinking off you,,his little bunny in that kind of way?

The more he hung out with you,,the more he realised how bland your friend was compared to you,,you were so much better then he could ever be,,he started to unknowingly treat you the same way he did to your friend,,

Trying to isolate you,,talking over your friends whenever you tried to communicate with them and especially taking up stalking,,he already knew most of your routes from when he wanted to kill you,,but now he stalks you just to make sure youvget home safely at night,,

You were scared shitless of course,,you knew how he acted with your friend and now he started acting that way with you,,luckily he hasn't started staking you,,that would be the worse case scenario,,right?

he would get more daring with his little bunny,,sneaking into his darlings precious room at night to watch you sleep,,he would shuffle through your drawers taking out shirts,,socks and if he felt especially excited,,he would swipe a pair of underwear or two,,

He would lose sleep for what he was doing,,not out of guilt but he couldn't stop himself,,jerking your clothing up and down his cock,,wishing it was you,,craving for your touch and not the clothing that felt so rough,,

One night when he tried to return your cum filled boxers,,he would step on a creaky floorboard he would always avoid,,waking you up almost immediately,,your eyes wide with fear,,just like a prey animal

He tackled out back down onto your bed,,his hand covering your mouth roughly to keep your scream muffled,,"Shh, don't cry. It's only me, go back to sleep yeah?" He puts on his most soothing tone but you don't seem to be sleeping,,

He shoved your dirty underwear into your mouth to keep you quiet,,you could feel his hard-on press against your leg,,He let out a soft moan at being so close to you

"Oh my darling, my sweet precious love..I'll just be a second, okay? I'll be so gentle.." He groans softly in your ear,,his hand moving down to yank your pajamas,,he seemed pleasantly pleased when you didn't squirm,,you knew better,,

He started kissing your tummy,,down to your cock,,his hands moving down to his fly to free his own,, "Good boy! Just stay nice and still like that." He smirks moving down to spread your legs and with only using his pre cum as lube,,he shoves himself roughly inside of you,,

You were his darling from now until the day you die

[miniwheat77]

You belong to me. (Ghost x Reader.)

!reader is a Virgin, virginity loss, p in v sex, unprotected sex, Ghost is a little possessive, this is age gap smut and you’ve been warned. Ghost is like 40 in this. Absolutely NO minors!

This is not edited so sorry for any mistakes

He doesn’t know what did it.

He doesn’t know which part of you started this… obsession.

Maybe it was your smile. Or your personality. How lively you were for being in the military. It was a cruel job and you still managed to be so happy.

Maybe it was just that you were not his normal type in women. A young virgin. Who despite being exposed to some of the toughest situations out there was still so innocent.

But something caused it, made him have that one dream. He was tucked away in his bed, sound asleep. He seen your face as he fell into a deeper sleep. You were laughing and smiling. Turning to him to acknowledge him as he walked into a room. Greeted him with a kiss.

Ghost woke in a hurry, where on earth it had come from. He doesn’t know. He had never had these feelings for you before this. They came out of nowhere. And it started fast. Like he got sucked into a black hole and could no longer figure a way out. He was gone- done for. Every second he spent around you after that, he dreaded. Because Ghost didn’t do this. He didn’t have feelings for people. But your smile. Your laugh and how it could pierce his ears from what felt like miles away. How when you spoke to him, like you were talking to a friend made his brain foggy as he watched your lips move. Lost in a daze. Most of the time you had to repeat yourself because he was so spaced out he heard none of it.

He knew he was in too deep when he started looking into you.

Finding all of your social media accounts. Coming across every single post you’d ever been featured or tagged in. He knew who your parents and grandparents were and how close you were with some. He even snuck into Price’s office once and stole any file that contained you. He knew everything there was to know about you, down to your shower routine at night.

Ghost knows he’s got to be sick for how obsessed he’d become but he just couldn’t help himself.

When he came to the conclusion that you must be a virgin, he was by your side always.

If anyone else found out that you were a virgin- it would be bad. Especially some of the men who they called enemies. They were cruel and dangerous to women. During any missions at all, Ghost was right with you.

When it started, you didn’t understand it. Why he was all over you all of a sudden but you didn’t mind. You liked Simon. If he wanted to be friends, that’s okay. You didn’t mind. It wasn’t until he was killing for you that he knew he had a problem.

When an enemy had put their hands on you, he was merciless. He could be brutal, violent. But never to you. Not ever. It ate him alive that he liked you so much and he couldn’t have you. You weren’t his. You didn’t have to listen to him, you didn’t have to consider what he said. You had no ties to him whatsoever and it drove him mad. Ghost was bothered deeply by his infatuation with you. You would never go for someone like him, not when he’s old enough to be your dad. Some nights, when it’s especially cold. He can barely stand it. He wants you close to him, by his side at all times. He wants you. He wants it all.

“Alright. let’s have a chat, shall we?” Captain Price’s voice snags Ghost out of his thoughts.

He’s sitting off to one side of the large oak table sat in the middle of the conference room. Everyone else is inside as well. You’re next to him because he chose to sit down next to you. “Obviously, we’re going to go on a break for a few weeks, I wanted you all home for a while to relax before we started up on these next few missions. If you didn’t want to go, I can still find you guys something to do on base. There will still be other commanding officers and some other new recruits keeping it up and running. If you wanted to stay on base I need to know by tomorrow.”

Ghost will always respect Price. Always.

“I’d like to stay on base, Captain.”

Ghost respected him, and right now he almost wanted to give the old man a kiss once you’ve spoken up.

“Okay, Y/N. Anyone else?”

“Me, always.” Ghost mumbles. “Right, obviously.” Captain Price nudges him. “Workaholic.” Price mumbles, making Simon smile underneath his balaclava.

Ghost doesn’t hear another word of the meeting. You don’t say anything else and that’s all he wanted to hear. Although he wondered why you were choosing to stay on base when you had a family.

Once the day came when everyone else left, Ghost was going to miss them. He always did during breaks. Especially on the few he’s been left alone. He missed Price’s lectures. Soaps banter, Gaz’s pranks. He missed them all, they were the only family he had of course. But he didn’t mind this time, not since you’d be around. You keep him company until they came back, if you liked it or not. Ghost was getting soft as he got older, he knew it. But he couldn’t stop it. He didn’t really want to anymore. He liked to be close with people even if he knew it would kill him if he lost any of them.

It takes a few days before Ghost finishes up what he usually does. Cleaning up his room, getting rid of some things. He likes to reset completely when he has the time. When he’s done, he finally decides to seek you out.

It seems as if you’re doing the same, your door is propped open and he walks right inside. “Hey.” You’re reaching for a book on a bookshelf. “Oh, hey Ghost.” You smile at him. You turn back to the bookshelf, turning back to him in a hurry. The book topples over onto you and you step away as the rest follow suit. He can’t help but laugh. “You’re.. not wearing a mask.” You blush. “No, I’m not.” He laughs. “You need help?”

“No I just didn’t expect you to come in here with your face out like that!” You laugh, picking up the books and setting them on your bed. “I mean.. I can put it back on.” He laughs. “No! No- I just. You caught me off guard that’s all.” You blush, avoiding his gaze as you stumble over his words. “You can’t walk in here practically naked, I mean you’re showing so much skin.” You joke. You can actually see his lips turn up in a smile and it makes your chest ache just how handsome he is. “Yeah, I know it’s a lot of handsome to just throw around like this.” He smirks, hearing you laugh. He loves it.

If he could only hear that for the rest of his life, he’d never complain again.

You roll your eyes.

“I see we had the same idea, bit of a reset.”

“Yeah, I just wanted it to all be set up and clean for when we go back out. Swear I’m still cleaning up sand from our trip to Iran.” You laugh. “Oh god me too.” Simon laughs. He sits down on the edge of your bed, watching you as you replace the books. He offers you help of course but you deny it. “I was wondering why you chose to stay, I thought you had mentioned visiting your parents?” Ghost doesn’t miss the way you stiffen.

“Uh.. well.” You turn to him. “It’s.. kind’ve… personal I guess.” You mumble. “Oh, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He looks up at you. “It’s just this.. family friend we have.” You start, looking at the cover of the book in your hands. “He’s been my dad’s friend since I was in my early teens.” Ghosts hair stands up, worried at where you’re going with this. You sit down at the small desk you have in your room. “He always acted really weird when I was around and when I was home last… he tried.” You pause. “He tried making a pass at me, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. It turned into this whole thing. My dad got involved and him and my mum didn’t believe me. They believed him. So yeah, they planned this big party for me to come back. But I found out they invited him so I lied and said I was stuck here. But.. I think you needed some company anyways.” You smile. You’re trying to make light of what you’ve just told him.

“I’m sorry to hear that. He didn’t touch you did he?”

Ghost knows he’ll track him down. Torture him for laying a finger on you.

“He tried.”

Ghost nods. “He left with a bloody nose.” You laugh. “You know, if he ever does anything to you. This entire base will have his head on a pike.” He looks up at you. The way he looks at you has chills rising on your body. He’s deadly serious. You smile. “I appreciate it, but I don’t plan on going back. Not when they sided with him so easily.” You laugh. “Ah, you get to missing them too much, just take me with you. I’ll be your body guard.” He laughs. Inside, Ghost is seething. How dare he. How dare he try to hurt you.

“I appreciate it, but I’m not putting you through that. They’re hard to get along with. Besides that if I brought him a guy twice my age I’d probably give my dad a heart attack.” Ghost laughs at this. “What the man doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?” He winks, seeing the pink rise to your cheeks has you turning away from him.

“You’re funny.” You giggle.

———

For the next couple of weeks, you spend nearly every second of every day with Ghost. He helps you with your chores, you help him with his. You get done faster and get to spend even more time doing practically nothing together. You aid on a couple of spare missions, he shows you a little bit of mechanic work, he even rents a rental car in the town you’re in so that he could show you around. It’s by far some of the most fun you’ve ever had and you like being so close to Ghost. But there’s been something nagging at you in the back of your mind.

And that’s your growing feelings for him.

Your parents have nonstop harassed you to come home, even if it’s for a couple days. You ended up folding but the thought of leaving Ghost here alone drives you crazy. You never thought you’d be so close to the Lieutenant.

You’re sitting at the edge of your bed when he knocks at your door. Right about now, the two of you would be going down to have dinner. But this time, he shows up with trays in his hands. You smile as you open the door. “Mess hall is full, thought I’d bring you something before there’s nothing left.” He laughs. “Thanks Ghost.” You smile. “Is something going on?” He asks.

“Ah… I just.. thought I’d ask you something.” You say nervously. “What’s up?” He asks. “Well.. my parents have been nagging me to go home.” You sigh. He nods his head, sitting down at your desk. “And.. I told them I’d go home for just a couple days, no longer than a week.” You shrug. He nods his head. “Yeah? Are you going to be okay?”

“See that’s the thing. I.. was wondering.” You laugh. “If you’d go as like.. my.. I don’t know.” You pause. “Pretend boyfriend?” You laugh. He turns to you. “Yeah, no problem.” He looks up at you. “Wait really?” You ask.

“Course, not like I got anything better to do. Besides, if that bastard puts his hands on you it gives me an excuse to hurt him.” He shrugs. You laugh. “Hey. I really appreciate it. You have no idea.” You breathe out a sigh of relief. “My dad is probably going to give you a lot of grief for how old you are though.” Ghost laughs. “Love, I’m in the military. I’ll be just fine.” You smile. Thank god.

———

You sigh, which makes Ghost turn his head to you. “What’s going on?” He asks. He’s pulling into the driveway. “That’s.. his car.” You sigh. “Hey.” He places his hand on your thigh to reassure you. “He’s not going to do anything. I swear I won’t leave your side.” You smile. “Thank you Ghost.”

Captain Price was surprised to hear that the two of you had left together, but after speaking to Simon in private he understood why. Simon felt a little bad for spilling your business but he was your Captain after all. You still had another few weeks before you were due back anyways, you had time to kill. Ghost helps you unload your bags. Carrying them up to the front door with you. Once you reach the door, your mum opens it up.

She’s shocked to see that you aren’t alone.

“Hi Y/N!” She smiles. Bringing you into a hug. “Hey.” You mumble. “Who is your friend?” She asks. “Oh uh.. this is Simon.” You nod. Simon reached his hand out. You can tell your mum is slightly intimidated by the sheer size of him. She takes his hand anyways.

“My boyfriend.”

Your mums eyes nearly bulge out of her head when those words leave your lips but she smiles nonetheless. “It’s nice to meet you, Simon.” She stands to the side. Allowing the both of you inside. “Your dad and Mike are in the back.” She smiles. Ghost can see you go stiff.

So his name is Mike.

“Simon I can show you Y/N’s room. So that you can go see your dad.” She turns to you. “That’s alright, Y/N said she wanted to show me her old room.” He smiles, rejecting her offer. You mentally thanked him. “Oh alright than. Well. I’m just finishing up dinner.” She smiles. “You know where to find us.”

You nod your head, leading Simon up to your old bedroom. “You are literally a life saver Simon.” You mumble the moment the door is closed. He laughs. “So.. am I staying in here with you. They got any strict rules?” He laughs. “No weird rules but there’s only one bed.” You blush. “That’s alright. Just don’t be a blanket hog.” He nudges you. “Let’s go meet Mike.” He grasps your wrist, tugging you along. You groan out. “I know you wanna bite his head off Simon but you can’t.”

“Says who?”

You can’t help but laugh. “Definitely not me.” You mumble. You lead Simon out to the back door to the back yard where everyone now sits. He opens up the door for you, your mum notices how kind he is to you immediately. She didn’t say anything to your dad yet, unsure of how this would go. It’s quiet the moment the both of you move closer. “Uh.. hey honey.” your dad smiles. He’s skeptical. “Who’s this?” He stands up. Ghost sees the man that’s made you uncomfortable. Staring him down from the moment they lock eyes. Only looking away to shake your dad’s hand. “I’m Simon.” He smiles.

“My boyfriend.” You finish for him. Your dad nods. “Nice to meet you Simon. You seem a little old.”

“Ah, to be honest I thought Y/N was older, she’s pretty mature for her age.” He nods. “Yeah, that’s true. She’s a good girl. Smart too.”

“Absolutely.” Simon agrees. Simon can see that Mike is uncomfortable upon hearing that you’ve got a boyfriend. It only makes Simon want to tear him to shreds even more. “Oh uh. Simon. This is Mike, he’s a family friend.”

Simon is sure to grip his hand extra hard as he shakes it. Towering over him. He wants him to feel small.

“Let’s sit for dinner yeah?” Your mum breaks the awkward silence.

It was nice enough outside to be able to sit outside to eat. Everyone keeps asking about Simon. How the two of you met and how you came to be. Simon made up something cute on the spot and you couldn’t deny the butterflies it gave you. Simon is a great man, and it sucks that you have to fake this.

“Hey Y/N. You mind helping me get some stuff out of my car?” Mike speaks up.

“Nonsense, no reason she should do it when I’m around. I’ll help you.” Simon Stands up from the bench. Mike stiffens up. It’s clear that there he had an ulterior motive. He’ll most likely have to come up with something in the spot. Simon expects him to say “oh I forgot.”

He leads Simon to his trunk.

Simon quickly notices that it’s empty. “Oh shoot. Maybe I forgot to put it in here after all.” Simon lets out a laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure it’s not that you wanted to get Y/N alone so you could be a fucking creep toward her some more.”

“Excuse me?”

Simon grasps hold of the man, slamming into the back of the car. His hands gripping his lapels.

“She told me about you. And I’m not gonna let her be alone around you because you’re a fucking freak. If you even so much as look at her wrong I’ll bury you. And nobody will ever know where to find you. Do I make myself clear?”

Mike nods his head eagerly. “Yes I understand.” He flinches. “Great. Don’t come around again while she’s here. If I see your face again we’re going to have a problem. And if you tell her dad about this conversation we had, I’ll be sure to make the bullshit worth my while. Now go back in there and let them know you’ve forgotten about something and that you have to go.” He nods his head, and finally Simon lets him go. They both walk back into the house and Simon returns to his spot next to you. “I must’ve forgotten it at home, but my boss called me and asked me to come in for some last minute questions, so unfortunately I’ll have to get going.”

He looks pale. You know immediately something has happened. “Aw, sorry to hear that Mike. You have a good day alright?” Your mum smiles. Simon wants to scowl at her but knows he can’t.

It’s getting late. Both you and Simon are tired from the time zones and your parents are going to go play Bingo, Mike invited them out.

Unusual when you were home. Simon must’ve really scared him. “You two get some rest, we’ll be home later tonight.” Your mum smiles. Once they’ve left, the weight leaves your shoulders. “Fuck me, thank god.” You laugh. You start up the stairs and Simon follows you. “What did you say to him?”

“What are you talking about?” He asks. “Mike looked like he’d seen a damn ghost, you know exactly what I’m talking about. What’d you do to him?”

“Me? Say something to Mike? No way.” He smirks. He stretches back and his jacket raises and you can see his toned stomach, you have to turn away. Swallowing hard. “Liar.”

“I’m the Ghost he seen, darling. But you don’t have to worry about him anymore. Alright?” He forces you to look at him. Nodding your head. “Thank you Simon.”

“Nothing to it sweetheart.” He laughs. “Your parents probably think you’re going through a crisis. Did you see the way they looked at me all day?”

“Yeah. It’s just because you’re older.” You giggle, laying down on the bed. Simon throws himself down beside you. “First guy I’ve ever brought home and you’re almost as old as my dad.” You laugh. You freeze up as the words leave your mouth. “I- I mean-“

“No worries, your secret is safe with me.” He turns to look at you. “What?”

Simon chuckles. “I know that you’re a virgin Y/N.” You can feel your blood run cold. “What? How do you know that?”

Ghost laughs. “I can just tell.” You look down, blushing.

“Hey. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He rolls onto his side, resting on his hand. “It’s actually kind’ve impressive. As pretty as you are I’m surprised nobody has scooped you up and married you yet.” He laughs.

“You think I’m pretty?” You look up at him.

He laughs. “Of course I do. What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.. I guess I just never thought that much into it. I didn’t think I was that pretty.”

“So clearly you’ve never looked to a mirror.” He rolls his eyes. “Tough talk coming from you. I had no idea how handsome you were until you surprised me without a mask on.” You roll your eyes. “Oh? Handsome? Don’t let your panties get too wet.” he winks. Crimson creeps up your cheeks and you shake your head at him. “Shut up. You’re so full of yourself.” You roll your eyes. He laughs. “I’m kidding.”

Once the conversation has died down, you’ve nuzzled closer to him unintentionally.

“Y/N.” He speaks up out of the blue.

“Yeah?” You look at him. “There’s a way to make this easier yknow.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean.. we’re faking it. Right?”

“Yeah?”

“What if we didn’t?”

You sit up, looking at him in confusion. The way your hair falls perfectly as you look at him, so beautiful when you’re confused. “I don’t think I understand.” You laugh. “What if we didn’t fake it?”

“Are.. are you saying that-“

“I want you to be my girlfriend.”

You didn’t understand metaphors in person until those words left his lips and the earth stopped spinning. It feels like your blood freezes over in your veins. “I-“ you freeze up. He sits up. Taking your hand in his. “I know I’m throwing a lot at you right now. But I’ve felt this way about you for some time. I mean you had to have noticed me coming around you more right?”

“I.. I guess so. I just thought it was because… well I don’t know.” You blush, looking down. “I know a little bit more about you than I should.. and I know it’s wrong of me. You’re so young and I can’t ask you to give up your life for me.” He breathes. “How?”

“I did a little snooping. Through your social media. And.. your file.”

“My file? Like the one in our Captain’s office?”

He shrugs.

Heat pools between your legs, you’ve never been so attracted to anyone in your entire life. “You.. stole files to get to know me?” You look up at him. “Well when you put it that way it sounds like I’m a creep.”

“You are a creep. If you wanted to know you could’ve asked me.” You smirk. You’re clearly poking fun at him. “Yeah, doesn’t take a genius to see how perfectly innocent you are. You n your perfect unfucked pussy.”

Your mouth drops open and you shove him back. “I’m kidding- I’m kidding.” He laughs. “Watch your mouth, Riley. I might be a girl but I’ll still kick your ass.”

“I believe it. I’ll be on my best behavior.” He laughs.

“So what do you say?”

“You really want me to be your girlfriend?” You ask. He nods. “You’re not just saying that?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not going to have sex with me and than dump me are you?”

He looks stunned by your question. “I might be an asshole but jeez. Have some faith in me.” He mumbles.

“Fine.” You laugh. “Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“Good, god I’ve been waiting for this.” He sits up, pressing his lips to yours immediately.

He pulls you back beside him, his lips not moving from yours until he feels he’s had enough. He pulls you closer into his side, tugging the blanket up over the both of you.

Simon almost never sleeps well. He spends most of his time awake, seeing nothing but darkness. But with the bedside lamp on, he can see you clearly. And he thinks you’re even more beautiful asleep.

He knows how stressful this has been for you. You never stopped tapping your foot once you left the airport. You never noticed him making an attempt to soothe you. Holding it still so that you would relax a little more. You briefly feel his fingertips gliding through your hair. You’re peaceful when you’re asleep. Nothing bad. You’re safe here, so long as Simon is around.

He only hopes you’ll want him around forever.

———

“Honey… is everything okay?” Your mum asks. Simon is still asleep, it’s early. You’re sitting down across from her at your table.

“What? Why?”

“Because.. Simon is so much older than you honey. You.. you don’t really expect this to go anywhere do you?”

You pause, looking up at her. “Excuse me?” You cross your arms. “Y/N… I’m not trying to be mean okay. It’s just.. men like Simon don’t want a relationship. They just want-“

You raise your hand up, stopping her.

“Don’t you dare categorize Simon.”

She sighs. “Y/N. You know that’s not what I mean. I just mean that men like Simon only have one thing on their mind.”

“Yeah? And that is?”

“You know exactly what I mean Y/N.”

“Sex? You think he’s only with me for sex?”

“Y/N… lower your voice.” She seethes.

“Yeah well if he only wanted me for sex he’d be long gone by now.” Her eyes widen.

“You’ve already slept with him? How long have you been together?”

“Couple weeks.” You shrug. She shakes her head. “I thought we raised you better than this.” You freeze, looking up at her and laughing. “I don’t even want to hear any of that considering you wouldn’t even side with your own daughter after Mike made a pass at me.”

“Not this again Y/N.”

“Yeah, not anymore. Because if he touches me again Simon is going to break his hand.”

She shakes her head. “What has gotten into you?”

“I’m not a kid anymore. I can make my own decisions. I mean for christ’s sake, I kill people for a living.” You scoff. “And for the record. Simon isn’t like other guys. I’ve watched him kill people for trying to hurt me.” You laugh, standing up. “I think we’ll probably be heading out first thing in the morning, this was clearly a mistake.” You make your way upstairs. “Maybe we won’t be here when you change your mind, when he hurts you.”

“You wouldn’t be there anyways.” You roll your eyes. You hear her leave through the front door. Her car starting.

You make your way upstairs. Simon sitting at the edge of the bed. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Did you hear that?”

Simon nods his head. “I’m sorry Y/N.” He breathes. “Mike is a fucking creep and they’re fucked up for not believing you.”

“What? No. That’s- no.” You laugh. “I could care less about them believing me about Mike. It’s her shit talking you that drives me crazy. You’ve always been good to me and that’s wrong of her to say.”

Simon laughs. “I don’t exactly have the best rep Y/N. You should’ve known that before you started dating me.”

You turn to look at him, and the look in your eyes has his smile fading. “I… I’m sorry.” He scratches the back of his head nervously.

“Don’t be.” You mumble the words under your breath. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to offend you-“ you start toward him, kissing him hard. You push him back into the bed. “Woah- Y/N.” He pushes you up. “What are you doing?” He breathes. A gasp leaving his lips when you climb on top of him to straddle him. “Shit.” He grits his teeth. “Hey- listen. You aren’t thinking straight.” You look up at him, eyes dripping lust. “I’m thinking just fine.”

He grits his teeth as you rock your hips down into him. He quickly flips you over. “Y/N. You’re not ready for this.”

“Simon.” You’re breathless as you look up at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for this, to be honest.”

He stares down at you. God he wants this, of course he does. But he doesn’t want to take advantage of you. That’s not him. He lowers himself down again, locking his lips with yours. Your heart is thumping in your chest and he can hear it. “Is this really where you want to do this?” He pulls away. You look around. Biting back a smirk. “I’ll take that as a yeah.” He shakes his head, standing up. The door doesn’t have a lock, so he puts a chair up in front of it. When he turns back you’ve already shed your shirt, and you’re working on your pants. He’s still wearing sweatpants.

“I don’t have anything..” he sighs. “It’s okay.” You nod.

He pushes you back, moving himself between your legs. “You trust me?” He asks. You nod your head. Looking up at him. “M’gonna try not to hurt you.” He breathes. “I want you to know that I’d never take advantage of you. If you don’t like anything at all, you tell me.” He presses his forehead to yours. “I know.”

He slides down the soft pajama pants you’ve got on. He tried so hard not to smother you the night before. He wants it all with you but knows not to move too fast, he doesn’t want to scare you off. He kisses you, moving lower down your body. Scattering kisses over your soft skin. Hearing you whine out as he moves down your chest. Over your stomach and onto your thighs. You lift your head, looking him in the eyes as he glides his tongue through your folds for the first time. The first time you’ve ever been touched by a man. Your eyes grow heavy, and you gasp. He sucks at your clit and watches you squirm as he tongues your clit. You try to clamp your thighs shut but he forces them open. Wanting you to get used to him touching you, relax you a little bit. He’s going to need you relaxed for when he enters you for the first time. He keeps it up for a few minutes until your thighs are shivering. You’re right on the edge but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you.

Pulling away just as he’s got you to the edge. Hearing you whine out.

You’re already sweaty and your legs are jello.

“Relax. You’re ready for me sweetheart.” He moves himself between your legs, kissing back up your stomach and chest. “You are so beautiful like this. So beautiful.” He shakes his head. “I’m gonna fuck you now. Do you think you can handle it?” He asks. “Yes.” You answer fast. He pushes his sweats down to his mid thigh.

Just then, you hear the door close downstairs. “Shh. It’s alright.” He spits in his hand, gliding it over his cock. Slicking himself up as much as he can. Not wanting to hurt you any more than he has to. He holds your thighs open. Lining himself up with your entrance. He starts to slip between the folds of your pussy, your mouth popping open. He knows you’re about to cry out, clamping a hand over your mouth and burying himself the rest of the way inside of you. Sealing the deal.

This isn’t just casual anymore. You’re his now.

He lowers himself down. Still halted.

“You belong to me.”

You cry into his hand but he muffles it. He slides himself out of you and rocks his hips back into you. Feeling the wetness of your tears on his hand. “My god you are tight.” He breathes. Clenching his eyes shut. He rocks into you at a steady pace. A knock at the door has you going stiff and he rests his hand on your stomach. The other around your mouth still. He draws his hand away from your stomach, pressing his index finger over his lips. Shushing you.

“Y/N. We need to talk.”

It’s your dad.

Simon slowly draws his hand away from your mouth. Making sure you’ll be quiet. But he doesn’t stop his thrusts.

“Okay- I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Mike is here.”

Simon grits his teeth, shaking his head. “I said I’ll be down in a minute.”

Your dad sighs at the other end of the door. His footsteps disappearing down the stairs.

“Focus on me. M’gonna make you feel good baby.” He breathes.

He adjusts himself to be angled just right. Holding you still as he starts to rock himself into that one spot. Your mouth falls open the first time he brushes up against it. That spongy spot that’s so sensitive. “Cover your mouth darling. S’alright. Just relax.” He’s whispering. His voice so low you can barely hear it. You clamp your own hand on your mouth as he holds your hips steady, rocking into you. You’re barely keeping it together and that’s what he wants. He wants you to fall apart. He wants you on him. Clamping down around him. He wants to draw you in closer. You’re his and he wants to show you that. He holds you steady, keeping the same pace. He wants to be more rough but knows you aren’t quite ready for that. He moves your hand away from your mouth to kiss you. His lips move against yours sloppily and you notice his thrusts are a little sloppy as well. He’s getting close, but so are you. The unfamiliar feelings of a knot builds in your lower belly.

His teeth latch onto your bottom lip. Pulling it between his teeth and sucking at it. Your whines egg him on. Pulling him into you. He’s addicted.

“Simon… I’m really close.” You whine. Your voice is low and he knows nobody can hear you. Thank god, they don’t deserve to hear such angelic noises. You’re good. You’re the perfect amount of good Simon needs in his dark life. You make him better. His cock throbs hard inside of you. He grits his teeth. “It’s okay, you don’t have to be so gentle with me. I can take it.” You breathe, looking up at him. He laughs. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into baby.”

“I think I do.”

Simon lifts you up, laying you down on the floor, if they’re downstairs, they’ll hear the bed creaking. He pushes your legs up, and starts his bruising pace. Fucking into you like it’ll be the last time. Your eyes widen, but he clamps a hand over your mouth. “You wanted this. You can take it.” He growls. Your eyes roll back and you fall apart. Throbbing around him as you reach your high. You’re clamping down around him tightly and he can barely keep himself together. Of all of the people you thought you might lost your virginity to, Ghost was never one of them.

He takes one last hard thrust, jawline clenching up as he grits his teeth. His eyes screw shut and you realize that’s he’s just finished inside of you. Your eyes widen as you feel his warmth filling you.

He relaxes himself into you.

“Fuck- m’sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking I just couldn’t stop myself.” He breathes. “It’s okay.” You look up at him. You’re mesmerized by him.

He laughs, letting his head hang. “You can’t look at me like that. I won’t let you walk away.” He laughs.

You let your head rest against the floor. “You have to go with me.”

“I wouldn’t let you go down there alone. Not with that prick down there.” Simon growls. Sliding out of you. You gasp out as he does.

You redress yourselves, Simon letting you borrow one of his hoodies. A way to assert dominance, but you didn’t need to know that.

You make your way downstairs and he follows close behind. “What’s going on?” You ask.

“Mike wanted to apologize.”

Simon grips your hand in his. Pulling you closer. “What?”

“I shouldn’t have done what I did and I’m sorry Y/N.” You swallow hard. Your mum and dad look guilty. “We have to apologize too. For not believing you.” Your dad speaks up. “I don’t forgive you. Not any of you.” You breathe. “We’re heading out first thing in the morning and I won’t be back until I’m ready to.”

You pull Simon along, out the front door.

“How about I show you around? Where I grew up.” He smiles. “Course.” He smiles. Following you down the drive of your parents’ house. “You’ll have to show me where you grew up sometime.” You smile. “Yeah, of course. I’d love to darling.” He laughs. “You’re a strong girl you know that?” He opens up the car door for you. “I don’t know.”

“M’serious. You’re brave and strong. They don’t deserve a girl like you.”

You smile.

“So what does that tell you?” You ask. He moves closer. “I don’t know.” His lips ghost over yours.

“Don’t fuck it up, Riley.”

[asce-of-hearts]

From your prompt list

Can you do 

💓 I will carve your name into my skin.

With maybe

🌟 I’d adore you in any life, any heaven, any hell...

For yandere NSFW Ace or Law with a S/O who has doubts about their love due to a bad previous relationship with another pirate

Thank you

Learn to trust

Contents: Yandere!Ace and Yandere!Law (Separate) NSFW drabble with prompt: 💓 and 🌟

more Ace content here

more Law content here

TAG LIST

PROMPT LIST

WARNINGS: SOFT YANDERE, MENTIONS OF SELF HARM IN ACE'S PART (NOT FROM READER), MENTIONS OF TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS, NSFW/SMUT, PENETRATIVE SEX, READER HAS VERY OBVIOUS ABANDONMENT ISSUES, PRAISE AND REASSURANCE.

Portgas D. Ace

Ace's hands wrap around yours as he fucks you slow and deep, his favorite position, missionary, so he can face you. So he can see every little reaction, and he can see the tears that prickle at your eyes, at how you're trying your hardest not to break down under his warm embrace.

"What's wrong, baby?" He asks, and you let out the most pathetic whimper as he bottoms out inside you. His thrusts stopping, your naked bodies connected, his raven hair sticking to his freckled skin. His golden eyes searching for your crying face, for answers.

"You're not leaving after this, right?" You ask between broken sobs, and his eyes widen. He would never dream of leaving your side, he would rather die before parting ways from you willingly. "I've given myself to you because- because I don't want you to leave me. Will you leave me, Ace?"

And he shakes his head, and his thrusts come back. Slowly, his hips rocking as he ruins your little hole. You whimper once more, and he gives you the sweetest smile, the most reassuring of glances. He takes your hand, and places it over his heart.

"Right here," He speaks, voice sultry as he continues to ravage you. "I will carve your name into my skin. I will brand myself so everyone knows how much I love you, how yours I am." His smile never falters, and you whine as your insides clench around his cock, the declaration both romantic and strangely erotic. "I will never leave you, I will never let you leave me. We will never be away from each other, I promise." He presses a soft kiss against your lips, tender in comparison to how his hips move with precision to ruin you. His arms leave your hands to wrap around you, holding you tight against him as he humps you, chasing his high.

"Trust me, sweet thing. You'll have to kill me if you want to get rid of me."

Trafalgar D. Water Law.

"Do you promise, Law?" You ask, on the verge of tears as he peppers kisses over your naked skin. And he stops on his tracks, looking at you in the eye.

"What do you want me to promise, ___?" He asks, voice flat and monotone as usual, his thumbs tracing circles around your hips. And you sniffle.

"That you won't leave," You whimper. "That you won't see me differently after... after I've given myself to you." He blinks twice, his mind coming up with an answer. He gives you the softest smile, his stubble tickling your naked stomach as he places his chin over the soft skin.

"Of course I'll see you different, silly thing," He whispers, his hands now snaking towards your nether regions, rubbing your hole as if asking for permission. You want to cry even more now, but he continues talking. "Once we're done, you won't be the ___ I know. You'll be... something more, much more. So special, so beautiful, so perfect for me," Finally, a finger manages to intrude inside you. "I will know you better than anyone else, I will know how to love you even better, how to make you addicted to me." He tries to make you relax, pressing a little over your navel. "Relax for me, I only want to make you feel good."

His fingers pump in and out at a steady pace, making you moan and writhe underneath his touch. You always knew he had long fingers and experienced hands, but he was driving you right out of your mind with every perfect spot he hit with surgical precision.

"Do you promise?" You ask in a final teary eyed whine, and he takes his fingers out, coated in slick, and shoves them in your mouth, pressing against your tongue to prevent you from speaking.

"I promise, ___." His eyes are intense. "I’d adore you in any life, any heaven, any hell... I adore you here, and I will adore you after I've made you mine."

You can't help but sniffle as you suck at his fingers, and he smiles.

"Trust me, ___. Nothing will ever make me leave your side."

hope you enjoyed this!!!!!

have a great day/night

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