#ath: writing feedbacks

[scarlettsandmaroons]

i just binge read all three chapters of your series and they’re so good like wtf

can’t wait for the next ones🥰

stop. really. i swear, receiving stuff like these after being disappointed of my work means the world to me! thank you for boosting my confidence 🥹

[kth1fics]

Safe Haven (M) | PJM

Safe Haven

⟶ Pairing: Park Jimin x Female Reader ⟶ Genre: royalty, smut, 18+ ⟶ Tropes: forbidden love au, medieval royal au, royal king’s guard werewolf!jimin ⟶ WC: 16.2k+ ⟶ Warnings: mild birth scene mention (hardly any details!), mentions of d*ath, brief fighting/attacking descriptions, blood mentions, hair pulling (when attacked), weapons mentioned, poison/venom mention, random side character d*aths, soft pining, kisses, fingering, oral (f), unprotected sex, etc ⟶ Beta: Sarah bean! @caelesjjk ⟶ Summary: When a wolf protects the royal family for many years, he’s faced with one special princess who he’ll do anything for. ⟶ Author’s Note: Apart of the “To Love a Monster” collab! I took a long while to get this fic out – and I am sorry for those who have been waiting for it. It may take me months to write and readers minutes to read, but I do hope that this fic holds a special place in someone’s heart in the end! Please enjoy & leave some feedback if you have the time! ⟶ Song Recommendation: Bound to You by Christina Aguilera

Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi 

Freshly welcomed into the King’s Guard, Jimin, a sprouting young wolf, rushes around the corridors of the castle to obey the barking orders of his higher-ups. Making haste, all servants and guards make their purpose of assisting the Queen.

“Hurry!” Hoseok, another royal guard and close friend to Jimin, shuffles through the utility room. “Gather more cloth!”

“Aren’t people usually more prepared with things like this?” Jimin frantically follows, his voice rushed with the fast pace movements. 

“I’m afraid not,” Hoseok huffs a laugh.

The two younger royal guards speedily ransack each drawer and closet until their arms are full of materials. They stumble back down the hall towards the birthing chamber. A room enclosed for the parties who participate with the anticipated arrival of the next royal kin. A domestic, darkened room provided with the country's softest furnishings. Royal officials and servants are permitted to be within the room for the delivery to ensure that there are no scandals around the birthing practice.

A midwife places herself before the legs of the Queen. A moan of pain rips from her Highness’s throat. Jimin and Hoseok stand idly as the birthing of child number three crowns at the entrance of the world, preparing to gain its first breath of fresh air. The scene is natural for humans, even more common for a royal to carry out in front of an audience.

For Jimin, he prefers not to stare like the others. His polished amber eyes trail to the lines of the floorboards, using any peripheral view for his advantage.

“It’s a girl!” He hears the cries from a newborn baby, the declaration announced by the midwife who’s wiping off residue from the infant.

Placed on the chest of her mother, the newest child of the royals whines freely. The sound rings through the ears who listen. The King is joyous, regardless of being unable to create a proper heir to his throne. But with the first two daughters – and now third, the royal guards know his Highness will move quickly in trying for a son.

Servants flutter about, handling the delicacies of aftercare for childbirth. Jimin follows after his friend, handing off the pile of cloth to a maiden. Bodies move around another like an assembly line. 

For a moment, and only a moment is needed, did Jimin finally take a swift glance at the newborn who screams her upset. He locks eyes with the infant over the shoulder of Hoseok, seeing a warmth of an everlasting hearth as she cries wet droplets down her face.

Then it happened.

Jimin is struck with something that is indescribable. Something that couldn’t be defined. He’s heard through stories and lores within his lineage that this phenomenon could happen to anyone at any time in one's life. He hears about it through those he’s close to and those who experience it. It’s a once in a lifetime deal.

He can feel the shift of his weight when he locks eyes with the newborn baby. As if this new formed motion represents an outstanding astronomical level. Where his world, which once revolved around the Sun as it does for everyone, now revolves around this small, fragile child.

Jimin’s heartbeat thumps in his ears as the world freezes around him. Hoseok and the other royal wolf guards all sense a change in the wind. If it isn’t Hoseok ushering him out of the way of the other servants and departing out of the chamber, he’s sure the royal family would have done it themselves. 

With his head on a silver platter.

Hoseok’s palm slaps the side of Jimin’s cheek to gain his consciousness from whatever daze he’s fumbled in. It takes him a few good taps before Jimin blinks. His blood runs rampant inside him with warmth and excitement.

The second Jimin looked at the third child of the royal household, everything changed within him. All of a sudden, nothing else matters. The yearning of knowing and willing to do anything, be anything, for her is the only constant demand singing at the back of his head.

“You didn’t,” Hoseok’s hushed tone stays low. “Not a royal!”

“How am I supposed to control that?” Jimin stresses. “I can’t choose who this happens to! I didn’t expect this to happen to me!” He runs a hand through his soft hair, exhaling sharply as his mind begins to race.

“You’re going to learn,” Hoseok claims. His eyes are sharp and narrow. “You will learn to control it. A wolf is not allowed to be mixed with a royal. They’ll kill you.”

His imprint will be kept secret from the royals and the precious baby girl. But for his wolf mates, each of them knows the severity of the situation. Not one member will speak of it, they only can respect it. As for Jimin, he’ll spend the rest of her life – your life – being what you need him to be. A friend, a brother, a protector. Whatever you require of him, he will act accordingly in secrecy while obeying his rightful duties to the royal throne.

White flurries fall slowly from the gray clouds above, decorating the large courtyard, you look down towards the sheet of fresh snow. Most of the garden that blooms the most gorgeous flowers is now a mess of dead plants and weeds. The bare trees stand firm. But those who stand strong in the winter months like hollies with red berries and camellias, continue to stand out next to the beauty of sheared evergreens and deciduous shrubs with colorful stems.

Your eyes are not trained on admiring the bright snow that cascades from the sky so beautifully. Normally you would. As you sit by your glass window with a blanket around your shoulders, you look down from your chambers on the third level of the castle to fancy something different.

Men – some of the royal guards – play around with one another in the cold weather. Some have shifted to their wolven form, others remain in their noble suits. The one you fixate your stare on is your personal guard, Jimin.

He stands leaning against the stone staircase beside a few of his equals. Chatting away about who knows what, watching the others roughhouse. Jimin is quite handsome, he always has been. For as long as you can remember he’s looked the same, minus the fluctuation of hair styles and added tattoos that linger his body and a few added battle scars.

As a guard he wears your family's sigil proudly – a lotus flower – on each of his articles of clothing. Customized into each of the guards’ crested plates of metal armor and sewn into each leather hide. 

Jimin possesses the unfair mix of unlimited masculine and feminine traits, having a soft-looking composure and full lips plus a sharp jawline and toned muscles. His voice is nearly angelic when speaking in hushed tones but also stern as ever when he leads with his strong confidence. He may not be as large as his fellow wolves, but he’s proven himself countless times to your family to have the privilege to be your personal guard. There’s nobody quite like him; no one you’ve met in your life that is.

You commend him in silence, appreciating what you can watch from afar. Even from a distance behind a glass window, he somehow manages to make your heart race. An infatuation some may call it. A yearning. He and your family have been consistent in your life, he’s comfort – as are they. But you knew from a young age, from when you began favoring Jimin’s company over others, that you need to call it ‘nothing’. Because whatever feelings that spin deep inside you are never to be spoken aloud. It’s foolish for your Kingdom, family, and you to long for a wolf who doesn’t see you as anything but a duty.

What’s more disappointing is that you don’t need to admit these infuriating feelings to Jimin, he already knows. He would never allow it to get far by cutting you short and being curt with clipped words and disapproving looks.

He is a wolf and you are a royal. Two beings who have no business intertwining besides with loyalty to the family and the job of a guard. Your acquaintanceship between another is only going to be professional. Perhaps it’s to keep the bloodline pure, untainted. How every sibling of the family is betrothed to a neighboring kingdom, growing the alliance across countries. And not one of them has a blend of wolf’s blood in them. Even though werewolves are evident in the world around you.

“Aren’t you supposed to get ready for the party tonight?” A maid who's making your bed quips up as you're daydreaming down into the evergreen.

“I’ve been stuck on deciding which dress I should wear.”

“No, you’ve been stuck staring out into the courtyard,” she corrects.

You slump in your seat as you stubbornly hold your position by the window. When you look back down, you admire the off-brown and black tones of that particular wolf you fancy. She isn’t wrong, you know. His kind eyes and kind smiles make you feel warmth like no other, and you enjoy seeing them when you gain the chance.

“I can multitask,” you feebly argue. You drag the blanket tighter around your shoulders, keeping in the warmth of your body as much as possible. “Besides, the party isn’t for a few more hours.”

“Princess, you already have guests arriving. Half the guard is at the entrance welcoming the parties who show up early. Let’s not begin to mention how several potential suitors are arriving today. You’ve failed to marry even when betrothed. Such a shame what happened with the Jeon family.”

“I prefer not to be a royal. It doesn’t feel right the way we work,” you sigh as the joyful wolves down below have fun while you’re stuck in your tower with envy. “Can we braid my hair the way we did at my Aunt’s wedding? It cascaded down beautifully.” You speak while staring out of the window, purposely ignoring the heavier topic your maid mentions. “I’ll go with the silver dress. That one that comes with the gorgeous fur shawl.”

You notice the way that Jimin has suddenly turned to look up toward your window, half expecting to see you through the glass. Even in the midst of his comrades, he finds a way to give you an ounce of attention. He shakes his head momentarily, already scolding you without knowing what you’re supposed to be doing. Jimin knows looking for him isn’t on your agenda, you purposely put him there.

“For me to do that,” – you hear the voice of your maid – “I need you to get out of your chair and into your washroom.”

A small frown carves into your face when Jimin circles his finger in the air and directs you to turn around, go back to your business. He knows he’s escorting you tonight at the party, you will see him later. To make his point come across sternly, he disassociates his eye contact – bringing his attention back to his other peers and away from you.

“Princess,” your maid bids you once again.

Reluctant to leave your post at the window, you stand up regardless. You have a long night ahead of you while the castle starts to fill up with guests for your younger brother’s birthday party.

You can’t be bothered with the chattering staff or the nuisance of guests who flutter around the halls of your family’s castle. Each moment you find open to run away, to a quieter place and away from their eyes, you take it. Swiftly moving left and right until you can find your favorite spots to hide since you were a child. 

One of which happens to be past the hallway of family portraits. If you travel far enough you find yourself at a dead end. With cabinets, paintings, and curtains outlining every inch of the stone walls. Torches are lit to illuminate the surrounding areas, bringing light to the beautiful surroundings.

But little do most know, that behind painting number two – the one in the golden frame with green shrubbery and a little boy playing the flute – lies a secret behind it. You just need to get here without anyone seeing you sneak in. There’s no point in a secret hideout if you accidentally show it to other guests.

You wait for the time, seeing when that end of the hall becomes vacant and people rush toward the call of the buffet lines. The small talk you make with a few distant relatives is only an act, pretending to walk along with them but slipping away when you find your moment to.

Pressing lightly, the nook of a room behind the large painting greets you. It’s closet sized, filled with a few pieces of your past and littered in dust from lack of touch. Tarps are draped over unused furniture; you’re thankful that this hideout is never really used. The painting that acts as a door allows you a small peeping eyehole to look out and judge when you can come out.

The silver dress you picked for tonight's gathering is a smart choice for you; you’re able to sit down comfortably without restriction. You love the look of a free-flowing gown, falling nicely with the way you walk. Patting off a layer of dust from a chair, you’re able to seat yourself as you take an old notebook in your hand.

Small doodles linger on the pages, all drawn by your younger self. You remember each of them, no matter how terrible they may look. It’s how you pass time while hiding in here. The low lighting from the cracks of the portrait gives you most of your light source, and occasionally you will add flame to the candle that rests on the top of the desk beside you.

You scowl at the dried black ink next to the quill pen, the feather beaten up and torn. It’s been years since you’ve last touched it. Maybe browsing through all the pages of your books won’t be so bad as you loiter in your small den.

“Princess Y/n.”

A spark of panic zaps through you like lightning in the sky on a stormy day. Surprised by the voice of none other than Jimin, your personal royal guard. You watch as fingers curl around the edge of the portrait-door and a beautiful, yet stern, face peeks through. His amber eyes catch you as they squint at your mischievous behavior. 

“I knew you would be hiding somewhere.” He comments as he pushes himself through the opening and into the room. Jimin wears the guards festive wear, a beautiful pink etched coat with cream leather hide armor. He’s sure to close the door behind him; he’s more stealthy than you can ever be. “Are you upset?”

“No,” you turn your head back to the book in your hands. The weight of his gaze on you is nearly suffocating. “I simply wanted solitude.”

“You know you are to be returned. They’re calling upon your brother shortly for his ceremony. It’s a big event for him,” his tone is low but he maintains a soft tenor to it. Jimin is far too kind toward you even though he’s meant to be a guard and nothing more. His exterior has toughened over the years, as it should to fill his part. Although, the sweeter half of him sticks out to you and perhaps that’s what you’ve held onto all these years.

“Sadly, I know.” You shut your eyes and sigh heavily, “I’m not quite in the celebratory mood. I would much prefer to be in my chambers.”

“That’s selfish of you.” Jimin’s hand comes to take away your book, placing it on the desk where it belongs. He bends down to level his face with yours. “You should be happy for your brother, he’s of age to carry out duties now. To be what he needs to be. Something you should understand.”

You hear the underlying hint Jimin gives you. He’s softly scolding you, as usual. 

At first you say nothing in response. Downcasting your eyes to your empty hands as you think what can be said to counter him, but you draw nothing.

You’re the third child in the family of four. A role where you feel invisible and forgotten. Always having second bests and hand-me-downs. Once your brother, who is a few years younger than you, sprouted from the womb of your mother – all chances of your favor flew out the window. As a male in this royal world is keen, any daughter is denied the spotlight. But you never craved a place to rule, or to do what a princess must do. Your oldest sister, the most responsible one of all, desires that for herself. You see it in the way she presents herself. Aces every test and diplomacy role she is given.

The second oldest is the fairest, she didn't need to do much to gain the popularity or attention she is given. It comes so unfairly natural to her thanks to the outstanding looks she’s been blessed with. A privilege only few and far between are given. Life for her is as simple as breathing, all she needs to do is point and ask.

Your younger brother is everything that your father waited for. Of course, your father, the King, treats all his children with love and passion. Keeps you sheltered, fed, and protected. However, the moment he received a bouncing baby boy – that tears any favoritism away from you or your sisters. A male has an unfair advantage in the royal family, it’s just how the world is.

“Princess –”

“– I know,” you unwillingly stand up from your chair. Jimin straightens himself as well, taken aback by your swift movement. “I want to retire after his ceremony,” you say curtly.

You take a single step toward the door as your hand reaches out to push against it, Jimin’s hand  grabs your wrist gently, like catching a delicate rose. Softly, he lowers your arm down as he steps before you with a concerned look on his face. His eyes search for signs of distress on your face.

“You’re upset,” he affirms.

“Nothing works in my favor,” you address with a choleric tone. Anger isn’t something you want resting on the surface, but it’s leaking out of the seams of your composure. “Sometimes, I truly despise being a royal daughter.”

You stare at the digits wrapped around your wrist, noticing how Jimin hasn’t let go of you yet. It feels cruel how you wish there was more meaning to the contact. Why can’t he hold you the way you long for him to?

Your eyes meet his with confusion and sadness. The pretty amber color still stands out in the low lighting, they’re beautiful to stare at. But you can’t read what’s going on in his mind. 

Jimin feels your sadness. He is connected to you deeply, little do you know. You can never know. It’s safer this way. Slowly, he releases your wrist letting his fingertips be the last thing that brushes against your skin. He can only comfort you so much without overstepping his boundaries. If he capsizes every time you give him those hopeless eyes, he’ll lose his placement in the guard and lose you indefinitely.

“Please,” he breathes, “We must go.”

Jimin pushes the hatch open steadily, peering out through the eyehole to make sure the coast is clear to sneak back into the festivities. He leaves space between the two of you as you walk side-by-side.

Silent tension surrounds you as your heels click with every step you take. There’s a dullness in your eyes, a lack of enthusiasm the closer you approach the center of the party. The amount of people here drains you even as you wear a kind smile.

Your little brother’s coronation will go quickly, you hope. Jimin’s words resound in your head, causing you to reflect on what he said.

“That’s selfish of you.”

You make your way to your designated chair at the family table quietly. The talks and commotions between the castle’s guests, family from far and wide, don’t phase you as you blur out the noise. The red liquid poured graciously in a chalice beside you becomes your saving grace; your delicate fingers grasp the cup and run over the smooth jewels embedded on the sides.

Your eyes find Jimin’s across the crowded room as he stands on guard near one of the walls. His hand rests over the handle of his sword casually, a weapon they choose first before shifting as a last resort. He can read the longing in your eyes with a mix of desperation and gloom. 

You wait to see his expected disapproving look. The one that tells you to pay attention to something else other than him – but you don’t. He stuns you confused as, instead of his typical stern look, he looks down at the ground. Deep in thought.

Are you truly selfish when nobody around you is selfless?

Your chamber is a sanctuary. Filled with all the necessities you need to live like royalty. An abundant amount of candles have been lit to brighten the room, giving it a soft aura. 

You wear your hair down, untied from the tight braids you wore for the majority of the night. Your nightgown, cream in color and silk to the touch, is loose in all the right places. The ceremony took its time as you waited to retire for the night with the little patience you have left. You’re positive plenty of men are still celebrating at their feast. 

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

A loud thud shakes the doors to your room, a verbal grunt can be heard. You look over at your maid who does the same as she slowly walks toward the noise. There's a scurry of traffic beyond your door as the two of you try to make out the words that are being shouted. You take a step with her, but with that single step you catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye. Through the window you see a flash of red light. Smoke rises as pieces of the garden have been lit to flame. Upon closer inspection, you peer down your window into the once beautiful scenery to find brawls of fights. Men fighting enemies with swords, crossbows and guns.

Another thump hits the outside of your chamber’s doors and you twist your head to see your maid inches away from the handle, ready to pull.

“Don’t!” You turn frantic to shout at her.

But it is too late. Your maid already has her hand twisting the handle to pull the door open. But a force pressed the door faster than she anticipated – a body of a man standing guard slumped against the doorframe and now falling to the floor. A wound across his neck as blood smears across your family’s sigil on his leather chest plate.

Both you and your maid screech at the sight as you back away from the door. You can hear the commotion louder now as bodies rush past the halls as they run away from the intruders.

“Hide!” Your maid shoos you quickly and frantically while her first attempt of shutting your chamber’s door fails.

You’re not given a moment to think before you watch as two ruffians walk up to the door, one holding a flamed torch and a hand dagger as the other holds a handgun. They’re dirty from appearance, wearing torn up clothes but come armed with weapons that look like they belong to someone wealthy. They smile evilly, curling their lips at the sight of you as they advance on your maid.

“There’s a royal,” one comments in a ghoulish tone. They step over the body below them like it’s a fallen tree trunk. They laugh among each other, giggling at whatever is playing on in their minds. You definitely do not wish to know.

Your maid twists away, hoisting her skirt up high enough to let her legs lounge as she begins to run toward you. It provokes one of the men, making him chase her immediately as he finds it funny to stalk her. Threaten her with the slices he mimics with his dagger in the air.

Slowly, your feet have backed up along the path of your room. You make sure you keep as much furniture between you and the intruders. Your eyes remain open wide, trying so hard not to blink and miss any sudden movements.

You feel small compared to the man’s stature as he creeps closer and closer to you. Hectically, your hands reach around the tops of dressers and tables to find anything to use as a weapon. A letter opener? A pen? Anything to defend yourself from whoever these men are who impose your safe space.

More screams and shouts can be heard throughout the castle halls and outside. The place is being run down with bandits, unknown persons who you cannot identify from first glance. They wear close to all black attire, worn down from several years. Protected by pads and suitable armor, as if they collected stolen pieces and placed them together.

You hold your arms closer to your body with the heat of the males heavy gaze on you. His eyes look bloodshot as he studies your options of escape.

“Come here little royal,” he sneers while his beaten up boots scuff across the floor.

Your maid is chased across the wall, quickly making her way toward you as the other man follows her like a hunter. Herding his prey together before they set to kill.

They rush the two of you, forcing you to nearly trip over your own feet as your gown betrays you while you step on the very end of it. A small rip of fabric resounds but you’re in too much of a haste to notice from where.

Your maid screams in horror as you yell out for help. Your bodies fumble across the expanse of your chamber’s, trying to find the opportunity to rush out of the door if you can. To escape the men who run after you.

Where are the rest of your guards? What is happening and why are your werewolf guards not attacking? Who are these men and what do they have to attack the castle with? In all your years on this planet, you’ve never been caught in a situation like this. No intruder has ever made it past the front gates until now.

A knife is thrown in your direction, missing you but landing straight into the wall beside your head.

“Oops, guess I need to try that again,” you hear the male speak with malicious intent.

The other has gained enough momentum to grab your maid, pull her in as she struggles to fight him off. He’s rough, holding her arms as he pushes her against the wall. You're already rushing to her side, using your fists to hit the man on his arm and back.

“Get off of her!” you bawl, throwing your fist at him as fast as possible.

A hand grips your hair, yanking you back away from the two and onto the closest table. Your back hits the surface hard as the man presses you down. He threatens you with a dagger pointed at your face as his other hand holds you down by your shoulder.

The brute force immediately makes your eyes water as you stare up at the man in fear. You wrap your hands around his wrists to push him off, holding him off for as long as you can. Your kicks and screams do nothing to phase him, only fuels him.

You feel his hand slide to your throat; latch his ugly, dirty fingers around your neck. It’s brief, like a flash of lightning. But just as soon as he repositions himself, an arrow shoots straight into his head. Visibly shaken, you struggle to process the vicious man above you losing the life he has.

Your efforts of pushing begin to work as his lack of strength weakens by the second. A final push, not made by you – but from your personal guard, Jimin, knocks the man entirely off of you. He’s quick, already primed and prepped to shoot the other ruffian the second he turns away from your maid and to see his comrade passed out on the floor. Jimin launches another arrow with a flick of his finger, a perfect shot.

Both ruthless and merciless men seem to be dead, fallen to the floor of your chamber’s as pools of blood leak from their bodies.

You and your maid tremble in fear and anxiety. Frightened at the series of events and how the two of you were nearly brutally attacked.

Jimin wears streaks of blood across his face as his hair falls out of place. His beautifully tailored festive armor is now beaten and destroyed with stains. You look at him with confusion and anguish as reality sets in.

“Jimin,” you cry out in a broken sob. Your throat tightens and feels as if it’s being pricked by a dozen thorns while your hand runs up to touch the area where the man laid his fingers on.

“I’m sorry,” are the first words out of his mouth. Solemn and saddened. But he’s relieved to be here for you, even if he is cutting it short and close to being a second too late. 

It isn’t his fault the castle has been blindsided and an evil group has snuck their way inside its walls and started a reign of terror. But he takes blame for not being at your side every second that he should have been. Instead, he rushed to the frontlines once called upon. Tried to stop the invasion from penetrating deeper into the castle. 

In most cases this strategy works, but unfortunately tonight – it doesn’t.

But as the fighting continues and larger groups of people begin rushing in from all areas of the castle – equipped with tainted metals containing mountain ash and wolfsbane – the royal guards are not as prepared. A minor setback, yet it almost costs your life.

“I came as soon as I could,” he steps closer to you with sympathetic eyes. He’s hurt, more worried about how you are as he feels your dread and fear. “I’m so sorry.”

There’s still many battles being fought throughout the castle. People being slayed as guards protect as much as they can. Jimin helps you stand straight, holding you close to him as he’s escorting both your maid and you out of your chamber’s.

“Jimin,” you repeat as you hold onto him, wrapping your hands desperately around him. “Who are they?”

He brings the two of you deeper into your chamber, rushing you to a secret doorway that leads to a hidden passage. Your castle is littered with these; most guards know several entrances but not a lot of exits. It’s a maze down there; dark, cold, and gloomy as well. As a child, you would wander through some just to see how far you could reach without cowering out.

“They must be from the South. They’re fighting with wolfsbane. Their weapons are laced with it.”

It’s common knowledge that wolfsbane is rare near these grounds. It’s ordinary for them to grow down South, but they can be imported. Your family is known for being guarded by werewolves; so an attack like this must be heavily planned.

“Remember the passageways?” Jimin grunts as he pushes both you and your maid toward a panel against the wall. It’s colored like an archway, but the third one can be open with a twist of a lever. Specifically the sconce hanging to the left of it. “I need you to escape through them.”

You hear the falter in Jimin’s voice momentarily, how he sounds like he staggered his breath.

“Are you hurt?” You ask alarmingly. Your eyes frantically scan over his exterior, looking for any noticeable signs of a wound.

“Princess, I need you to go through the passageways,” he turns the lighting fixture swiftly. The secret door clicks open, a cool gust of air puffs through and hits against your skin. “Don’t worry about me. I need to protect you and the rest of your family.”

Your maid understands, already stepping through as she’s pulling you with her. Jimn is a guard, he needs to go and maintain his duty. Your maid is a servant – she is here to assist you until she can no longer. She begs you to step quickly, down the stone stairs into the pit of the passages.

“Jimin, no!” You grip tighter on his forearm as he tries to shrug you off of him. Blood tarnishes your cream colored nightgown as you’re pulled away from Jimin. It must be from those Jimin has fought already. “Come with me!”

Jimin takes your chin in his hand and inspects the distress on your face. Even when rushed, worried about your safety and life, he looks at you like he’s lost in your eyes. The gentle touch of his fingertips feels serene, featherlight even though they’re calloused through the years of combat. 

He’s moving you back into the passageway, gripping the door with his other hand to shut it on you when the moment comes. There’s displeasure spilling out of him only because he is infuriated by the way you stubbornly won’t see the concern for yourself.

“I need to protect the family. This is me protecting you,” he speaks sternly. “Please listen to me, princess,” he exhales slowly. His eyes flicker across your features with tenderness, “I am not losing you. Use the passageways,” he reminds you. “Exit at the stables. I will meet you there. You know which way to go?”

You stare at him dumbfounded at first. Like time is slowing down, but you cannot shake the feeling that you won’t see him again. You don’t feel convinced.

“B-But –”

“Go!” Jimin practically growls out his demand to you. In an instant, his amber eyes shine with a blue ring around his irises. It’s the first time Jimin has ever used that timbre with you, making you jolt away with shock. 

He warns you to watch your step and stay on the correct path toward the stables. Keep close to your maid and stay quiet. He rips off his cavalier shoulder cape, draping it around your shoulders to keep you warm as you descend into the chilly pathways. Jimin closes the door promptly, forcing you to turn with your maid and to escape to safety. Your heart ricochettes inside your chest, pounding erratically as you rush.

Throughout the narrow hallways, dripping with leaking water spouts and cobwebs, you hear the signs of savage wolf growls and barks as your royal guard begin shifting as their last resort. Cries of pain and fighting scare you further as you follow the lead of your maid, wondering how you’ll survive what comes ahead. The thin slippers still on your feet dampen with every hurried step you take as you hold Jimin’s cape tighter against your frame to stay as warm as possible.

“I am not losing you,” replays inside your head and inside your heart.

Moonlight shines from above as your maid cracks open a hardened rock exitway. You came across many forks in the maze of the castle's passageways, but you remember from your past the correct ways to take. The two of you are at the stables, you can smell the mixture of horse and hay in the air. The area is unhit from the onslaught of violence for now.

“Shall we take a horse?” Your maid suggests as she creeps behind a bundle of stacked hay.

“Jimin said he’ll meet us here,” you remind her. 

The chill of the outside runs straight through your body. You curse to yourself at your poor choice of attire.

Together, the two of you watch the distance of all the violence. You see bloodshed with many reinforcements coming from every side of the castle. The thought of Jimin being caught in this mess sends a shiver down your spine. Wolves – your family's guards – have shifted to their creature form. They’re larger than any wild wolf; standing on all four limbs taller than most humans. 

They’re very swift at responding to the attackers, taking them out one by one. But you know the attackers are fighting against them with poisonous tactics – an advantage to go against such beasts. With these weapons, the werewolves near invulnerability, speed, and strengths are weakened once hit with the toxins. You can already witness it with a few of your guards.

“We’re still inside the castle walls, Princess. We need to get out of here fast,” she insists. Her eyes scan around for an opening, an escape route for the two of you. You’ll have to be fast.

“He knows we are here!” You yell at her in a hushed tone. “I’m not leaving unless it’s with –”

Just as you attempt to finish your sentence, the loud sound of wood snapping through the entrance door interrupts you. Men rush in, manically screaming in an uproar as the flames of their torches begin touching the fodder in the stables. Setting the straw ablaze in a matter of seconds.

You and your maid slouch back into a corner, away from view for as long as you can. Horses neigh with anger, jumping and kicking as the brightness and heat of fire creeps toward them. You cannot fathom the thought of losing these beautiful warhorses as they’re each tied to their own box.

“Release them,” you whisper to your maid before you frantically get up from your position and reach for the first horse.

Your soft hands flick up the lever to the wooden door, opening it up for the horse to run through and stumble toward the exit of the stables.

The maid begs you to stay hidden, but you refuse with stubbornness. In the same breath, you hear a shriek from her as you are in the midst of lifting another lever. The attackers have noticed her and shortly spot you as well.

She looks at you with panic, “Run!”

In seconds, she is being grabbed once again by these aggressors. Forced down with a hard shove as she hits the ground. You shout, scream, and cry at the men who flock over toward her. A pitchfork near you is the first thing you see to use as a weapon. Surely you can scare someone off with the points of the tines. 

A bellowful growl grows from a stampede of three wolves bursting onto the scene. They’re far too fast for your eyes to keep up, seeing flashes of their fur dashing around you to strike your attackers. Their teeth bare as they snarl and bite into the flesh of the men, claws digging through the fabrics and skin.

One wolf is nearly all black, slicked fur making it shine in the night. Another has a warm russet color, speckled with hues of beige but warm under the ember of the fires around you. The last wolf is your wolf – you know him far too well. Brighter shades of light brown are in his face as the rest of his pelt darkens into a deep dark, chocolate color. His amber eyes, now sparked with blue, casts over to you briefly as he takes out an enemy, his paw stepping hard against his chest and pressing down.

It’s like whiplash with how fast the royal guards cleared out the stables as the fire consumes the fixtures around you. Smoke fills the air, rising heavily as thick clouds form. Pieces of the loft areas begin to break and fall as the other roped up horses huff and puff.

The stark black wolf is the one lifting your maid off the ground as it nudges her. She’s wounded, you can tell as red covers the fabric of her left arm. You take a step toward her, wanting to console and help – but in return you are barked at by Jimin. He rushes toward you, his speed frightening you as you backpedal away from the area. He stares hard at you, growling in a low tone as ashes fall behind him.

He’s moving you away, wanting you out of the area. The other two wolves bark in his direction, some form of communication you cannot understand as Jimin glances back and responds with his own call. 

The russet colored wolf jumps toward Jimin as you watch your maid latch onto the black fur of the other. She gives you a sympathetic look, mouthing the words ‘get out of here’ to you.

A large beam from above falls and crashes in the middle of the stables, breaking other fixtures in its path. Ember’s rise from the burning building with a massive gust of wind as you turn your face away from the crash.

“Jimin!” You cough as your arms shield you. Your eyes tickle in pain from the smoke, the fire’s brightness doesn’t help either.

You can feel the brush of fur against you as a heavy body presses into your front. You smell the wilderness immediately as you fall forward, burying your face and arms into Jimin’s coat. He nudges you with his shoulder and a grunt. Somehow able to understand what he’s saying.

Quickly, you pull yourself up along his back like one would do for a horse. Your face remains embedded into his fur as you wrap your arms around his neck, hooking your fists onto his coat to anchor yourself.

You move with the russet colored wolf as he clears out the path ahead of you and Jimin. Taking down any attacker standing in the path to escape. It’s difficult to hold onto a wolf, feeling your limbs tighten around Jimin as hard as you possibly can just to stay on top as he dashes through the terrain.

His goal is to get you out of here safely, remove you from the premises. He brings you farther and farther away from the castle and closer to the woods. The last glimpse you dare to make shows you the image of the russet wolf turning back toward the scorched castle grounds.

You pray for the good safety of everyone. Hope the castle is still together after the royal guard protects and saves the night.

It’s freezing as Jimin runs through the thicket of the wilderness, deeper than you ever dare to go alone. You keep your head down, pressed into his back as bitter cold breezes over the surfaces of your body that aren't protected by Jimin’s warmth. The nightgown you wear is thin, not topped with layers among layers of fabrics and wiring like a corseted dress would have. Not to mention the tingling burn to your bare feet as the winter air touches them. But he is warm. A heated beast beneath you, emitting a comforting temperature the more your fingers curl into the roots of his bristle fur.

His breath is labored, chest heaving as his limbs carry you fast. Jimin zips through the rough terrain of the earthy woods, jumping and dodging the obstacles in his way. You fear the tightness of your muscles as you cling on to him, feeling the exhaust of your body as they sore.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been a passenger on Jimin’s back. Everything has happened so quickly. It isn’t until you hear the noises of strangers. The padding of snow under Jimin’s paws begins sounding different. Now stepping on hardened ground.

Your eyes blink open as you take in the surroundings passing by. Glowing lights in tapered windows of wooden cabins flash in seconds. Secured doors and moss growth along the sides of several cabin-like housings. 

Jimin leads with a howl, rushing toward the only place he knows will keep you the most protected. He slows his pace as he draws near, beckoning with a warning call for the door to swing open and allow him in. You find yourself entering with him, a soft warmth from a low burning fireplace greets you as the two of you enter.

You feel the way Jimin stumbles, his body catching up with how taxed he must be. The way his shoulders shrug tells you to dismount him as his mouth pants labored breaths. Carefully, you slide until your toes touch the floor below you.

“Jimin?” Your first concern comes out worriedly. Your hands still roam his fur as you notice the warmth of red liquid staining your palms – even pieces of your clothes. It’s enough to make you feel uneasy about the open wounds you fail to find through his pelt.

He’s quick to move from you, tripping over himself as he walks deeper toward the back of the cabin. A low growl rumbles from his chest as a warning, unwanted contact from you.

You take a step to follow him, seeing how hurt he is – it only wrenches your heart tighter. Your eyes grow wider the further he steps away from you, scurrying himself as he barks in the air for help.

A soft pair of hands hold onto your elbow, keeping you from the beast in pain. You snap your head toward the contact, searching for the reason why you’ve been halted.

“Don’t.” A woman with dark, long wavy hair speaks in a low tone. Her skin is aged but glows beautifully. Bundled up in layered clothes, she wears a worried look just like you. But it’s because she is stressed about your concern over the wolf in agony. “He will be alright.”

The door behind her has already been shut tight as the woman urges you to sit on the closest couch. Your eyes flick back to Jimin who continues to pad down the end of the hallway, twisting into a new shape as his body slowly transforms back into a human state. It’s an image you never expected to see, completely magical and out of this world as you catch glimpses of a wolf morphing into man.

His deep groans turn more audible as his real voice is able to break free.

“Wolfsbane –” he curses out into the open as he’s hunched over. He breathes heavily, open mouth catching air for his lungs as his fingers now claw at the bloody abrasion on the left side of his chest.

From your spot on the sofa, you witness Jimin suffering in a fetal position with no clothes. He’s turned to the side, hiding what he can in his vulnerable state. His long hair, usually kept neatly pulled back, falls dramatically across his face. His nose scrunches as his lips pull back to show his seething teeth.

“Jimin!” You begin to stand up, but the woman holds her hands out before you.

“Stay, Princess! Please!” Her voice is soft.

She tries her best to be respectful, honoring your title even in the severity of a situation. “I’m his mother.” She claims before gripping a knitted wool blanket off the back of a chair and rushing over to her son.

You blink, stunned as you process all the movements and information playing out in front of you.

Jimin coughs as his head presses into the floor. You watch in horror the way Jimin’s body rejects the burn of the wolfsbane that entered his system. Jerking and moving in his place as some mystical natured element helps overcome his pain. Jimin’s mother places the blanket over Jimin, shielding him from your innocent eyes. She squats beside him, hand placing over his forehead as his face twists with strain.

“Fight it,” she encourages as she pushes back his bangs to inspect his eyes. They’re reddened on the edges. The infection attacks deeply within him. His blue shiny irises that come out when he taps into his wolf form is stationary, shining brightly as he internally battles the poisonous herb. “Push it out, you can do it.”

You catch him staring at you as he overcomes this annoyance. It’s not enough to be deadly for him, but it is a good amount to weaken his overall state for the time being. His body fights to heal properly, but he’ll be ready soon.

The first initial wave of pain eases on Jimin. You don’t notice it due to the blanket covering his body, but a small pool of tainted blood leaks out of his wound. Spoiled by the wretched poison. It’s what his body needs to do, reject it and remove it entirely from him.

“Can I help in any way?” You stand and step toward him as his panting calms.

“No, no!” Jimin’s mother’s hands shoot out, shooing you. “You don’t need to do anything! His body is healing,” she reassures. “It may not make any sense, but he is going to be good. Just give him some time. Wolves have an accelerated healing power.”

“But –” you begin to counter. You feel helpless, powerless. Your heart hurts from seeing Jimin in such a distraught state. You can’t shake the image out of your head.

“Stop,” you hear Jimin breathing out. His tenor voice aching as his body shivers. “Stay over there,” he begs. “Just give me a second, Princess.”

All you can do is wait. Watch the way the man you care for struggles with himself as his supernatural body convulses and kicks out the vicious wolfsbane as he rapidly recovers. His grunts and groans do nothing to help, making you worry even more. 

When Jimin finally settles, he lays limp on the floor. Relief washes over him as the surging pain seizes and his body begins to feel like normal once again. Sweat has slickened the roots of his hair, surely the rest of his skin expelled other toxins.

He starts to lift himself off the floor, using his arms to push him up to a sitting position first – then enough to stand. He clutches the blanket around him. Holding it tight around his waist and covering his lower region.

“Take your time,” his mother whispers. She, too, stands with him. Using her hands to help guide him if he wavers on his feet. He’s taller than her, but you can tell she’s strong from the way she helps hold her son up.

“I have to go back,” he says to her, but stares at you.

Jimin takes a few tentative steps until he catches the motion easilier. He walks over to you in concern, abandoning the dripped blood on the floorboard from where he once laid. You're shivering in place, not realizing it yourself.

“Mom, would you mind finding something the princess can change into? Clean her up a little as well?”

You waste no time rushing yourself to him regardless of Jimin pleading for you not to. That doesn’t stop the way your arms wrap around his torso, feeling the warmth of his smooth skin as you hold him. Your head curls into his shoulder as his free arm surrounds your back, pulling you against him.

“Please, be good. Back up,” he slowly walks you in his embrace. 

You feel the rumble of his voice through his chest as you press desperately against him, not wanting to let him go just yet. He’s homely like your favorite hiding place back in the castle or the comfort of your bed after a long day of duties. It feels right to be with him as your mind speaks these words of nonsense.

“Don’t leave again,” you beg as your heartstrings twinge with sadness. You think latching onto Jimin even more would be the answer of his choice, but alas it is not. His arm is placing you down on the sofa for you to sit as he kneels on the floor. Even when you try grabbing at him, he politely pushes your hands away.

“Mom,” Jimin calls out as his hands grip the bottoms of your bare feet. He runs his palms across them, feeling how frigid they’ve become. Jimin ignores the way your cold hands try to turn his head to look up at you, stubbornly keeping it down and focused on your toes. When he fails to hear a response, he shouts again, “Mom!”

“Jimin!” You call to get his attention, fingers running through his thick locks to expose his face. Cupping his cheeks doesn’t suffice either, even your attempt to tilt his jaw fails. He isn’t budging from his position.

His mother comes out of another room with an abundant amount of clothes. Each of them look heavy, thick. Enough to hopefully keep you bundled up in the chill of a winter’s night.

Jimin squeezes your feet with his hands, trying to circulate more blood flow as he tries to warm you. He suffers knowing you’re freezing, not in an ideal state. But he can also feel the way your heart pangs with confusion and hurt. He can smell the fear radiating off of your body as you process so much.

“Would you mind changing into these?” His mother comes into your view. She begins placing pieces out in order to dress. Layers ready at your will. “I can wash your nightgown. Rid you of those stains. I can try patching up the tears in your skirt.”

The doleful look in your eyes tells her enough at one glance. She sighs as a tear trickles down the bridge of your nose.

“Why won’t you look at me?” Your voice cracks mid sentence as you stare helplessly at Jimin.

It’s languid the way his eyes flick up to you, shrouded with sadness behind his lashes.

“You’re freezing,” he states.

“I’m more hurt that you won’t let me do anything for you,” you respond with irritation. “I’m fine. You’re not.” You gesture to his exposed chest, muddied with swipes of blood on his left side.

“There’s nothing there anymore. The wound is sealed already. It’s just drying blood.”

He looks down back at your feet, finally noticing his stained hands – how he’s holding you with his own filth. The thought upsets him entirely.

Abruptly, Jimin stands. Turning away from you and rushing over to the fireplace to place more wood in the burning embers. He tightens the blanket around his waist, pacing across the floor of the cabin for anything he thinks you need before he departs.

“Run a bath,” he tells his mother. “It’ll warm her up faster. Then she can change into the clean clothes.”

“I don’t want that,” you speak. “I’ll take the clothes as they are. But Jimin –”

“– I need to go back,” he whips around in his spot. Jimin is fast on his feet, gathering some more blankets and gripping your hand. “My old room is just over here. Make yourself at home. I know this isn’t ideal but it will keep you safe and warm. My mother,” Jimin glances over at her, “She’ll be a great help. Please, take care of the Princess before I return.”

You rip your hand away from Jimin while stubbornly holding your place on the couch. It’s an act you never suspected yourself to do so harshly. The appalled look on your face puzzles Jimin. Makes him look down at you in silence, awaiting for you to speak.

“No,” you stare back. “Why can’t you just stay?”

“I have a duty,” he responds just as fast. “One to serve the royal family.”

“I am the royal family!”

“I am a part of the entire pack fighting for the kingdom right now. I must be with them.”

The frustration causes your blood to boil under your skin. Heat rises to your cheeks as anger takes over. He’s staring you down. Jimin is right after all. But yet again, without him even speaking, you can hear his voice repeat the words ‘that’s selfish of you’. It rattles inside your head as your lips quiver with emotion.

You turn your head, eyes filled with sorrow dropping to your lap. The scolding fire from his bright eyes hurts you deeply. Yet he doesn’t have intentions to upset you, Jimin only wants to protect you.

“Go.”

The single word comes out so cold, so unlike your usual tone. It catches Jimin off guard.

The entire time Jimin’s mother stands in silence, trying to read the room herself as the two of you cast a tense environment. She has no place to utter a single word, not here. For a moment, she shares a cautious glance with her son. Something in her eyes that tells him that he needs to do something – say something.

“Prin –”

“– I do not want to see you.” Your voice sounds meek, on edge of falling over in the pool of emotion laying inside of you. If only he can understand how important you’ve made him in your life. How special he is and the comfort that comes with him when he’s around. Imagining him returning beaten up again bothers you. Thinking he might not come back at all is even worse.

“Just, go.” You command.

“Y/n,” Jimin speaks in a gentle voice. He steps closer to you with a heavy heart, “I’m sorry.” Slowly, he leans down to level his head with yours. It’s alright with him that you refuse to look back. Jimin knows he has your attention regardless. You feel the soft graze of his knuckle run along the edge of your jaw, surprised from the tender touch. “I really am sorry,” he smiles faintly as he leans in just enough to place his plump lips delicately on your temple.

Jimin leaves your side, turns on his heel and swiftly moves out the front door. It’s a rush from the way his body forms back into wolf and his paws press into the ground, carrying him further away from you. He wants to be here for you, but his loyalty lies deep to the guards and your family. Jimin knows you are safe, under the protection of his mother and the community surrounding the cabin. He would never just leave you.

A gust of wind blows in from outside, the chill reminding you how low the temperatures are. Jimin’s mother kindly shuts and locks the door. Silence stills softly in the ambiance of the crackling fireplace.

It breaks you knowing Jimin isn’t staying by your side. The rational side of your brain screams at you, telling you he is doing the right thing. But the emotional soft boundaries you have, that are more tender than a baby bird, weakens the further Jimin is. Like a piece of your heart constantly stripping from you. Cracking and bleeding from unreciprocated love.

The gentle face of Jimin’s mother approaches you, her soft hand places it upon your shoulder to gain your attention.

“Princess,” she begins with a kind tone. “Please know, we’ll do anything to protect you. You’re in a safe place now. My name is Mira. Let’s have you change into something warmer. I can make some tea as well.”

Her words do not stop the slow streams of tears dripping from your face. You wipe away each of them the moment they pass the curve of your cheeks, frustration and heartbreak laying deep within you.

When will he come back, you begin to wonder. Will he come back? Flashes of the ruffians and ruthlessness they project remind you how dangerous they are. What damages have they done with your family's castle? To your precious belongings?

And then it reminds you… You haven’t thought about your family. Your father and siblings, are they safe and sound? Are they escorted off the property by the guards as they clean up the mess of the intruders? How selfish of you, truly, to only think of yourself and Jimin.

Your realization serves you like the small piece of bread and tea served to you on a platter from Mira. It makes you cry more about how childish and foolish your mind is.

“He does love you,” Mira speaks again. Her eyes crinkle with wrinkles as she smiles. “He does the things he does because he loves you.”

Jimin yearns to return to your side the moment his feet step out of his childhood home. He rushes back to the castle grounds, reconnecting with the king's royal guard and abolishing any trespasser standing in his way. He fought for hours with righteousness and duty, tearing apart men limb from limb as he dodges the poisonous silver weapons laced with a venomous herb. When the time comes that the invasion of hoodlums either retreat or have been eliminated by the brute force of the royal guard – Jimin doesn’t hesitate to rush back to you. 

He’s been given the blessing from his higher-ups. Notified that the castle will be on high alert while the rest of your family has been scattered to their own locations of safety. They too have their own personal guards who stand their grounds and hover their sides. What matters now is that the kingdom is still intact even after such a brutal attack. They are not overthrown and they will continue on as supreme rulers.

As for any hostages held from the invaders, they will be judged appropriately and prodded for questions and answers before the royal court. Jimin has seen this many times, but never to this extent. This is the first time in his line of duty that the castle was attacked – but he is thankful for the outcome.

He wouldn’t know what would have happened if it turned out different.

His chest heaves with heavy breaths as he slows his pace the moment his eyes lay on the door to his mother’s house. Inside he knows you are waiting, impatiently he assumes. But seeing your face again will give him a sense of relief. A calming vortex that sinks deep inside his body and warms his nerves.

Jimin’s blood pumps in his ears as he calls out to his mother in the form of telepathy – a unique trait wolves have with one another. An inner circle of connections that allows wolves to speak to other wolves. Mira is ready by the door, twisting the handle and allowing Jimin a swift entrance into the house.

He tries to step quietly as his heavy wolf form causes the wood flooring to creak under his steps. His pads resound a soft thud as he walks. At first, he expects to walk straight to his room as he remembered he offered you his place to rest. But as his nose picks up your immediate scent, he realizes that you’re still resting on the couch right in front of the fire.

“She hasn’t moved,” Mira murmurs under her breath. Jimin’s mother stayed up all hours he was gone, watching and keeping you company. “I’ve given her plenty of tea and washed her face with a heated cloth. I’ve kept adding more wood to the fire to help. Even in her sleep, she still shivers. She may have hypothermia,” she warns.

He wouldn’t put it past him if this is the case. You were never made for enduring February winters in just a nightgown after all. Barefooted may he add.

Jimin walks over you, his nose sniffing at your skin to seek any discomfort your body may radiate. You lay there bundled up as much as you can under heavy fabrics of wool and fur. Jimin smiles to himself fondly as he sees the way you tuck your chin into the blanket and cover your nose.

A tentative look is shared between Jimin and his mother before he nudges his head against your arms.

You rouse from your slumber momentarily and your immediate reaction is to tighten your body and move to a more comfortable position. However, Jimin doesn’t allow you. He nudges you again and this time he digs his nose between the crack of your arms, prying them open so he can slot his head through and force your arm around his neck.

Mumbling in your sleep, you groan at the annoyance of being woken up. But when you feel the soft bristles of fur against your face and the undeniable warmth coming from them, you cling onto whatever is pressing against you.

It wakes you further. Enough to make you register enough to know Jimin is in your arms right now. Your fingers cling onto him tightly, screwing them into knots as you inhale deeply into the side of his neck. He smells like the frozen forest mixed with burning embers; the smell of smoke clogging between his roots.

His warmth is what reminds you of home. It forces happiness to leak out of your eyes as a warm tear drips onto his fur the more you bury your face into him. His movement forces you to wake up, urging you with a tug to get off the couch and follow him.

Leisurely, you hang from him while he ushers you to the other room – his room. Your feet stumble as the two of you pass Mira. You don’t care how clumsy you look, you’re just happy to have Jimin back.

“Jimin,” his mother tries speaking in a hushed tone. “Remember who you are to her.”

He doesn’t stop his stride as he enters his old bedroom with you nearly hanging off of him. It’s upkept well thanks to his mom. Nothing moved or changed over the years. With a few more nudges and suggestive pushes, he has you falling into place upon the mattress. It’s low to the ground, easy for him to step on it even in wolf form and lay comfortably as you attach yourself to his back. 

This form is undoubtedly the warmest. And with his wolf form he serves as a natural furnace for you. He doesn’t mind the way your fingers dig into his fur or the way your cold body presses desperately against his. He allows anything that will warm you up.

His eyes meet his mother’s as she leans in to shut the bedroom door. Words and feelings cannot describe his unfair bond to you – but with werewolves, they have a mutual understanding of how things work.

Jimin groans with a huff before putting his head down on the bed. He stays awake, alert, and listens to the sounds and conversations running through his head. Even when the threat is over, he still stays guard. Ready to pounce on anything that comes toward you.

For now, you may sleep comfortably. Jimin will be able to tell you later about the results of the castle and your family. 

You’re greeted by coldness as you toss and turn. The fresh chill pricks your cheeks, jolting your nerves to wake when you want nothing more than sleep. Chirps of wild birds sing outside of the window that casts a dull ray of sun into the room. It still looks dark out. There’s also an ache in your joints and muscles, particularly in your neck.

Perhaps you slept awful,  used to having your luxury linens and perfectly fluffed pillows. Instead you spent the night balled up, tight, against the only thing that holds heat.

The fire isn’t what saves you from the brisk cold of winter. It is the tender bristles of a wolf’s fur that hordes blissful heat, warmer than a copper pan filled with rocks warmed at the edge of a fire.

But you are not welcomed with that same softness of Jimin’s fur anymore. When you turn again, you realize you press against the smooth surface of his broadened back. Black ink decorates down his spine in the phases of the moon as your eyes focus from the haze of sleep. Does it make any sense to see the man you adore, shirtless with his back to you in the same bed? 

Absolutely not.

Your clogged head tries to clear the fog of confusion as you edge away from Jimin. He’s tucked under the covers, just as you. His chest rises and falls slowly, in a deep sleep. He’s more exhausted than you, his body fought all night. It makes sense he finally collapsed into a resting state; relaxed and dare you say, delicate. The branded ink shines subtly as his skin, miraculously still smooth, feels even warmer under your tender fingertips. Slowly, you trace invisible patterns onto his skin, mesmerized by the way he doesn’t pull away from you.

You feel guilty for snuggling up closer to him, knowing very well he isn’t in a conscious state for him to put you back in your place like all the other times. But you feel drawn in and addicted to his warmth and security in such a tender position.

Jimin inhales and exhales deeply, shifting his head when he feels your fingers tickle the nape of his neck. He shifts in his sleep, moving his body enough to force you to freeze. His hand reaches back, swatting away your hand as if it is a dainty bug crawling on him. But he realizes it’s nothing but a hand – your hand – and instead, he grips it. Pulling it around him and stretching your arm across his torso so that he can hold it against his chest. Jimin curls himself in a fetal position, dragging you flush against his back.

“Stop tickling me,” he murmurs in a groggy voice. He huffs out a small burst of air, humor laced with it.

Your forehead presses into his spine, a small smile creeping up on your lips.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Silence falls once again except for the subtle sounds of Jimin’s breathing. You could stay like this forever if you were able to. Ignore all responsibilities of life and stay with Jimin. Deep down, you secretly wish this. Having his protection and solace, bringing you solitude and clarity. You know that he is all you will ever need. He’s been exactly everything you need him to be in your life, even when times get tough and he guides you to do something you’re stubbornly against. It’s all for your well-being. Your overall happiness. Jimin has never steered you down the wrong path; even if it’s the path you wouldn’t pick yourself.

He is strong in many ways you aren’t. Rational and accountable. You know he will do everything in his power to let you have the perfect life and he will never leave you.

This feeling of unfulfillment with your heart always reminds you how a large piece of him belongs there. No matter how much room you make for your family and potential suitors that come your way. Nothing will fill the undeniable love you have toward your personal royal guard.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. This time with a different reason.

You’re apologizing for yourself. For the position you put yourself in even though you never win the fight with your emotions. How you cannot control this bond between the two of you and how you cannot change the way you feel toward him. You know you could never be with a wolf, let alone your own personal guard. The years between you doesn’t matter either. Jimin still looks as you first remember him, minus the added tattoos, scars and array of hair styles he’s sported. He has always been your guard, a figure to look up to, a brother, and a best friend without being them at the same time.

The connection you feel with Jimin is unexplainable. A natural magnetic draw you feel. A compelling force screaming at you that this – he – is exactly what your mind, body, and soul needs.

“Get some more rest,” Jimin urges as he squeezes your hand a little bit tighter.

“I am being honest with you,” you declare.

“So am I,” Jimin’s sleepy voice seeps through.

Your small tiff stirs Jimin awake. He turns slowly, still maintaining his hold on your hand as he faces you. The small puff of his cheeks shows you how tired he must be as his eyes remain closed. Jimin leans in, pushing your head into his chest as he rests his face into the top of your head.

“Rosemary,” he speaks out loud. He inhales slowly, admiring the sweet scent of the herb used to wash your hair every night. “It suits you so much.”

You feel a flush of warmth coursing through your body in such an intimate position. You have never been this close or tangled with Jimin like this before. There’s faint scars across his chest from what you can see, memories of past battle wounds that cut too deep perhaps.

“Are you hurt?” You question. Wondering how his body never correctly healed these specific marks.

“Not anymore,” he hums as he pulls you in tighter.

You can hear the faint beating of his heart as you twist your head to lay against his chest. It thumps calmly, like a lullaby whispering in your ear.

“Why are you here?” You dare to question. 

A heavy thought that’s been weighing on your mind for far too long. You want to thank him for welcoming you into his solitude and keeping you warm throughout the night. Even then, you hardly remember moving from the couch to this bed. Jimin sharing a bed with you doesn’t make any sense to you. Especially how he rests with no clothes on; assumingly you believe as the blankets cover more than your eyes can see.

“Warmth,” he responds. “I had to keep you warm. But I fell asleep.”

“Why are you still here then…?”

Jimin exhales deeply. He still rests as much as he can even with your quizzing questions.

“I’m pretending I’m still dreaming.”

“Dreaming?” You blink.

“Yes.” Jimin’s hand gingerly raises to stroke the side of your head, brushing off any stray locks. His palm is so warm against you, the contact heating you instantly. “A dream. Would you like me to leave?”

“No,” you blurt out faster than you expected. “I just don’t understand,” you try leaning back to look at his face.

“Princess,” he tsks. “How can I explain this?” He questions himself more than you. Jimin places his lips on your forehead and rests them there as he contemplates his words. “A wolf cannot be mixed with a royal. But you desire a wolf. And a wolf desires you.” He hesitates with the next sentence that leaves his mouth. “However, it will never be allowed. And thus… a dream.”

“You dream of this?” You ask, stunned.

“Don’t you?” He huffed a laugh. “I know you do. There are times that I can read it all over your pretty face. I can feel it too.”

“I-I,” you feel flustered. Your feathers fluffed every which way as Jimin speaks so carelessly of such a sensitive subject.

“I know how you feel for me,” he states. “I’m sorry you do. Even when I try to keep you on the right path, show you your responsibilities and guide you to your title's destiny… you found a sanctuary in me.”

Jimin continues to stroke your face with his thumb, his nose breathes out hot air against your forehead. He caresses you tenderly, holds you dear to him as if he is afraid to let you go.

“I’ve… I have always loved you,” you confess. Swallowing thickly as your throat closes up with emotion. Jimin allows you to slide your arms around him again.

“I know. I can feel everything you feel,” he sighs. “Your happiness. Your sadness. That painstaking broken heart every time you’re forced to live your reality.”

He smiles softly against your skin, peppering small kisses where his lips rest.

“I also feel the way you can’t control your emotions. How you constantly battle with what’s right and wrong. How not a single person draws your attention more than I do. I can’t really explain how I can feel these things,” he tilts your head to look down into your eyes. “It won’t make any sense.”

In the soft morning light, his features are more admirable. His skin glows beautifully, like a natural highlight illuminating off of the edges of his face. Jimin cracks open his eyes, only slightly, to peer down at your innocent expression. A face he’s seen for many years after being scolded or pressed for answers. The beauty in his eyes, that crisp amber hue, shifts a shade darker as they land on your parting lips.

“Jimin, I don’t want this to be a dream.”

You’re honest about it. The aura of intimacy is fueling the room so purely, it’s nearly smothering. Jimin allows his walls to break down for you to enter; let’s you in his space even when it goes against everything the two of you know.

His thumb flicks your bottom lip, feeling the soft flesh under his digit. He can feel the natural draw, how his body is aching with a tantalizing need to kiss you. To have you, just for now, before he must go back to reality.

“I’ll do anything for you,” he declares as he looks down at you sadly. “I devoted myself the very first moment I saw you.” His breath shakes as he lets out a breath he was holding.

“Princess,” he begins, the small curve of his lips upturning. He knows this is dangerous, it’s not allowed. Years of pining and rejecting you, fearing the system of the world and the way of life, he’s taking his one and only opportunity to be selfish. A thing you know so very well. Jimin leans down, lips nearly brushing yours, “Please forgive me.”

Your lips press together in a gentle embrace. He pours his unannounced love for you with this kiss; all those years of pent-up, hopeless desires and unfathomable attachment finally burst through with the only way he can show you. 

There’s no way of telling how long your kiss lasts; and eternity sounds like an understatement. Your breath hitches in your throat, surprised by the act and realism of Jimin – the man you’ve grown to love throughout all these years – has committed such a sinful, yet delightful, treason for the sake of his own greed. The same act you do not disgust, appall, or dislike. You greet it, after a few moments of shock, with happiness. A passion of feeling what you pined for all this time. Acceptance, understanding, and need.

Jimin’s warm fingers run along the side of your face and down the length of your arm. “Pretend it’s just a dream.” He smiles in between kisses.

A subtle tear breaks the brim of your eye as you capture Jimin in a passionate, breathtaking kiss. You bring him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and tasting his tongue in your mouth. 

When it’s just a dream, you’re allowed to cross the lines of right and wrong. Do the things you want to do, impulsively or not. That’s why you don’t bother to wait when you desperately cling to him, tangling your soft fingers through his messy hair. You feel the way Jimin presses himself into you, not a care of his royal guard status or what your title is. He brings his love out to another being – you.

You feel the gentle pull of his hands at the lining of your padded clothes. There’s so much keeping you bundled, but he’s sure he can keep you warm with his body. His hands roam under the fabrics, feeling the touch of the soft skin of your hip. He skirts his hand up your back, pressing his palm onto you to drag you into him.

“Are you sure?” You question him as if you’re being fooled. Tricked into thinking this truly is a dream and not something you will remember.

“I’ve never wanted something so desperately,” he admits with no embarrassment. “So many times I’ve had to tell you to look away from me. Entertain these other suitors… It hurts. But I know I will always be there for you even if your feelings aren’t as they are now. Even if you didn’t feel for me. I can’t help that. I’m bound to you.”

Your eyes roam the expanse of his body that you can see against the pale sheets of his old mattress. His words send glee to your heart. Had you known this hurts him as much as it hurts you, you would do something about it. Find a way to make something work. There must be a way.

“I’m sorry for being so distant with you in regard to your emotions. But, I do it to protect you. I’m not right for you.” Jimin whispers as his lips reconnect with yours. A carnal desire brewing deep inside of him, no doubt inside of you too.

“Jimin,” you whimper against his mouth. The crack in your voice is threatening to snap.

“Tell me to stop.”

“Don’t,” you sniffle. 

Your head is a clutter of sensitive emotions ransacking your brain. Clouding your headspace as if you are in a daydream. But you accept it. Allow this illusion, real or not, to be as real as it can ever get.

You accept him and this moment of time.

The heat of Jimin’s body keeps you warm from the chilled air outside of the sheets. Slowly, he shifts to have you laying on your back as his body crawls over you. Jimin plants soft and wet kisses down your jawline to a sweet spot on the side of your neck, multitasking with the buttons of your thick clothes.

The second he is able to free portions of your body from the garments, his skin slides over yours. Touching every delicately smooth surface of your body. Rising goosebumps through each sway of his fingers across every inch. You melt into his touches, a quiet whimper and pleasant hum escaping your nose.

“You’re so beautiful,” he comments as he levels his head with yours. He takes a moment to peer down at your morning face, admiring the way you look even with a rough night. Jimin remembers your eyes the most. How genuine and curious they are. He reminisces about the first time; when a shot of an electrifying spark penetrated his entire being because of his imprinting nature… how it connected him to you for as long as you live. “I will never lose you.”

Jimin can feel the way your body speaks to him. How together all your nerve endings and atoms feel as if they join like a perfect puzzle. It leads him further to your core, trailing his hand tentatively as he waits for a clear sign for him to continue.

He presses himself gently against you, showing you his growing need for you. The hardened appendage pokes you like a soft tapping on a door, trying to be as polite as possible.

You take his face in your hands, pulling him down for another emotional kiss. You nod to him, giving him the clearing to roam your most secretive bits.

After removing the access clothing from your legs, his fingertips glide up your inner thighs. He shivers when he inhales suddenly, taking in the small whiff of your scent. Instinctively, and almost casually, you bend your knee to allow more access for him.

Jimin’s fingers ghost over your core, brushing against the edges before feeling the slick heat from your lower lips. He teases you at first but not on purpose. Jimin swallows nervously, fighting with his body to remind himself to take things slow.

He takes your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling at the plump piece of flesh as his index finger runs down your slit. You shutter with a breath of hot air blowing out, enjoying the foreign touch.

Unsure what to do with your hands, you begin to run them down his hard chest to mimic the similar style of approach he does on you. Though you’re halted the moment you hit his navel by his hand.

“Allow me to focus on you,” he requests in a soft tone. He raises your knuckles to his mouth where he plants a chaste kiss to them.

He suggests for your hands to remain away as he descends down the valley of your breasts. Each tender kiss he leaves to your feverish skin in the commute to your lower region has you squirming. You hoist the blankets over your body as Jimin disappears underneath them, taking the heat too. He’s able to maneuver skillfully between your legs, slotting himself neatly as you spread them wider.

You don’t get to see the way Jimin licks his lips when his eyes focus on your core for the first time. How your scent hits his nose at full force, reminding him how beautifully wet you’re becoming with the tension built up around you. His finger returns to you, sliding down your slit and nudging against your clit. It causes you to jolt, instinctively closing your legs around him as much as possible. But he keeps them open with his hands and body as he moves closer.

Peeking under the covers, you see the dark hair of Jimin sinking between the junction of your thighs. You capture the scene, branding it in your memory the moment Jimin’s mouth abruptly comes down on to your clit. You cry out, gripping the blankets in hard fists as his tongue languidly flicks over your sensitive bud as his finger teases your entrance.

“Shh,” he tries to tame you when he inserts his finger into you. You clench tightly, shift your legs even more as your body adjusts to Jimin.

He’s wondering what you’ll feel like if he inserts another, if it’ll pull another whimper and a moan from you. And he has to; to spread your entrance wider and stretch your walls open enough to allow him inside. Prepare your body for the intrusive thoughts bleeding into his mind of your body shaking under him with pleasure.

Jimin curls his fingers once he adds a second one into the mix, slowly pumping them in you at a steady pace as his lips caress your clit. The tip of his tongue flicks your bud so dangerously, it makes you cry out even louder and begins to disturb the silent winter morning air.

His free hand comes down to your waist to stop your hips from bucking into him. Jimin releases his mouth from you and calms his fingers as he hushes you once again.

“Quiet, Princess. Please.”

“Jimin, I-I’m-” You pant softly. Your chest shakes with the rise and fall and intense pounding of your heart.

“Don’t be sorry,” he interjects. Jimin slides himself up your body again while still securing his fingers inside your core. “I know it’s hard to not be loud.” He places a kiss to your cheek before finding your mouth, the taste of you still lingering on his plump lips. Gently, he adds a third finger into your entrance and captures your whine with a sealed kiss.

He uses this moment to experimentally widen your walls with the scissoring effect of his fingers. Fighting off the impulsive clench your body naturally does. When his thumb presses into your clit your body jumps.

Your hands rush to his head, combing through his hair as you fight to anchor yourself on something.

Jimin winces from the strength and harsh pull, but he doesn’t let it bother his actions. Instead, he is kissing your neck again as his hand wraps around your back. He lifts you up like it’s easy until you’re straddling his lap, legs still parted wide for him. Jimin removes his fingers from you, allowing him to push you closer against his hardness. The contact makes his neglected member flinch with excitement.

Your cheeks prick with sparks of warmth as you look Jimin in the eyes again. Both completely naked and in each other's own embrace. Your hot slick presses against his shaft and Jimin cannot help but use his hand to push you into him again.

The blankets have fallen around the two of you, leaving Jimin’s strong muscles to hold you upright on top of him and exposed for him and only him.

“You can’t tell anyone…” he begins as his lips lock with yours. “What happens here must stay here.”

“But what if I don’t want that?” You ask, catching your breath in between kisses.

“Want and need are two different things.”

“I want both of those though,” you exclaim. “I want and need you, Jimin.”

He silences you again, but this time with his tongue. He dives deep into your mouth, groaning with the taste of you that excites him.

“Don’t ever speak of this,” he reminds you. “You mean more to me than you can ever imagine. You’re special to me, Y/n. You will always have me.”

Your heart tightens in your chest as you hear his sincere words. Relief is an understatement. The reassurance and verbal notice of Jimin’s confession is enough to send you to cloud nine. His loyalty and dedication to your family's name isn’t the only thing he cares for. The importance of you and how you are something more to him sends your heart into eternal bliss. Maybe all it took is to finally hear it from the source.

“I’ve always loved you,” you declare as if Jimin never knew this himself. 

He nods, leaning in to capture another kiss from you as your hands tugs on his shoulders. Your mouths move together so perfectly, reminding you how you want nothing more than to do this for the rest of your life. Lightly, your clit brushes against his hardened and untouched dick. The sensation of how close you are to it sends excitement through your body, arousing you more as you desperately rock against him for more stimulation with his help. Your slick drips along his lap, making the glide easier for you.

You admire the tip of his cockhead pointing up toward you, silently requesting to be touched.

“Help me,” you whisper as your legs try to help raise you above him.

Jimin positions his cock when you’re hovering over him. Your arousal drips teasingly over him, dressing the mushroom head of his tip in a shiny coat. He breathes out a strangled breath as the curse word ‘shit’ runs out of his lips. 

Slowly, you drop down on Jimin’s cock. Allowing him to stretch you open as the first inches penetrate you. He holds you up, allows you to sink down at your own pace as both your mouths open with pleasurable surprise. A silent gasp leaves the two of you breathless as you sit flush against him, ignoring any prickling pain as your walls flutter around his cock. Squeezing and unsqueezing rigorously as your head tosses back with eyes screwed shut. Jimin groans with a string of incoherent words, muffled by the way he presses his lips into the side of your neck.

“Oh,” you whimper. 

Knees already threatening to buckle and morph into jelly, your hands hold onto Jimin’s sturdy shoulders when you look down between the two of you. There’s fascination running through you as you watch the way your breasts rub against his chest each time your body moves down his; watching the way he disappears inside of you and filling you up.

The two of you moan in unison as you experimentally roll your hips into him. Jimin’s fingers tighten around your thighs, jerking his hips up to meet yours. He keeps a leisurely pace with you as he wishes nothing but to make you feel pleasurable. You can feel the way your orgasm slowly builds within you as you hold Jimin’s head closer against your neck. A desperate way of holding onto something while you begin to tremble with sensitivity.

“Is it too much?” He questions as he holds you impossibly closer to his body.

You breathe deeply, clutching his cock with your walls.

“No,” you choke out. “I need more.”

Jimin pulls you off of him to greet your face with his. He lays you down expertly, letting your body rest soft against the mattress again. Jimin is able to hook his arm around one of your legs and gently lifts it higher, testing the new angle and watching the way your face contorts with pleasure. 

You cry out his name as you feel his cock run across a specific spot inside of you, making your toes curl and back arch. The sparks in your body flying like lightning in the sky.

There’s a tightness in your stomach that shoots down to your lower region, alerting you of your approaching orgasm. Jimin notices from the way you shake with each thrust he gives. He holds your legs wide, allowing deeper access to push into you as his abdomen flexes every time his body bangs into yours.

“Like this?” He breaths out, a glimpse of blue shining from his eyes.

“K-keep… Y-yes,” you moan, feeling him hit every mark with this new angle.

Jimin lowers himself down to catch your lips with his, closing your mouth and muffing your noises to the best of his abilities. He absolutely loves hearing the sounds of your whimpers and pleasure, but he’s not trying to allow everyone else to hear them.

Another quick and particular movement of Jimin’s hips has you coming undone beneath him, bucking your hips up to match his thrusts as you squeeze tight around him. You feel the way your nails dig into his shoulders as you shake uncontrollably as Jimin continues to thrust through your orgasm. The sounds of your bodies colliding heightens with squelching noises, your dripping arousal coating his entire pelvis and leaking onto the sheets below.

With a few more sharp thrusts, Jimin pulls out of you and spills his seed onto your stomach. Dressing your smooth skin with strings of milky residue. You catch the ending bit, watching the way his cum spurts out of his cockhead as Jimin presses his pelvis down, using both him and you to squeeze his slick-hardened cock.

Jimin moans with you, still molding your lips together as he holds you close to him. When the two of you calm down from the euphoric sensations, he places his forehead against yours. He looks down at you with soft and serene eyes. Filled with love and adoration. This new sense of energy and vulnerability flows through him.

It’s happiness he shares with you when you both shyly smile at another. Ignoring all the heated labor breathes and dampened hairlines. You get lost in his eyes, wishing that the crisp amber coloring is the solution to all your worries and problems. And in some ways – they are.

“I love you.”

Jimin speaks calmly as he declares his emotions for you. His lips press into yours once more to seal his statement.

You can’t help but look up at him with watery eyes. You want to burst into a full blown cry when you see the way his eyes glisten too, but you don’t. Not wanting to spoil the moment of sincerity for either of you.

“I love you too,” you respond as you brush strands of fringe away from his softening face. It’s almost long enough to tuck behind his ear, which you scowl when you watch the piece fall right back in his face.

You share a soft chuckle with him as he moves slowly, making sure to not spread the mess on your stomach everywhere.

“I’ll clean us up and we can go back to resting for a bit.”

“Okay,” you smile softly. Your hands begin to cover yourself the further Jimin pulls away from your body. 

Jimin is quick to find a feasible cloth from the corner of the room and just as fast to return to you on the bed. He wipes you off first, as he should, before cleaning himself. He kneels down on the mattress as you try to subtly admire his entire naked body. Realizing he is still so unfairly beautiful without the suited armor and clothing he usually wears.

“I should have you know, now that you’re awake…” he huffed a laugh. Jimin slides himself under the covers, meeting your body with his. His arm crosses over your torso, hand running down the other side of you until he pulls you close by the waist. “Your family is safe. We defeated the threat last night and your castle will undergo some reconstruction from the damages. But everything is maintained again. I’m sure we will have to return within the day.”

The news makes you happy. The outcome could have been far worse in many ways. But hearing these words from Jimin is comforting. It makes you proud and grateful for him. You aren’t sure what the future will bring. How this dreamy secret must never be spoken about. What this could all mean now. But what you do know, is that he loves you too, and that is enough for now.

Moodboard credit: @/kth1

© 2023 All rights reserved under @kth1​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This TUMBLR and AO3 are the ONLY places my fics are posted.

[cherrysoulth]

Pissin' Our Pants Yet?- Chapter 2: Match in the gas tank

💕Pairing: Negan x Female Reader 

✏️Genre/au: Canon, Action, Smut, Sci-fi, The Walking Dead Fic

✏️Rating: PG 18+, explicit

📝Wordcount: 9954

⚠️chapter warnings: Shitloads of cursing, Gore details (zombies), Mentions of cults, mentions of cult practices, dictatorship status

<<< 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 1 | 𝕸𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 3 >>>

Hii! Did you stumble across this work? Glad you're here 😊 Please, let me know your thoughts once you are finished. Feedback keeps me motivated to write 😁

Note that English is not my first language, so please if you find grammar mistakes, let me know. :)

My gratitude goes to @alldevilsarehere90 for her hard work on beta reading 🧡

The silence quickly spread across the room. He wants that kind of social pressure on you. He wants you to feel the tension of the expectancy on you to give the right answer.

"I. Am. Negan." You say in a firm tone, as his eyes study you closely.

You realise now why he chose this moment and does not wait for you to be more integrated. Being Negan means giving up your identity to be part of the team, doing things as a group, as Negan would. If you were not Negan, your attack on George would then have been an attack on Negan. So, even if you don't mean it, it was the only possible answer.

"That's true, you fucking are!" he smiles at you with a wolf grin. "Let's see what succulent dinner my wives have made tonight. See what I was talking about? This will be my treat for your cooperation earlier. Still though! You can ask for anything you want." he says, rubbing his hands first then looking at you from up with a smile. "Anything..."

After that little moment of initiation, you follow him through the backstairs in the building, to the top floor where his chambers are. Two beautiful women in elegant black dresses are waiting, leaning on the frames of the double doors. They both look surprised to see you but not a single word leaves their perfectly painted lips.

"I'm going to make myself comfy and then I'll show you around." He gestures for you to come into his room but you stay in front of the open door, seeing how black and grey reign in his private space. It looks fancy, neat, with the big squared windows giving light to the space, it contrasts the general shadow staining the hallways on your way here. One that isn't real an illusion feeling towards the unknown. What is his life like when he is there, alone or with his wives? His mouth twitches, followed by a raised eyebrow in what you interpret as his way of saying 'Ok, don't come in then'.

You watch as he takes his jacket off and does the same with his white tee. Now, you can see his toned back and some tattoos on his body. An old marine unit sticks out in his upper arm, as the only one with known meaning for you. The rest seem pretty personal, you would need to ask about them to get more understanding.

He's not too muscular but sexy as hell. Gorgeous. It stirs those basic instincts in you, making you want to kiss his jaw, his neck, his throat going down his chest. Bite him, lick him. You gulp, without realising. As he grabs a clean piece of clothing and, he reprimands you , with fun, easily read in athe singsong tone.

"I know you're staring."

Instantly you look away towards the wife at your right, then to the left one. They both are giving you a pitiful look. You can only guess it's because Negan can't see them. You've seen their earlier reaction when he arrived: fear. Almost perfectly covert with stoicism but too familiar to miss. 'Why do they fear him? They are his wives. Is he mistreating them?' The idea angers you.

"You ok? Have you seen a ghost?" asks Negan, snapping you out of your thoughts, being just a few centimeters right in front of you. Then you notice the wives are back to staring to the front again, like two beautiful fallen angels protecting their master's door.

"Yes. I mean... No. What are we having?" you wonder in an almost childish tone following the rhythm of his earlier reprimand, letting him pass and following his way.��'Why is everyone so scared of him?' Then something twists in your stomach, sensing the danger possibly creeping in the shadows, from the nervous atmosphere suffocating the room..

As you take a tour through each floor, you can observe there's a general flow in the decoration, since his living room matches his quarters and at the same time is similar to the one in his wives' dormitory. Negan has shown you around when he's decided to 'ask' a subtle order- the wives to add another plate for you at dinner and the four women in that room glanced at you sympathetically while Negan explained to you how having his wives can make him feel human again.

Those stares on their own, would have pissed you off at another time but for some reason, it hasn't hit yet. You are not sure what that look is for, anyway. 'Do they think I'll become a new wife or something...?' you brush it off, not really caring about what they might think about you.

You see the general palette: black, grey, silver, champagne and gold. Except for the flowers on the table: red velvet roses. Perfect, as if they were specially chosen for an advertisement. Everything looks as if you are not at the end of the world at all but in a luxurious house, except for the windows that shake you back to reality. Dust stains them since there's no way to clean them from the outside at this height, but you can still see through them clear enough, the extension of terrain where walkers may lurk between the trees. The outside world that once was precious to look at from above but now just makes you think how harsh it is to walk in it. Truly harsh.

You are surprised by Negan's classy ways. You would have expected something more like a gangster-style kind of thing; sexist, with strippers or at least a pool bar. Maybe because some of his guys look like the kind that lack such classic taste, who prefer vulgar stuff and looking at a woman like they are meat, only made to please them. Maybe you are just judging by bad experiences, you don't know these people anyway, because you have found this place to look like a king's harem instead.

You used to like motorbike gangs. Most of them were cool, some were even hot. Usually, you got involved with a guy from a club and fled before things got too serious. Especially if they got emotional.

Your mum and dad had you and your brother at a young age as a consequence of their love. He was a police officer and ended up being shot when he tried to arrest a thief. That was one of the reasons for you to avoid falling in love with someone, that fear of people dying on you. But a broken heart was the main reason.

You had a boyfriend once and you fell in love blindly. The guy was too broken or you were too young and inexperienced to help him at all. You tried your best, god knows you did, but it all ended up as a useless effort.

He had been your first love, your first in all and that always leaves a mark.

You avoided drugs and guns too, even though you knew some people inside the gangs worked on that. You were just a hangar under or maybe they considered you a lay on, - although you never heard them use that word towards you because of your brother's association with a club. If they ever did though, you were deaf to stigmas in order to avoid being banned from entering a club, for causing trouble because of those comments. You needed to be thick-skinned when it came to male-centred clubs because sexist jokes or comments were almost the norm.

The percentage of drug dealers in motorbike gangs was really low but you happened to come across the wrong people a couple of times. Especially when it came to your ex-boyfriend's brother who was a dealer and a consumer. 'Even with that, those were easier times,' you think 'Or at least I didn't have that many life-threatening situations...' Your brother and your ex made sure to keep you away from trouble as they knew what was behind the curtains and wasn't shown publicly.

His wives are already seated at the table when you snap back into your current reality. As he properly introduces them to you, you notice that they are all dressed in black and high heels like the other two, they look ready for a party in the hot spot club of the moment. But it seems more like you are at a funeral with the kind of tension coming from them with the; 'I don't know what to say' hanging heavy in the air. You think that someone else, in your place, would feel uncomfortable because of it but you like them, like someone that enjoys a bird that's inside a cage. Beautiful creatures on display.

Some people feel the need to free them, and you are that type.

You do not understand how their relationship with Negan works. So far you get that Negan likes to explain things loud and clear, so you probably just have to ask a question, sit down and listen but you don't know if it is a sensitive subject to break on your first night in this place. Especially in front of his wives. 'Six wives!' you think. 'What is he trying to compensate for?'

The wives almost don't say a word during the dinner and you just add the necessary conversation just to keep Negan talking. You need to know more about him, how he thinks, how he moves but he starts to talk about the attack on his outpost and the fact that it has to be a group running around his territory without him knowing who they are. He seems pissed about it again by the way he chews on the bread. The ones he knows don't have enough nuts to defy him this way, according to him.

"So, honey, what have you seen before you arrived at the mall?" he asks before putting the fork with the last veggies in his mouth. The redhead wife, who presented herself as Frankie, looks at you for a second, seeming surprised.

"Do you want a full report of the situation surrounding your safe perimeter or do you want just the general concept? I'm gonna need some maps and our current location, to be able to do the first but in general, everything is screwed up. I've seen a couple of places where you can get interesting stuff, useless for other groups, useful here." you explain, while you play with a pea with your fork. Sherry, at this point, asks if you need to be left alone.

"No, it's fine, finish your dinner, sweetheart," he tells her in a gentle tone and then returns his attention to you. "So, hearing the way you said that, it sounds as if you had military training. Were you infrom the Army?" he asks genuinely curious but with his normal tone.

"My mum was. She taught me to be the tough person I am now," for the way he looks at you fully focused on your words, you understand he wants you to keep talking. "She died a few months ago, along with my brother and I left the group I was with. No hard feelings, no shit, I just couldn't stand to care about someone else... and see them die too." Then you see something in his eyes like it resonates with him, something deep down his soul that he shows from his heart, just for a second. Only to compose himself with that intimidating look that clearly hides his feelings.

'That ain't about the men he lost last night' you think. 'Who have you lost, big bad wolf?'

After the wives leave for the night, you two stay chatting about all kinds of things that come to mind. Just as if you were two friends catching up with each other's lives after a long time apart. At least that's how one could see the scene because there is a point where you can tell he's somehow letting his guard down with you with how he speaks and what he says, even his gestures.

It's not difficult to know, aside from his comfortable stance of walking around the world like he owns it, he's always aware of everything. And at the end of the day, it must be exhausting. Even with that in mind, you can't fully pity him for what he is and what he means to other people. There's also the fact of how easy he's making things for you, when you are sure there's others who have had to claw their way up to the top. Or so you've assumed from what George said.

It means he has something in mind for you. Things are never this easy and when they are, there's always something behind it. There's always a price to pay. Breaking the silence that's formed after your internal cognition, you excuse yourself, wanting to get back to your room and he insists on escorting you.

"It's been a pleasure, Negan. It was the best meal I've had in a long, long time," you say to him when you are just a few steps from your door. "Thank you. Have a nice sleep. I'm sure I will." you give him a little smile, more out of tiredness than gentleness.

"No goodnight kiss?" he questions, when you open your door, putting an arm against the door frame with a smile, while you enter backwards to keep facing him.

"I don't think so," you answer, arching an eyebrow while turning to take off your jacket and leave it draped on a chair.

"What a shame! Maybe tomorrow... Goodnight darlin'." he says, staring back at you for a second with that smile before he starts to walk back to the corridor. You stand there listening to his footsteps retreating as he walks away. It has been an intense day but at least tonight you have one less worry: you aren't going to wake up with a walker chewing your face off. The rest is just the same.

It takes you practically seconds to fall asleep once you get inside the covers and your head falls onto the fluffy pillow. Your chat with Negan lasted until the early morning, when everyone seemed to have gone to bed, quietness reigning inside The Sanctuary and you are very tired already from sleeping rough on the road. When you are alone, time seems to lose its sense. At some point you stop counting, now you can't remember how long you have actually been alone. You think it has to be at least six months for the seasons' change but that isn't precise enough.

No nightmares this time, but no dreams either. Just the whiteness of an empty mind. At least that is the sensation you feel before the knock on the door breaks your state of mind travelling nowhere and you wake up startled. For a second you panic 'Where the fuck am I !?' as you frantically search for the knives on your belt. Then you remember everything that happened the day before and breathe, as you stand to look through the dirty glass of your window. This new day is starting to break, you can see it in the faded purple and orange that stain the horizon. You wonder what time it must be until you remember the clock. Half past six. 'Why!?' you roar internally for whomever it's outside the door.

"What?" you voice out in a dry and moody tone as you open the door.

"Good morning sweetheart...Uuuh...Nice panties." says Negan, who's already resting his forearm on the door frame. You remember now that you took everything off and just left your panties and top on. 'Like he hasn't seen a woman in her underwear...' "You ain't wanna go out like that, right? So hurry up and get dressed, it's time to see what kind of cards you keep up your sleeves." you have already started to dress before he's even ended the sentence. "So," he says as he leans with his right side against the door following your every move with his dark eyes. "Today you'll go with Arat. You're gonna check the places you told me about yesterday. And that better be good, 'cause I'm coming too." he adds with a grin and some brow raising.

"I thought the king would be too busy doing..." you roll your wrist while looking away as if you are thinking. "Whatever kings do..." you conclude looking at him. "If they do anything at all," you add in a lower tone, as you turn around to pick up your backpack from the closet.

"You think you're funny, uh?" he says, faking offence. When you turn around his smile tells you he did find that funny.

"You look like you had a good fu--sleep last night." 'He's not your friend. His private life has nothing to do with you.' you think while tying your boots. To your surprise, there's no immediate response or a joke and when you look at him, he seems to be trying to decipher you as if you were talking another language.

"Are you... jealous?" he asks you as if having a lot of fun with the question. You know he is joking but you roll your eyes. "The candy shop is open for you too, darling. You just have to ask for your favourite sweet," he adds, bouncing his knees thrustingraising his pelvis, as a sexual insinuation.

"Jealousy is for insecure people or those who see a cheating bastard on their partner or cheat themselves. Besides...I should feel or have something for or with you for that to be even possible. So, no. I'm sorry for your ego but the answer is no." you answer, as you walk to the door expecting him to move aside to let you pass but instead he walks towards you. "I don't want sweets either. You can get decayed teeth." 'I can be metaphoric too, you know?' you add for yourself.

"I know I'm growing on you. Since the moment we met," he tells you, with a hot voice that runs chills down your spine. 'What if I do? It doesn't mean anything is gonna happen.' you say to yourself. He gets so close, his mouth is almost touching yours. "Besides...We do have something." that thought gets lost in your mind when you feel his breath on your mouth and kiss him, letting passion do its own work.

You put your hands around his nape between his deliciously warm skin and his leather jacket. Your lips smoothly caress his and you feel the wetness at the centre, inviting the caress from the tip of your tongue before you deepen the kiss. Then you stop for a second, without letting him go, just to take his lower lip between yours. Just after a second, you're back to attach your mouths again. Meanwhile he grabs you by the thighs to put himself between your legs, then moves to press your back against the wall. But when he puts his hand under your top where it meets your hip, something switches inside your head.

"Ok, ok, ok. You proved a point here." You say, breathlessly. To that, he lets you down softly.

"I'm not sure about that. I think I could keep with this all day long...Just to make sure you get it." he says without moving, proudly looking at you from above, with a mischievous smile.

"I don't think that's gonna happen." then you recall that's what you said last night. 'Be more true to your word if you want to be taken seriously.' you tell yourself. "What I mean is, stop playing with me. I don't want this mess. Just be with your wives and leave me out of it." Just as soon as you say that, you leave your room with the devil hot on your trails if chased by the devil.

Minutes later, you ask the first Saviour you find in the hallways where to go to find Arat because all corridors are so similar you are not even sure where you are anymore. You find her near a truck. Negan is already there, bouncing and giving orders while some jump in vehicles and head out. As soon as you reach Arat, Negan gives you two maps and instructions, acting as if you are just any other Saviour. Exactly what you want, even though you still have the taste of his mouth in yours and it's driving you insane.

It's been too long in abstinence and he's like the red juicy apple for Eve.

You and Arat are meant to go to the head of the convoy, just behind Negan's truck. There are another four trucks that will take other routes with him, to be able to check other spots near the one that's been chosen for you; the abandoned school, to try and find out if there's anything interesting.

When everything started, the schools were used as camps for the special forces because of the open spaces and many classrooms. So there could be something left behind.

But you don't get that lucky. After expecting to find a good load of guns, it seems that the army left only a few men here. As far as you can see, they were attacked by walkers while they were trying to move the few survivors to the military helicopter. You two start clearing out the outside from the last walkers wandering around and decide to leave the inside of the building for later, in case a herd decides to appear and you lose the chance to pick up the stuff that's waiting outside for whoever wants to take it.

You start checking the place for any weapons left on the floor and any car that might still be useful.

"This one is fine," you say to Arat after checking a four-wheel engine but after looking for the keys in every place inside the car, it comes up empty. "It needs a jump starter, the keys are nowhere to be seen," you tell her, then notice she isn't near anymore, searching for her you see she's putting a couple of assault rifles and some ammunition inside the cab of your truck while she keeps an eye on where you are.

Then, both of you walk to a unit for medical supplies in sync, you open the door like the SWAT would do and a walker comes out after a few seconds, falling through the stairs. Just to find himself stubbed with a throwing knife. You two enter and check if there are no other walkers inside. The place is clear and kind of clean, with only little stripes of skin stuck to any sharp edge as if the walker has been moving around the room attracted by something that's been outside.

"Pick up three plastic boxes." Arat orders, so you walk outside directly to the van.

"Kyle, do you see anything?" you ask through the radio to one of the Saviors. His mission is to look after you and Arat from a highway road next to where you are. He's using a sniper to see more accurately if anything moves around to the camp.

"Two lost souls, no horde. I see many walkers through the windows of the building. Be safe." says the man cutting the communications.

When you two have put the medical supplies in the back seat of the truck, you two decide it's time to check inside the building.

You two stay in front of the door for a few seconds before pushing the entrance open. The hallway is clear all the way along the school, as you move around to take the fire extinguishers and other supplies that were left along the walls. Mainly boxes with basic camp supplies such as; torches, batteries, pillows, blankets, disposable medical outfits and masks that you two put on a metallic trolley. Next to it, you notice an exhibitor with yearbooks and trophies. Taking everything to the truck that Arat has now moved to the front of the building to ease the work.

Once you've emptied the corridors, you two move room to room from the entrance all the way back to the rear doors.

The library is full of books but there's only one body sitting at the study tables with a bullet wound in the head and a handgun still held by his unanimated fingers. Taking the gun and checking there's still bullets inside, you place it in your backpack. You also check inside the librarian's desk and find a gold handwatch and a bottle of Nina Ricci perfume. You place them in your backpack too. On your radio, you notify the scavenge party that's with Negan, about the books on the next channel. The man on the line says they'll pick it all up later. Somehow you expected Negan to answer but you shake yourself out of the thought.

'That can only end badly. Stop thinking about it.'

You meet Arat at the entrance as she walks carrying a box towards the truck. There you take the watch out of the backpack and place it between the sheets inside of it, taking one of the material bedding with you back inside the library, to cover the body with it.

"Why am I not surprised?" says Arat leaning on the door frame. "Don't bother, he's going to be left outside. We don't waste time burying people." You are not surprised because it would be a task that never ends if you buried every single dead body you found. But you still leave the body covered before following her.

As you open the science classroom door, you're met with a huge walker, coming at you, desperate to eat your fresh flesh. You stab him in the cerebellum through the jaw with your hunting knife. But before you are even able to open the lab cabinets, you hear Arat's footsteps approaching you.

"What are you doing here?" she asks impatiently as if you are wasting time.

"We need to pack this stuff, it can be useful for someone who knows how to use it."

Arat raises her shoulders in response. "Fine. But leave it for later, let's keep going. I've found the rest of the supplies in the gym but there's some dead-not-so-dead there." she says.

You take your knives from your belt and nod. You two walk the hallway side by side and push the door open with opposite feet. She kills the first walker with her hunting knife and you throw your knives putting three others out of their misery, as she kills another one from further away before it even has time to come her way. You kill the last one left with your own hunting knife.

"Good job." she congratulates you, as you move to pull out your knives from the putrid skulls.

"Thank you," you nod, as you clean them with a rug hanging from the edge of a bed. There you notice a couple of bodies between the lined-up bunk beds, shot in the head. When you look around there's more. Placed exactly like that. What you hate the most about it, is that it doesn't phase you. Something that would have kept you awake at night almost three years ago, doesn't affect you that much anymore. You've stopped trying to see the person behind the corpse in order to keep your sanity but they were people and they were shot before turning.

"At least they didn't suffer," Arat tells you from behind as she picks up a box.

"But why would they do this if they had supplies?" you wonder. She stops for a second and looks around, then towards the supplies.

"You saw what happened with the helicopter, maybe there were too many of those things around and they thought it was the best they could do." she says as she places a box in your hand. "The ones we've killed just now, they weren't shot. So they didn't have enough bullets to defend themselves and there was definitely not enough food to feed this many people."

"They thought they would starve to death because of the walkers and decided to end it before that," you reply in understanding. Some bodies were chewed on by the ones that died in other ways. "The ones we've found in the other classrooms were locked from the inside..." you tell her as you two walk down the hallway. You can only imagine why. "We should park the truck next to the emergency door, we'll go faster. I'll go pack the lab stuff and I'll take it to the gym."

While she manoeuvres the van, you manage to open the cupboards and fit a first cardboard box full of test tubes and other glass materials. You decide to leave the chemicals for later and run to pick up the trolley from the entrance to place the boxes in it and go to the gym. While Arat places some supply boxes filled with dry food and other survival supplies, you position your boxes in the gap behind your seats. Pulling up the folding bed to be able to place them next to each other and avoid piling them up. Then you jump out to help her with the boxes and a defibrillator that was in the gym instead of the medical unit, for some reason.

When everything is on the back of the truck you two take a walk around the playground at the back of the building, directed to where the four-wheel is so you can drive it to find the rest of your group. That's when you find something you didn't expect in the slightest; a flamethrower. Without thinking twice about it but knowing you probably shouldn't have, you aim it at the school bus, which is already a little bit tatty and shoot against it.

'I might never get another chance...' you think with a smile on your face.

"Did someone hate school?" you hear Negan from the radio in a fit of laughter, probably watching the scene from the highway too, and in a matter of seconds Arat appears.

"I wouldn't have guessed this would happen today. Now, I know you're having fun, but, stop playing with that shit. I want it." he says, the last part with a stark, authoritative tone that reminds you which position he holds above you all.

You don't answer to the radio but roll your eyes as Arat gets down from the cabin and walks towards you, along with the radio in her hand and a cheeky smile. When you start to walk towards her, you hear a weird noise, like metal cracking and you two drop to the floor just as an explosion bursts behind you.

"Are you psychotic!?" asks Arat, not smiling anymore and still on the floor. The noise of flames and metallic parts falling around is almost deafening

"What the hell just happened!?" you ask, eyes wide open in shock. Your confusion clears, thinking you were being attacked before you realize what you've just done.

"You did it, you silly bitch!" she says laughing from the depths of her lungs. "What are you surprised about!?"

When you look behind, the bus you've just burned is all messed up with pieces of it surrounding you. You two were lucky to not get badly hurt or winding up dead by the shrapnel. You just have a few cuts, the same as Arat.

"Was that supposed to happen!?" you ask even more surprised now that you understand the mess you've just made. She shrugs her shoulders.

"Are you guys ok!?" you hear Negan's voice over the radio.

"We are heading in your direction, are you under attack?" says Dwight, getting on the frequency. You hear the sound of their engines in the distance.

"Negative. I just bombed a school bus!" you say, starting to laugh. "Oh my God! That was...fun," you say as you keep laughing.

"How old are you? Ten?" Dwight replies, trying to sound serious but you can hear in his tone he's actually amused. "Be careful that's sure to call the attention of the walkers," he warns, cautiously.

"Don't be such a pussy, Dwight! You think I'll let the ladies be eaten like a red velvet cake by those tasteless pieces of shit?" says Negan. "Not on my watch," he adds, with no reply from Dwight. Not that he expected one, of course. "Coast's clear, ladies. Pack whatever you found and get hell out of there 'cause we can't see shit through the woods."

"Yes, sir." you hear Arat answer dutifully through her radio. "Seems like we are done here," she tells you while turning towards the truck.

You put the flamethrower with the rest of the stuff in the trunk and make sure everything is safe inside for the journey. Then you head to the road following her with the car, you see through the mirrors that some walkers are arriving at the place.

'What counts is not the amount, it's their position and they are coming from everywhere.'

"Negan, you see that?"

"Hm... Yeah. It might be risky just for some books." he says. "Boys, turn around, we'll pick up the readin' if we drive by. Another day," he orders.

When you two meet with the rest of the convoy, you find Negan staring at you as if he's going to lecture you like an undisciplined child. Instead, he just checks what's in the back of the vehicle to have an overview of everything.

"Well done! That's a good load!" he says, with a smile that doesn't fool you or anyone who knows him. The tension in his voice says otherwise, and you are unsure if he's even trying to hide that fact. When he gets near his car, you realise that he's having the courtesy to wait for you two to be alone to say whatever he needs to. From what you've picked up from Arat, Negan's very public about everything. So it has to be bad. "Alice, you'll drive with me. I think we have to discuss some of the rules again." Just like that, without giving an option, he jumps inside his car and puts the engine on.

You hop in and wait for some shouting and blaming but instead, he remains silent for a bit

.

Come as you are by Nirvana sounds on the music player masking the silence.

"What in the fucking fuck were you thinking!?" he says suddenly while looking at you sideways. "I'm good at reading people and I don't fucking think you are one of those kamikaze shit-fucks who don't give a fuck about dying or getting someone else dead. SO. Tell me, are you nuts!? 'cause I would like to know before I put someone else at fucking risk because of a sudden fantastic idea you might have..."

"Don't be an asshole! I might seem nuts to you but I didn't know that was going to explode like a fucking balloon!" you respond, rolling your eyes and turning your body towards him.

'Well, I kind of knew. But I thought it wouldn't look the way it does in films.' To that, he calmly pulls the car to the side of the road and with his arm out of the window gestures for the rest of the trucks to keep on their way.

"Ok, then you are just a reckless lady," he says, looking at you as he keeps gesturing. "You are out of the mission. No Saviours for you. I'll find you something to do inside. If that ain't enough, I can be a lot more of an asshole, just try me." he continues looking at you directly, resting his elbow on the top of the headrest.

"Hm, I think that's unbeatable. I think I'll pass, thank you," you say sarcastically, looking at the front quite angry. It takes you a minute to cool down a little and notice that he's right to be angry. Looking at him again, only to see he is giving you the 'no shit' look. "Oh, 'c'mon. I thought you had a sense of humour." you say with a tone still stained with sarcasm causing him to arch a brow, still not smiling.

Then he moves his arm and puts it around your shoulders, and places two fingers down your chin invading your personal space with his body, as he moves. He kisses you, somehow needy, causing you to melt as it turns deeper and sensual, starting to create tension in your lower body. You have the urge to straddle him but instead, you hold yourself back and try to keep up with his kiss. 'He is such a good kisser...' His tongue slides between your teeth and that makes you lose control, pulling him to you by the jacket and cutting the space between your bodies. At the very moment you are about to move on top of him, you hear the growl of a walker as it gets near your side of the car and you pull away quickly.

" 'C'mon baby don't run away again," he says, with a heated tone, almost sweetly, as well as a little bit frustrated. This time it's you who kisses him with your hands at the sides of his face.

"I'm not doing this here with a half-rotten undead dude trying to get into the car to eat our asses off. Simply not my kink." With that, you free yourself from his hold and make yourself comfy on the seat. "By the way, you better not look me down on me like another one of your caged birds or be sure there will never be another kiss for you from these lips. Just biting and blood," you warn him, meeting his eyes directly. To your surprise, he doesn't say a thing, instead, he chuckles and starts the car again.

When Negan pulls in at Sanctuary and you jump out of the car, you listen in to what Simon is explaining to Negan.

There's a place named Alexandria, where the people that killed the Saviours in the outpost live. Then they laugh about someone called Gregory and Negan gives orders to a group to go find those people the next day.

You take the chance to get away and head to the showers. It's not as if he will not know where you are if he wants to, you are aware of that. Even with that, you need some space from him. 'Don't let him play you around. You are stronger than that.' you think. 'It will be just for fun, no emotions involved' speaks your demon, very convincingly.

You step into the cubicle and turn on the shower, the water runs warm just a few seconds later. It falls over your body taking with it the dirt and sweat from your work with Arat. You wonder why you are letting yourself get so carried away with him. You don't even know him. Some of his character traits can be analyzed by his behaviour but you can't really know how he is without being too involved. He does not have friends, only subjects and that's exactly the way he treats them. 'How could I ever get to know who he really is?'

Negan looks like the kind of guy who knows where his place in the world is. Self-confident. But these kinds of things are usually the ones that get girls and women confused, what he does is what matters. How he treats you and the people that surround him, not what he says or what he tries to scheme. The wives' behaviour is a red flag and the smart choice would be to run away. As usual norm noone is ever an exception to the rule if they do it to another person they will do it to you, no exceptions.

Most people who need to exercise control above everyone around them are usually abusers at one level or another. You understand that Negan uses power to control people and also violence to punish those who don't follow the rules. It's an acceptable measure in extreme times like this but still, unacceptable if he overpowers his wives to make them do what he wants. Instead of running like your instinct and knowledge tell you, you choose to stay, thinking that it is too early to judge.

You come out of the shower all built up in your decision, then get dried and dress in the same clothes you wore the first day you came here. Clothes aren't so difficult to scavenge but someone's bothered to wash them and leave them folded over your bed. Thing that you appreciate since you've been in this placeset is, without any doubt, it's very comfortable. You finally put on your new boots. When you go out, there's no one in front of the bathroom but still you walk to your room stealthily. You come across Sherry who seems to go around just as careful as you do. For good or bad, you think maybe that's a sign from the cosmos to ask her some things.

"Sherry, can I talk to you?" she gives you a suspicious look, as if she thinks you're untrustworthy. "Please," you put your hands together, pleading.

"Sure, follow me," she says and, with an unsure look in her eyes, leads you to some back stairs that don't seem very busy. "Go ahead."

"It's about Negan. I need to know how he is." First, she seems troubled, then she looks around worriedly. "It's just that I need to know what happens when there's no one around," she seems confused at first but then her eyes turn a little more soft and you read sadness in them. Suddenly you feel disappointed about Negan as if you expected something better. "I mean, how is he with you when there's no one around or when there's just the wives with him?" you clarify, in case she's taken the question as you lusting over her husband.

"He doesn't hit us if that's what you're asking," she says, leaning on the wall behind her but looking at the ceiling. "But he has terrible ways to make you do what he wants," you look at her horrified and your stomach curls. "Well, I don't mean in a sexual way... He's against rape as you might know already and he gives us protection. He's a gentleman in that way but we're with him because that's all we could do or we had no other option." She explains to you her story, when her sister Tina, said she would think about Negan's marriage proposal. Her and her husband, Dwight, tried to escape, but Tina had died and they had no choice but to return, she had to marry Negan to save Dwight's life.

"So you two... Shit... That sucks..." you mutter. She just gives you a nod and you don't want to bring her down with memories.

"One way or another, he always gets what he wants. If you give it to him it'll make your life easier, believe me." She then explains to you about the other wives.

You are furious and want to face him, even though you know it wouldn't be a smart move. 'How can he be such a bastard to make people abdicate their will like that. He's a fucking dictator. I already knew that but he's definitely not a clean-handed one...' He has a full army with him so it wouldn't be very smart to threaten him physically to leave you alone. You are not getting out of this place, now you know for sure. It would be smart to do your best with the situation.

"Ok, thank you for your time." you say, softly.

"I'm sorry if I broke your fairy tale," she says genuinely, making you think that she thought you might be falling in love with Negan. 'If they think that, maybe Negan does too,' you think. 'That could be an advantage.' You don't say anything to her to make her think otherwise, instead you part, walking back to the corridor. Before the door to the backstairs closes behind, you hear the sound of a lighter.

You take your time, caressing the walls with the tip of your fingers. When you enter your room it catches you off guard that Negan's there, sitting on your bed with his left ankle on top of his right thigh and dropping the weight of his torso on his arms, tilted backwards. Lucille's resting on his lap.

"What are you doing here?" you ask him, in an annoyed tone sounding a little bit more pert than you meant to. "It's wrong to invade other people's privacy, you know?"

"The last time I checked, this was my fucking building and the questions were asked by me. Have we changed the roles? Because fuck, I had no fucking clue." he says narrowing his eyes as a way to intimidate you but when he sees that you don't change your expression, he looks at you like: 'What's wrong with you?'. Maybe he's being genuinely himself but he definitely hits a nerve. 'I can't just act like I'm dumb and let him get away with everything.'

"I'll just tell you this once: I'm not below you, more than an employee for its boss. And with this, I mean that I respect you and you respect me. Understood?" you say without any kind of fear, before he opens his mouth.

"What a nerve! How dare you," he replies, with a rough chuckle. It seems to you as if you have pointed out something obvious to him. You expected another kind of reaction but for some reason, he hasn't considered your claim a problem. Maybe it's because you are alone. You get that's your only advantage over all these people. "As I tried to make you understand, I have my tactics to make people do what I want but my only intention with that is to create a chain and order. Not to abuse my position of power."

'Liar.'

"When people follow the rules everything is fine, they produce and receive points for it but I don't intend to dominate what they do with the rest of their free time in certain terms. The same goes for you. There's also the fact, that I have a fucking soft spottingle for you, I think I've been pretty clear on that. But you are not bound to anything, sweetheart. Everyone has a choice, even if they take dumb ones."

'Do we? Do you even know how untrue that is?' That's just a bunch of lies but he really seems to believe his words so much, if you didn't know any better, you would believe him. It pisses you off.

"Till when?" you ask, frowning. You are so furious that you let your tongue loose. If he wants you around, he's gonna get what that means. "Until you get fed up and decide that there is something you can hurt me with to convince me?"

Sherry told you that's how he got three of the wives and you're definitely not accepting that. "I don't have a family, so you have nothing to grab me by the balls with. For now. Should I keep an eye on not making friends, so I don't make them a target of your anger when I don't do what you want?"

"Watch that tone," he warns, suddenly serious and sitting rigid on the bed, staring at you with a 'Be careful.' written in his eyes.

"What if I don't Negan, you gonna kill me?" you say expressionless, letting your hunger for balance and justice get the best of you. "Come on, do it, who the hell cares? Show me what you got."

He looks at you, furious, and stands closing the distance between you but you notice he leaves Lucille on the bed. He approaches you quickly and without warning, as he raises you by the thighs, kissing you. His lips own yours hungrily and makes way for his tongue to invade your mouth while backing you against the wall. His taste raises your skin in goosebumps and suddenly you forget that you're angry. His mouth descends to your neck and you lose the north. You feel that pressure coming down your stomach to the innermost part of your being but it is his hands moving towards your rear that shoot something inside your head and there's no turning back.

You slide your right hand behind his neck from inside his jacket, while your left-hand goes down between the two of you searching for the end of his white shirt. You slip your hand underneath and find yourself in direct contact with his skin. His toned torso tightens and relaxes with the movements of his breathing, his heated skin feels so smooth under your fingers.

You feel him hardening like a rock right against your centre, making you lose the relaxed rhythm of your breathing when he breaks the last of the distance between your bodies. You gently bite his lower lip, pulling it towards your mouth and intensifying the kiss. You feel like a drug addict about to receive a dose of your favourite high, except that this time it's superior quality.

You drag your nails gently over his abdomen, wishing to leave a mark on his skin as your hand travels lower to the button of his pants, while your lips stay moulded to his. You begin to introduce the tips of your fingers into the waistband of his underpants.

"You see I wasn't kidding, huh?" he says confidently, half-laughing in your mouth but making space between you so you can manoeuvre.

"Shut up..." you reply, stopping your hand from going further. You move your hands against his jaw as your lips explore his, parted, tongue sneaking inside his mouth to caress his with the tip, an invitation to dance. His tongue responds, twirling around yours, dominating the movements. He can't avoid grunting, as your hips push against him in pleasure.

He whisks you over to the bed, discarding Lucille out of the way but leaving her carefully standing against the bedside table. Then he liyes you down, like a fragile piece of crystal, appreciating the lines that form your body, focusing on the ones in his direct line of sight, the way your top hugs the sensual curve of your breasts. As his eyes grow with lust, his head is working on what he wants to do to you while he takes off his jacket and places it on the armchair in front of the TV unit.

As he walks back to you he stops for a second staring at the image of you leaning on your elbows watching his every move, studying the frame of his body, the straight, secure, yet relaxed, posture of his back. The way his white t-shirt hugs the width of his shoulders and gets a little bit loose at the end, insinuating an easily accommodating hips size, as tall and broad as he is. When your eyes set on his bulge his smile widens proudly, but your eyes soon move to his feet as he kicks his boots off, triggering you to do the same, eyes still fixed on each other.

"Wait." you ask, before getting out of bed, as he curiously watches your every move. You press the button on the door knob locking it with a click and turn on the music player sitting on top of a bookshelf next to it. It's loud enough to cover up the sounds Negan has been inflicting on you but not so loud to bother anyone.

"Come down to the black sea swimming with me ah-ooh uuh." you sing with it before you turn around walking back to him, circling him as you wrap your arms around his back and hug him from behind, kissing his back before gently grabbing his hand to leading him to your bed.

Your synchronized movements escalate from the foot of the bed to the pillows, with you moving backwards as he crawls with you until he's towering over you. He fits himself between your legs, pulling your hips towards him while claiming your neck. You gasp when you feel one of his masculine hands climb up your side to get under your shirt, raising up goosebumps in its wake. At this point, you know this is going to be worth your while.

'Negan's hot like the damn sun.'

Something visceral inside of you takes over your conscience and you practically wrestle him under you, flipping him over using your hips and legs. You yank off his white tee, frustrated by it obstructing your vision and toss it aside. Finally able to see the full glory of his chest and abdomen, covered in a decent amount of unruly dark hair until it trails down, hiding underneath his pants. The perfect amount on the perfect body.

'Shaved six-pack youngsters are overrated.' your mind defines.

Your red top slides up, slowly, as your hips roll over his hardness to the rhythm of the music. Making it all feel more like a strip tease. A little groan escapes his throat.

Your mouth attacks his neck, nipping and sucking hoping to leave purple love bites but you don't remain there before moving down his chest and stomach trailing soft and poisonous kisses full of desire. That is until your chin meets the edge of his trousers, you lift up to observe him; arms crossed behind his head letting you do as you please while enjoying the view.

Your fingers trace the form of his member, caged inside those tight black pants and his breath halts. Your hips settle over his just to see him react, as you move them teasingly whilst slowly unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. His hands grip your waist tightly before you stop moving them, then one hand moves to undo you too as the other keeps you firmly in place.

"In case you change your mind and go running, this is the moment to stop it. Please, don't play with me," he says and you feel a sense of wariness and frustration in his tone, disguised in sarcasm. He wants you so bad he's letting his guard down just long enough for you to hear that out.

'I'm far away from running, big bad wolf...'

Then he raises his torso and your noses rub against each other. "Oh! Turns out you can ask for things nicely..." you fake surprise. "Will it turn out that you are indeed a charmer, after all..." you say, your nose nudging his again before your lips meet his. Tenderly you bite on the lower with a slight smile, making him grunt a little.

'Fuck. Shit!'. You squeeze your eyes shut. 'This bastard is gonna make you fall for him!'

"Everything ok, babe?" he asks, worrying creasing his forehead.

Just nodding before going straight back to kissing him again, you hope that whatever is starting to grow inside of you for him will die as soon as you see his bad side for yourself. Deciding it's too late to worry, knowing that the fear transpiring all over Sanctuary isn't due to a one time incident but too many.

Getting to your feet at the edge of the bed and pulling his trousers off his long legs. 'Hell if I don't love his body and his height already...' your inner demon sounds, much to your dismay. As you toss them aside too in a mess on the floor, Negan's already sitting up at the edge of the bed, kissing your belly as he slides the fake leather covering your legs down to your ankles. He bites your hip bone making you shiver as you resume your seat on his lap, feeling his warm and full form now that there are not many clothes left between you.

"Do you have condoms?" you ask him, knowing this is the right moment to ask before you get too into it. Knowing if the answer is no you're just not going to do it.

'I should have asked beforehand...'

"Of course, darling." He reaches down to his pants and takes out a couple of condoms from the pocket.

'Great! He actually came here with the intention to get in your pants.' Somehow, valuing the situation, the idea makes you frown. 'Well, who's to blame you for giving into your urges at the end of the world. You could die tomorrow. Although with Negan around it doesn't seem likely.'

"Well, honey, as you may know I'm married to a lot of women." he responds to the expression on your face. "Not all married man take fucking care of this stuff as they should. But if you're gonna cheat, do it safely at least, don't bring a fucking disease to your partner or get your lover pregnant. You don't need to be too smart for the 'better be safe than sorry' shit." you understand his point and find it something to agree with. You rub him with your lower body parts to get him back in the game, although his erection hasn't ceased.

'Hell does he ever relax?'. You notice his body is slightly tense too, you put pressure on his shoulders as you keep grinding.

It has its effect, and you are soon under him as he takes your panties off. 'I guess we are done talking.' you think, right before he lures a moan out of you by attacking your neck, going down your body mercilessly. His teeth meet parts of your body that make your lower body tense, as if he knew where to bite and kiss. He's exploring every inch, getting to discover those little secrets that will make you ready for him.

Your arousal is quick, after who knows how much time since you've been touched like this but at this point you are raging and needy. He must have read it on your face because he rids himself of his boxers as he meets your eyes, pulling the condom open and down his length in no time.

'He knows what he's doing, damn if he ain't hot as hell!"

His tip meets your entrance without wavering from your gaze, attentive to any sign of discomfort,as he slides inside slowly. You notice you didn't quite size him up correctly before unless it's the sheer lack of sex thwhat has made you unprepared. The pressure of your walls trapping him inch by inch of his advance. Both of you seem to have forgotten how to breathe when his length is fully inside of you but he doesn't move, to your surprise. He seems perplexed somehow, with something clearly on his mind.

"Did I leave you drained of energy already?" you say in a mocking-like tone. "You should do more cardio Negan or you will die here-"

He cuts off your prattle with a quick push in before pulling out just as fast, with a smirk of victory. His face relaxes as he moves slowly, studying yours.

'He's trying to see if he's hitting the spot.' your mind babbles.He moves his hips with experience, aiming at the right angle, while grabbing your left thigh to hold you in place, making you feel like you are in heaven. His mouth meets your neck when you let your head fall backwards as your back arches. "Negan..." you whisper.

"M'Right here, babe..." he whispers against your neck. Your only answer are quiet moans. You can feel goosebumps under your fingertips along his back. His mouth meets yours between airy breaths as his pace accelerates, feeling his thickness hit just the right way.

"Oh my God..." your breath hitches as his precise movements build up pressure in your stomach, your impending orgasm looming.

"I know, darlin'..." he mutters in your ear as his pace increases, speeding up your climax and putting you over your limit, until you explode a shaking, quivering mess underneath him. Faster than you ever have and more desperate, as your nails trail sharp lines down his back making him growl deep.

Taglist @stxrg4zer

I hope you enjoyed this. Let me know your thoughts and reblog to let it spread 😊 See you soon! ~

[missamyshay]

2. 3. 5. 17. 18.

1 is answered!

2. How many works did you publish this year?

22!

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

Think it would have to be maroon, actually. I don’t know why. It just turned out to be exactly what I wanted it to be.

(Also have to add ATH because it’s a mammoth story and I didn’t know I was capable of writing a fic so long and complex.)

5. What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

Probably cheating because it’s not just one fic but the entire series of cycles I think. I know that most readers who are interested in The Bear are interested in the sydcarmy of it all but it surprised me that a lot of people were really interested in/touched by all the stories I wrote centred around the other characters in the show. And that all the lore I conjured up was so well-received.

17. Your favorite character to write this year?

Honestly? May Parker, and it’s criminal that I didn’t write her more. I should change that next year.

18. The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?

Wouldn’t say anyone gave me trouble per se. Peter Parker can be difficult at times, but only because it can often be a heavy headspace to be in. Maybe also writing characters from The Bear because getting to grips with the tone of a new fandom is always a challenge.

Writers Wrapped Game

[serendipitystyles]

Mercy

Pairing: Roommate!Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: Exactly 4,100

Summary: Having a roommate is hard, benign in love with them is harder. What’s hardest, though, is them not loving you back.

Warning(s): Mutual pining, sadness, both parties being lowkey dumb, sudden changes, a letter, absolutely no dialogue

A/N: This is my third piece for the Illuminate Masterlist!! I don’t personally like the way that this one ends, but I do like the fact that this is my first piece without any dialogue. I hope everyone enjoys it!! I cried writing it, but that may be just because I’m emotional. Hopefully it’s not too bad jfhdskaj.

Masterlist

Add yourself to my taglist here

Request anything you want here but be sure to read my guidelines first!

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Come talk to me about any and everything here!

*

You've got a hold of me Don't even know your power I stand a hundred feet But I fall when I'm around you

Having a roommate can be hard, that’s a known fact. You must get along with your roommate, communicate, and have compatible personalities for the arrangement to work. If any one of those things are off, the entire thing can fall apart.

Having a roommate is hard, but having clearly unrequited feelings for your roommate is even harder. There were multitudes of issues that came with this.

He couldn’t see you in your shared living space without his stomach tying itself in knots. When you were in the same room with him, close enough to where he could smell your perfume and hear you breathe, his heart goes into overdrive. It’s like his pulse is trying to get first place in the race, and he can’t slow it down for the life of him. Which isn’t always a great thing because he’ll get out of breath quickly and then he’ll have to go on the search for his inhaler because he genuinely cannot breathe.

It hadn’t started like this, Harry hadn’t always had feelings for you. But after living with you for almost a year, he had gotten to know every part of you. He had seen the ups and the downs, the good and the bad. He was there when you were laughing so hard that tears were streaming down your face, and he was also there when you were sobbing to the point that you almost got sick. 

He had seen you at your worst, but that didn’t mean that much to you. He was just a friend, a close one at that.

That killed him. More than anything, he didn’t want to be your friend. He yearned to be the person that you fell asleep with and woke up curled into. To be the person that got to show you the love and affection that you deserve. To get the privilege of loving you.

But he knows that the feelings are unrequited, knows that you don’t see him that way. At first, he had thought you could. That maybe, just maybe, you could have the tiniest hint of feelings for him.

But that thought was quickly squashed by the boyfriends, and the one night stands, and the crushes. All of which you talked to him about. He knows you, talking to someone you like about things like that isn’t something that you do.

Harry had spent a long time mourning something that had never begun, and then he realized that the feelings weren’t going to go away. He hoped and prayed that they would, but they never did.

So, he spent just about every single day wishing that he was yours, but never being able to say that he was. 

He spent his waking hours being constantly brought down by you. Not in a purposeful way. It’s just that as Harry Styles, the worldwide musical sensation, he was sort of used to getting what he wanted. He wasn’t cocky or anything, but he was confident in who he was. But there was just something about you that made him feel completely inferior, all because he wasn’t someone that you had feelings for.

Show me an open door Then you go and slam it on me I can't take anymore I'm saying baby

Living with Harry was pure torture. There’s no other way to put it. Living under the same roof with someone that you’re head over heels for, but not being able to show them is absolute torture. 

You had tried to tell him, tried to hint to him that you were into him. For a while, you would hug him more, would just go up to him and hug him at random times. You’d order him food when you ordered your own, even if he didn’t ask for it. You’d invite him to watch movies with you and then say you were cold so that you could share the blanket with him. 

He never seemed to take the hints, however, never seemed to understand what you were trying to say. At first, you thought ath he was just being dumb about the whole thing and not realizing that you were trying to show him how much you cared about him.

But then you pulled the timeless trick, the one that everyone used at least once in middle school, you talked about other guys to see if he got jealous. When he didn’t, when he just talked about them with you and gave you advice on how to get with them, you realized that it wasn’t just the fact that he didn’t see the hints, it was that he didn’t care. And that hurt more than you thought that it would.

After that, you were scared that you were going to act differently around him, so you closed him off a little bit, stopped dropping hints and just went back to how you used to be. It made everything feel weird at first, seeing as you had been acting that way for months. 

What really confused you about the whole thing, though, was that he seemed to not have feelings and to not care if you would date someone else, but every time you would bring someone to meet him, he automatically hated them. On any occasion when you were just lounging around the house, he would randomly come up to you and put his arms around you, cuddling into you and holding you close. For a while, he would always find a way to be touching you.

You thought that you would be happy that he was like that, but the mixed signals that he was throwing out were driving you crazy. You didn’t know how you were supposed to get over him, to accept the fact that he didn’t reciprocate the feelings that you had, when he acted the way that he did.

Please have mercy on me Take it easy on my heart Even though you don't mean to hurt me You keep tearing me apart Would you please have mercy, mercy on my heart Would you please have mercy, mercy on my heart

In all honesty, he knew that you didn’t mean to put him through the pain that you did. He’s completely aware of the fact that you don’t purposefully break his heart. You just don’t have the same feelings that he does, and that’s okay. He’s not going to beg you to love him. He just wishes that the pain of living with you and not being yours would subside.

There are a lot of things that he’s learned since the two of you moved in together. But the most life changing thing that he’s learned in that time is that not everything works out. And not everything can be fixed or altered to where it does work out.

There are just some things that aren’t meant to happen. He didn’t want to believe that for a long time, didn’t want to think that there are some things, some aspects of life, that are truly unattainable. He’s always believed that everything is possible, so for him to realize, and accept, that not everything can happen was a major step for him.

He thought that realizing that you were out of reach would make it easier to cope with the pain of unrequited love, but that’s not what happened in the slightest.

If anything, it seemed to make it even worse. He would look over at you while you were eating dinner or watching a movie together and he’d get entranced by your beauty. And then, ultimately, he would get sad and want to go back to his room.

The fact that you were so perfect, so wonderful and lovely, yet so out of reach killed him inside.

He found himself wanting to find a new place, to move out so that you didn’t have to deal with his pining (that he knew just had to be completely obvious) and so he didn’t have to torture himself by loving you and being so close yet so far away from you.

He ended up deciding against that idea, knowing that it would take you forever to find a new roommate that you liked and that you couldn’t pay the entirety of the rent by yourself. For a bit he thought about paying his half of the rent until you found a new roommate, but he knew that if he wasn’t actively using the space, then you wouldn’t accept his money.

And regardless of how he felt, he wouldn’t leave you to struggle on your own.

I'd drive through the night Just to be near you, baby Heart open, testify Tell me that I'm not crazy

You’d do anything for him. How does he not see that? How does he not care? 

In the time that you had been sharing an apartment with him, he had never once let you help him with anything. It was frustrating more than anything.

You caught him one night stumbling through the door at three in the morning. He was so clearly drunk, and by the looks of it, he wasn’t doing well. You tried your hardest to help him get to bed, but he pushed you away, claiming that if he needed anyone’s help, it definitely wouldn’t be yours.

The night, you had gone to bed crying, not understanding why he was so against you helping him. 

The next day, he didn’t say anything about it, and neither did you. He acted like there was nothing to talk about, and you just didn’t want to relive the embarrassment of being told that he’d rather have anyone else help him than you.

What you did to get that side of him, you couldn’t figure out. You hadn’t done anything to him at all, especially not lately. 

Maybe he just figured out exactly how whipped you are for him and he finds it weird. Maybe he thinks you’re crazy, maybe even a little pathetic for being so in love with him when he couldn’t care less about you.

I'm not asking for a lot Just that you're honest with me My pride is all I got I'm saying baby

There’s nothing that Harry hates more than hurting you. He hates himself every time the flicker of it passes through your eyes when he pushes you away. When he lies straight to your face and tells you he doesn’t need you. When he pushes you away.

He tells you that it’s for the sake of your friendship. That no matter what, he doesn’t want to ruin that with you. But the truth, the part that he doesn’t want to admit, is that he’s trying to make everything easier on him. 

He knows it’s selfish. He’s aware of the fact that he’s being rude to you for reasons that aren’t valid. He feels like an awful person for it, but he doesn’t know how to stop doing it. He wants to treat you how you deserve to be treated. He wants to stop making you upset, but he genuinely can’t figure out how to. 

He wants to tell you everything, explain it to you so that maybe you’ll understand. But Harry can’t even let his pride go. It always gets in the way of him making the right decisions. 

Usually, he can stop his pride from getting too involved in situations. He can stop it from ruining things. But here he was, hurting you, and not being able to fix it because of his pride.

Please have mercy on me Take it easy on my heart Even though you don't mean to hurt me You keep tearing me apart

You were indecisive. Always had been, probably always would be. This is the exact reason why you’re up at the crack of dawn debating the pros and cons of moving out. 

You don’t want to leave him, that’ll probably hurt the most. But there’s just so much that you can’t take anymore. You can’t handle him pushing you away more and more every time that you’re around him. You can’t handle the way the apartment feels empty even when both of you are home. You can’t handle the way that the silence is deafening because nobody ever speaks.

There’s a part of you that thinks - or more like hopes - that he doesn’t mean to hurt you like this. That maybe there’s just something going on with him that you’re not aware of. 

But the bigger part of you, the part of you that is thinking logically, believes that he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

Would you please have mercy on me I'm a puppet on your string And even though you got good intentions I need you to set me free Would you please have mercy, mercy on my heart Would you please have mercy, mercy on my heart

He was slowly going insane sitting in his room and not having the guts to just walk down the hall and knock on your door. Anyone else would have told you by now. Anyone else would have just gotten over themselves and told you how they felt. 

Why couldn’t he just get up and make his way to you? Why couldn’t he seem to make the right choice here?

For the past few months, everything had felt like it was being controlled by you in some way. It wasn’t like you were legitimately controlling his actions, but there was always that thought in the back of his mind asking what you would do or what you would want him to do. 

While lying on his bed, he’s aware of the fact that you would want him to just man up and tell you, that you would just want him to have the courage to go after what he wants.

For the first time in what felt like years, he goes against what he thinks you would wish for him to do. He’s relieved at the time. He’s so glad that he has the willpower to act the complete opposite of what his thoughts about you tell him to.

If he had known just how bad that one decision would have messed up everything, he wouldn’t have been nearly as relieved that night.

Consuming all the air inside my lungs Ripping all the skin from off my bones I'm prepared to sacrifice my life I would gladly do it twice

You feel bad for leaving him, for deciding to move out. But after thinking about it, the cons majorly outweighed the pros. 

That night, you decide that you’re moving out. You’ll pack your clothes and some boxes, load up your car, and have your friends come pick up whatever’s left. 

You don’t really want to leave without saying anything to him, but there’s nothing that you could say to him that you think he would listen to. He doesn’t even want you around him most of the time. There’s no way that he’d want a face to face about why you’re leaving.

So, you do the next best thing. You write a letter. You sit down at your desk and pick up your favorite pen. Pulling out your notebook, you begin to write. 

After you’re done, you take your clothes and the few boxes that you could get packed to your car. Before you say your final goodbye to the space that you’d called your mind for so long, you leave the letter on the counter next to the coffee pot. 

He’d find it in the morning, right after he woke up. You’d be long gone by then.

You shrug on your jacket and make your way out of the apartment, locking the door behind you and holding back the tears that had been threatening to surface since you had the initial thought of moving out.

Consuming all the air inside my lungs Ripping all the skin from off my bones I'm prepared to sacrifice my life I would gladly do it twice

He didn’t sleep well. His brain had kept him awake, coming up with scenario after scenario of how things could have gone if he just told you how he felt. More often than not, though, those scenarios ended up having a horrible outcome.

He trudged out of his room at the crack of dawn, knowing that once he woke up he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Not after how hard it was to get to bed in the first place.

The entire walk to the kitchen, something feels off. It’s like there’s something missing. He doesn’t dwell too long on it. He’s not usually out of bed this early. Maybe you’re still asleep.

When he gets to the kitchen, he doesn’t go straight to the counter. He stops at the pantry first, pulling out some crackers to snack on. He makes his way over to the counter to brew some coffee and the envelope that he’s faced with makes his blood run cold.

Why was there an envelope with his name on it on the counter? In your handwriting? And why did you feel the need to write a letter instead of just coming to him and saying whatever needed to be said?

He doesn’t open the letter yet, deciding instead to brew a pot of coffee and drink a cup. He knows that he’ll most likely need to be completely awake to read the contents of the letter.

Please have mercy on me Take it easy on my heart Even though you don't mean to hurt me You keep tearing me apart

You didn't know when he’d be up. You didn’t know when he’d see the letter. You didn’t even know if he’d read it. What you did know, however, is that you weren’t ready for the next twenty four hours. If he found the letter and decided to read it, he may text you to talk about it. Or even worse, he may not text you at all. He may just let everything die right then and there.

Your worst fear of the entire thing, though, was that he wouldn’t read it at all. That he would notice that you left and feel such a sense of betrayal that he would just throw out the letter. 

If he never read it, you wouldn’t know. Chances are, you wouldn’t know what he did in general. But there was a part of you that was wishing upon everything that he would read it. That letter said everything. And if he decides to read it and not want to say anything, then that’s fine. But the thought of his not reading everything that you wrote down was gut wrenching. You had poured your soul into that letter and left it for him.

Would you please have mercy on me I'm a puppet on your string And even though you got good intentions I need you to set me free

He took the letter back to his room after checking the house for you. You were gone. He had pushed you to the point of leaving. Had he really been that daft? Were you really hurting that bad? He had been so caught up in himself that he didn’t even realize that you were going through things of your own.

As he opens the envelope, he can feel his breathing get heavier. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to get through this.

He unfolds the papers that you poured your heart into and behind to read.

Harry,

By the time that you read this, I’ll be gone. I’ve thought about this for a long time. Thought about the pros and the cons of leaving the apartment. I know it’s awful of me to leave without saying anything to you, but I just can’t take it anymore.

I also know that it’s horrendous to tell you what I’m about to in a letter, but there’s no way that I could have been brave enough to say this to your face.

I’m in love with you. Like head over heels, wrapped around your finger, whipped. I don’t know for sure when it happened. I don’t know the exact day. I do know that there wasn’t one single moment that made me fall in love with you, it was a collection of every memory that we have with one another. 

It was the first time that I saw you. You were the most famous person that I had ever met, but I didn’t even know that. I’ve always stayed away from social media and there were a limited amount of people in my life. But you walked into that store that day and you were immediately the only person that I could see. You blushed at me, stopped and asked if I wanted something. I was so confused at the time, but now I understand that you probably thought that I was a fan. When I said no, you just smiled and went on with your day.

It was also the day we became roommates. You called about my ad (which probably was an awful way to find a roommate now that I think back on it, but I’m glad that I did it because without it I wouldn’t have found you again). You were so nervous. You looked like it was the most important meeting that you had ever been in. You impressed me with how nice you were.

It was all the times that you held the door for me. All the times that you put me first when you didn’t have to. It was every time that you let me borrow your clothes because they made me feel more comfy.

It was every time you’d look me directly in the eyes while we talked. I knew you were listening to every word that I had to say when you did that.

It was everything that you did for me. It was like every action was a piece of the puzzle that made me fall in love with you.

I’ve been meaning to tell you for a long time, but there was always something holding me back.

At first, it was me. I was scared that I’d ruin the friendship. That someone like you could never in a million years like me. I was terrified that if I told you about the feelings that I had, you’d be disgusted. 

Then, we were drifting. I don’t know if it was you, or if it was me, or if it was the both of us. But we weren’t the same that we were. We were different, farther from each other than we ever have been.

And then you came in drunk and I tried to help you. I tried to get you to bed. You told me you’d rather have anyone else’s help than mine. Anyone but me.

That’s what really pushed me. I couldn’t live under the same roof as you and be so helplessly in love with you and have you not even want me around. 

So, I made the decision to move out. I know that you’ll need to find a new roommate. I already have a few people who are looking for one. I’ll leave their numbers at the end of this letter along with their names.

This has gotten a lot longer than I ever intended for it to be, but the point is: I’m in love with you. And if you want to leave it at this, that’s okay. If you never want to talk to me again, that’s okay. I don’t need you to be in love with me. I just want you to be happy. Do what makes you happy, H.

All the Love,

Y/N

I'm begging you for mercy, mercy Begging you, begging you, please, baby I'm begging you for mercy, mercy Ooh, I'm begging you, I'm begging you

By the time that he finishes the letter, there are tears freely flowing down his face. He can’t hold it back.

You love him? God, he messed this up big time, huh? 

He doesn't know what he can do to fix this, but he knows where to start.

I read your letter, saw the numbers and names. Thought I’d tell you that I don’t want another roommate. I just want you.  Can we meet somewhere to talk?

He puts his phone down, waiting for the reply that he may never receive.

*

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little piece that I whipped up :))

If you have any questions or comments, you can send me an ask here!!

Permanent Taglist - @spidey-reids-2003​, @jackiehollanderr​, @scarletsoldierrr​, @thewayilookatbacon​, @parker-barnes-af​, @lost-in-the-stars03​, @kisses-holland​, @josiemara​, @god-knows-what-am-i-doing​, @fanficscuziranout​, @akila-stilinski​ @babebenhardy​ @write-from-the-heart​, @slytherinambitious​, @miraclesoflove​, @quaksonhehe​, @a-different-brand-of-beans​, @dummiesshort​, @sleepybesson​, @sunshine96love​, @itstaskeen​, @wotamelonsugar​

Harry Styles Taglist - @alwayshave-faith​, @hufflepuff-always-and-forever​, @sucker-09​ @just-chillin-out-in-me-box​, @macksmedicine , @wendaiii​, @theresthingsthatwellneverknow​,

[tswaney17]

so I maybe found IDBTWY (i hope i put the letters in the right order my brain is so slow HAHAHAHA) on ao3 and binged all of it (+ the prequels) last night and WOW😩🥵🤩🥰!! It was beyond amazing! You are an incredible writer and the whole story was so engaging and well balanced (the angst:fluff ratio 😤👌🥵) and I COULD NOT STOP READING PLEASE IT WAS SO GOOD??? This should not be allowed I am not okay and how dare you release something THIS GOOD😩🥰!!!! You are SO TALENTED I love this story sm please I can’t believe you’re letting us read this for free TYSM☺️💛. Something about Elriel AUs just hits different and this one >>>>?? NEXT LEVEL! I loved it so much please I just wanna reread immediately but I will wait until I have enough time to reread here and give you the praise and appreciation and hype that you deserve because this story is INCREDIBLE. Truly. I AM OFFICIALLY A (n even bigger) TSWANEY17 STAN😌😌💛💛!! Because I remember you def also wrote Across the Hallway which is ✨burned into my head✨ because I’ve read it so many times I’m not even sorry😌😌😌. Definitely my comfort story too, everything about it is so warm🥰🥰 (except for that very smutty chapter😈)!!! As you can tell I’m definitely not the writer here🤣. But I hope I managed to convey at least a little bit of my gratitude and appreciation for you and your writing🥰🥰. You’re amazing and I think IDBTWY has dethroned and replaced Across the Hallway as my fav Elriel fic because I am HOOKED😌😩😭!! TYSM for writing it and I’m so glad I found it💛💛💛

P.S. No pressure at all, but I was just wondering if you had a schedule for updates? Just so I remember when to pop back but all good if not🥰)

P.P.S. I was already convinced the story was CHEFS KISS TOP NOTCH but then you made Cassian and Elain sing Exile🥺🥺. A Taylor Swift stan and your name is Taylor too I am crying!!🥰🥰🥰🥰

Oh my god...

This is... I just... 🥺🥺🥺

I have no words for how incredibly wonderful it felt to read this. I'm totally not going to be able to express myself well enough for you to understand how much my heart swelled to get this.

LITERAL TEARS IN MY EYES!!! 😭😭

I feel like I say this all the time, but I never expected to get the kind of reaction I have over this fic. Here I was, just a random newbie to the writing world (at least for public consumption), and to get the amount of amazing and responsive feedback I've gotten has just been astronomical to me. You are the reason I push myself to continue and improve my writing. I seriously cannot say thank you enough, but truly, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Across the Hallway was my first baby. It was this random idea that I just needed to get out and when I look back on it (knowing that it needs A TON of edits), I can't help but smile at how far I've come. IDBTWY has been an absolute joy to write (yes, even when everyone yells at me to just make them kiss and to stop hurting them 😈).

I can't say I blame you for letting IDBTWY dethrone ATH, because, in my heart, it has too. I don't usually give myself kudos or talk about things I've done that make me proud, but this fic is one of the proudest things I've ever accomplished (-ish, since it's not done yet).

As for a schedule, I tend to post every other week - but I'm not always successful. Life gets busy, ya-know? For notifications, you can always subscribe to my fic blog (I only reblog snippets and actual fics, nothing else so it's not obnoxious), @tswaney17fics. Or you can subscribe to my ao3 account as well. Those will probably be the best options for keeping up with my posts.

I am a HUGE TSwift fan! I had the idea of Elain and Cash singing Exile together for months before that part came out. It just hit me as Elriel, especially in this fic. But more ironically, my last name also begins with "Sw", so we're almost the same person… 😬 (A girl can dream right??)

Anyways, this answer has become ridiculously long, so to summarize, THANK YOU x1000000000000000000! It truly meant everything to read this. 💙💚💜

[literallyprentissstwin]

𝚒'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. - 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸

request: yes I no

characters: Sonny Carisi x Y/N Y/L/N

others: Lieutenant Olivia Benson, Detective Fin Tutuola, Detective Amanda Rollins, ADA Rafael Barba, mention of Peter Turner (the suspect), Dr. Langford as well as some nurses

category: angst, hurt/comfort, crime

warnings: talk of kidnapping, mention of torture, violence and rape, slight mention of PTSD

previous parts: part 1 

A/N: thank you all so so much for the amazing feedback to the first part of this story <3 it literally means the world. i´m having a good time finally being back writing and your feedback is more than welcome. i decided to make this story a three parter since part 2 would otherwise have been too long. so i hope you´ll stick with me and this story till the end. this is my first ever SVU fic and i´m really happy with it so far. again, feedback is very appreciated. don´t forget that english isn´t my native language, so please be kind. i do make a lot of grammar or spelling mistakes and it´s okay to point them out :) now, enjoy reading part 2!

if you wanna be tagged in my upcoming SVU fics, let me know <3 

It felt like the world around Sonny Carisi was moving in slow motion. 

Ever since he and Amanda had found Y/N in that dark, cold, hell hole, the world around him stopped turning for a while. Things started to slow down and time seemed to pass painfully slow. 

It felt like an eternity until the squad had finally arrived at the hospital. 

And here they were, patientily waiting in that small, overcrowded waiting room. They´ve already been her for two hours; Barba had joined the group ten minutes after they arrived at the hospital. An uncomfortable silence and tension lingered in the air. Sonny, as usual, was pacing around the room, while Fin and Amanda sat next to eachother and watched their friend, knowing that there was no way that they could get him to calm down. Barba and Liv were standing at the door of the waiting room, trying to have a quiet conversation, while also eyeing their nervous friend. 

The more time passed, the more people were leaving the waiting room. Sonny started to to become impatient. He stopped pacing for a minute before he started to speak. 

“What is taking them so long?”

“I´m sure they´ll gonna be out here soon.”, Liv tried to reassure her detective, which wasn´t working. 

“Nobody tells us anything. We´ve been here for almost five hours and yet, we still haven´t seen a doctor or a nurse who could update us.”, Sonny said, growing more and more frustrated. 

“They are all doing their jobs, Carisi. Them not coming out and updating us doesn´t have to mean a thing. So let´s just calm down and take a seat. Your pacing is driving me crazy and it doesn´t help you or Y/N.”, Barba reasoned with the man. Sonny tried one last attempt to talk back to him, but decided against it, when he saw the ADA giving him his famous glare. Letting out a long sigh, the detective sat down next to Amanda, who put a comforting had on his shoulder. He just hoped and prayed that Barba was right and that everything would be alright. 

It took another three hours until the long wait was finally over. 

“Y/N Y/L/N?”, a doctor asked, as he entered the waiting room. 

“Yes, that´s us. How is she?”, Carisi immediately wanted to know as he and the rest of the squad stood up from their seats and gathered around the young, lanky doctor. 

“I´m Dr. Langford, I performed the surgery as well as the examination on Detective Y/L/N.”, he introduced himself before Olivia began to speak up. 

“I´m Lieutenant Benson, Detective Y/L/N´s boss. How is she?”

“So far, her condition is still not where we want it to be, but as for right now, she´s stable. She suffered a concussion and she had at least five broken rips which had caused an internal bleeding which we were able to stop in time. Moreover, she has a sprained ankle and wrist as well as lots of bruising all over her body. Also, she´s been very dehydrated and malnourished.”, Dr. Langford started to explain. 

“D-Did you find any signs for a sexual assault?”, Amanda dared to ask altough she already knew the answer to this. 

“We did find signs for a sexual assault, yes. There´s a lot of bruising on her upper inner thighs as well as other indications for a forceful entry. We already did a rape-kit since Detective Y/L/N consented to it.”

“Apart from the physical damage, how is her psychological condition, Doctor?”, Barba wanted to know. 

“Well, to put it out bluntly, she´s a mess. She´s very jumpy and flinches at every touch or every noise she registers. We needed to sedate her to actually examine her. Up until now, she hasn´t really spoken yet; she´s still in shock and seems to try to stay distant. I would recommend for her to see a shrink as soon as she´s well enough for it. She´s severely traumatized and it will take a lot of time for her to heal and to deal with everything that happened to her.”, the young doctor explained, giving the squad a sympathetic look. 

“C-Can we see her?”, Sonny asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his face all pale and emotionless. 

“Detective Y/L/N is still under strong medications and out for most of the time. We don´t want to put her under immense stress, but we also think that seeing familiar faces might help her cope with everything better. So yes, you can see her, but I would recommend only one to two persons at a time.”, Dr. Langford said before his beeper started to ring, “if you´ll excuse me now. Nurse Monica, could you show those detectives the room of Detective Y/L/N?”

The nurse nodded before she joined the group. 

“Thank you, Dr. Langford.”, Fin said. 

“It´s my job, detectives. If there´s still anything you need, don´t hesitate to reach out to me.”, and with this, the man disappeared. 

“I think Carisi should go see her first.”, Amanda suddenly suggested to the group. 

“Yeah, Carisi. Go and check on our girl.”, Fin agreed and patted the detective on his shoulder.

“You´re sure?”, Sonny asked, looking ath his friends. 

“Go, Carisi. We´ll be waiting here.”, Liv said, carefully pushing the man towards the door of the waiting room. 

“Okay...thanks guys.”, Sonny quickly told them, before he followed the nurse to Y/N´s room. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The first thing Sonny was confronted with when opening the door to Y/N´s room was silence. 

Silence and the beeping of a maschine that helped Y/N with her breathing. 

As he opened the door further, he finally saw her. 

Unconsciously laying in her bed, almost as pale as the bed itself. She seemed so calm, yet so vulnerable. 

Carisi saw all the bruises and bandages and his for once calm demeanour grew angry again. 

How could someone hurt another human being so much? The detective could´nt wrap his head around it. 

Carefully, he walked closer to the bed, grabbing a chair while doing so and taking a seat right next to her. Equally careful he grabbed her hand and held it in his own. He was so scared to hurt her even more, so all he did was holding this hand and he would not let go of it. Never. 

“I-I´m so so sorry, Y/N. This is all my fault. I should have never let you walk home alone.”, he began to talk to her, the tears he had been holding in for so long finally starting to fall. 

“I-I-I..I just hope you´ll be able to forgive me.”, he continued, “please...please wake up.”

A moment of silence fell between the couple, but not for long before Carisi decided to continue rambling. 

“God, Y/N. I´m a mess. I mean what am I gonna do without you if you don´t come out of this okay? I can´t live without you. Please. I´m really sorry...”

“C-Can you please stop saying that?!”, a voice suddenly said and it took Carisi a minute to realise that this voice belonged to Y/N. 

“Oh my god..Y/N. Can you hear me?”, he said, quickly moving closer to the bed. 

“E-Every single word you said.”, Y/N hissed, finally opening her eyes, but immediately closing them again due to the light being too bright. Slowly, she tried to open them once again, blinking a few times to adjust them to the brightness of the light. Sonny scooted even closer to the bed, carefully squeezing Y/N´s hand, smiling in relief when he saw Y/N´s beautiful eyes wide open. 

“Hey...”, he whispered, the smile never leaving his face. 

“Hi..”, Y/N said back, a small smile tucking at her lips as well. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Been better, but I´ll survive. How are you holding up?”

Sonny laughed. “You´re the one laying in that hospital bed and you´re seriously asking me how I am?”

“Well...yeah..”, the woman said. 

“You´re unbelieveable, Y/N.”, Carisi still laughed, “but to answer your question: I´m better now that you´re awake.”

“Good.”, Y/N smiled, “I´m sorry.”

“Oh, Y/N, no. There´s nothing you need to be sorry for, you hear me? It wasn´t your fault.”, Carisi tried to reassure his partner, as he carefully sat down on the bed. 

“Neither has this been your fault, Sonny.”, Y/N replied, looking the detective straight in the eyes at which he sighed, “thank you..for saving me.”

“That´s what friends are for.”, Sonny said and smiled at Y/N. 

Another uncomfortable silence spread between the two detectives. There was still so much Sonny wanted to tell Y/N, but yet, he found himself unable to put his thoughts into words. Also, the hospital wasn´t quite the ideal place to confess your love to someone, no. This needed to wait. Sonny´s first and most important priority was to make sure Y/N was okay and safe. 

For now, that´s all that matters. 

“Where´s the rest of the squad?”, Y/N wanted to know, pulling Carisi away from his thoughts, breaking the unbearable tension between the two of them. 

“They are all outside, waiting to see you. Even Barba is here.”, Sonny explained.

“Wow, I´m starting to feel kind of special now.”, Y/N laughed, but immediately winced at the pain shooting through her body.

“Woooah, you okay?”, Carisi asked. 

“Ugh, yeah. Just peachy. I just forgot for a second why I´m actually in this hospital bed.”, Y/N answered through gritted teeth. 

“I´m gonna get the doctor.”, Sonny said, immediately making his way over to the door. 

“Carisi, no, I´m fine.”

“You´re far from being fine. Please, let me help you just this one time.”, the man begged. 

Y/N sighed. “Fine, but only this one time and only because this pain is killing me.”, and with that, Carisi rushed outside to get a doctor to look after Y/N.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

15 minutes later, the doctor was still in Y/N´s room checking her out, while the squad was, again, waiting in front of her door. Before Carisi could open his mouth to start argueing again, Dr. Langford exited the room. 

“Doctor? Is everything alright?”, Fin wanted to know. 

“Yes, Y/N is doing pretty good right now, all things considered. She´s in a stable condition. We gave her a mild pain medication considering the fact that you might want to get her statement later in the day. Her now healing ribs are causing her a lot of pain right now, but otherwise, she´s okay, physicall.”, the doctor explained, “she actually asked me to send in all of you. I know, I said one to two persons at a time, but she seems well enough to meet you all right now.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”, Liv said before all of them entered the room. 

“Hey...”, Y/N whispered as she saw her whole team plus Barba come into the room. 

“You have no idea how good it is to see you.”, Amanda said as she carefully came towards Y/N and tried to hug her as careful as possible, checking if this action was okay with her. Since she didn´t flinch away from her, Amanda took this as a sign to actually hug her friend. 

“It´s so good to see you too.”, Y/N smiled, turning her gaze towards Rafael, “to what do I owe the honor of you being her as well?”, she joked. 

“There´s no place I would rather be right now, Y/L/N. I´m glad you´re still with us.”, Barba replied truthfully. 

“Me too, Counselor, me too.”

“How are you doing?”, Liv asked from her place at the foot of Y/N´s bed. 

“I´m okay. The pain killers make the pain kind of bearable. But I´ll live.”, Y/N answered. 

“Good, because the squadroom would have been pretty quiet without your rambling.”, Fin joked. 

This went on for another 10 minutes. Everyone was happy to see Y/N alive and okay, they all just wanted to distract her from what happened to her, but they all knew that eventually, she had to talk about it and much to Liv´s dismay, she had to be the one to break the bad news. 

“You know, Y/N, I hate that I have to do this, but in order to prosecute Turner correctly..”, Liv started to talk.

“...you need to know that happened, I know. I-I just didn´t think it would be that soon.”, Y/N finished Liv´s sentence, kind of getting anxious. 

“I´m sorry, I really am.”

Amanda and Fin immediately got up to leave the room, while Carisi hesitated to do so. 

“Sonny, it´s okay. You can go.”, Y/N tried to reassure her best friend to leave the room, although everything inside her screamed at her to tell him to stay. But was she really ready to let him hear the truth of what had happened to her?

“Are you sure?”, Sonny asked. 

“Yes, it´s okay...really.”, Y/N reassured the man and gave him a weak smile, which he returned before he left the room as well. Y/N sighed. 

“Okay, so where do you want me to start?”, Y/N wanted to know. 

“Right at the beginning. Tell us about the night he got you.”, Barba answered. 

“Well...Liv had told us to go home and get some rest since we´ve been trying to catch Turner for days now and we hadn´t really had time to rest. Carisi....I should have listened to him, he has been so concerned. He always talked about how it was unusual for Turner to go MIA and not kill within two days. He said that he thinks that Turner might have something planned. He was worried about me, because I fit the victimology perfectly, but I didn´t think any of it. He wanted to walk me home that night, but I´ve told him that I appreciate his concern, but that I could take care of myself. I reassure him that I would text him as soon as I got home...”, Y/N started to explain. 

“But that text never got to him, right?”, Liv asked.

“Um, no. I didn´t even make it into my apartment. He must have followed me all the way from the precinct to my apartment complex. Turner got to me right before I could open the door to my apartment.”

“What happened next?”, the ADA wanted to know. Y/N started to get more anxious at this question. 

“I woke up in that basement. He took my bag, my phone, my gun, my badge. He took everything away from me. The first time I saw him for real in front of me was when he first started the live stream for you guys. Right after that..he..he r-raped me for the first time. I-I tried to push him off of me, but he was just way too strong. So I just lay there and let him do this to me.”

“Hey, listen to me. You had to do whatever it took to survive this, okay? What happened to you was not your fault.”, Olivia tried to reassure her detective, carefully placing her hand on Y/N´s, at which the young woman flinched. 

“Yeah..anyway..from there on, everything just passed by in a blur. He came to bring me food once a day, but I never ate it. This was when he started to get more violent. He thought I was ungrateful and a shame for my family and the NYPD. He took all his anger out on me. I didn´t even dare to fight back, I was just so freaking scared. I-I´m such a coward. How am I a detective for the NYPD  who faces the filthiest of scumbags every day and yet, I can´t manage to fight back and protect myself.”, Y/N said, starting to get herself worked up. 

“I think we should take a break right here.”, Barba suggested, sensing Y/N´s discomfort. 

“I-I should have just listened to Sonny. For once in my life, I should have just admitted that I was wrong, but no. I refused to believe the people who cared about me and instead I put them through hell and back.”, Y/N continued rambling, getting even more worked up, so that her heart rate on the monitor started to speed up. 

“Y/N, listen to me. This wasn´t your fault, okay? Please, you really need to calm down or otherwise, you´ll just hurt yourself.”, Liv tried to reason with her, but it seemed like her words didn´t get through to her. 

Y/N had a flashback; she was back in that hell hole. Her heart rate continued to speed up. Liv stepped closer to the bed, carefully trying to put her hand on Y/N´s shoulder. Y/N flinched at the contact. 

“NO. GET AWAY FROM ME.”, and with that, Dr. Langford and a few nurses came rushing into her room. 

“You need to leave, NOW.”, the doctor yelled while a nurse pushed Liv and Barba out of the room before closing the door. Everything went silent. 

Turner had been right. This was far from being over. 

SVU tag list: 

@lclb13 @playbucky @thefifthmaraud3r @misssirenlove @smolpersonbigworld @illegalcerebral @ultrarebelheart @briannareneea985 @imaginecrushes 

[will-on-the-internet]

Important Notice

IMPORTANT NOTICE- PLEASE READ (Hey, it’s Charlie, a friend of Will’s here whose writing a message from her to address some things that have happened on here tonight. Please read!)

Hi, I’m sorry, but this isn’t a good post today. It’s not happy nor is it a nice post, but it needs to be said. Since posting a certain piece last night, I’ve gotten a lot of hate, directedd at me liking that character, and I have a bit to say.

Just becuase someone else likes a character you don’t, does not give you any reason or excuse to send them hate messages, anon posts with really mean things, or even D*ATH THREATS! 

Now I get it, you might think it’s a joke, you might think you’re protected by a computer screen and no harm is going to come to you, and you might think that you have the right to say really nasty and awful things to someone you don’t know just because you don’t agree with them. But you’re wrong. 

Look, I write for a lot of character at the moment. I write for Jonathan Byers, I write for Steve Harrington, I used to write for the 100 and for other shows and movies. And a lot of people didn’t like my stuff. That’s fine. A lot, and I mean a lot, of people liked my stuff, that’s great.

And most days when I write I have a lot of fun, and I love reading the feedback that people give and I love seeing other people enjoy what I write. That’s why I do it.

But tonight, I’ve had to block 5 people on tumblr, and 2 on wattpad, which is a whole other thing. Out of the five on this app, 2 sent death threats because I write for Jonathan (which is wild to me). 3 others sent me really gross messages telling me to stop posting anything Jonathan related, and when I asked why, they said that I’m a freak for liking him.

Not gonna lie, did make me want to delete my tumblr blog for a good moment, and my wattpad account too, which I’ve spent 7 years on making books people actually love. 

So, if instead of sending really nasty things to my blog that you know are going to hurt, could you possibly just scroll on instead and keep your thoughts to yourself? Please, I’m begging you...

I’ve deleted the app from my phone and I’m going to keep writing and doing requests because that’s what I enjoy, and I’ve blocked those who have sent things. 

For now, I think I might be a bit quieter than normal, just need a moment to reset my system and the brain. I’m going to go back to watching West Wing and wishing Jonathan Byers was real or that I actually felt comfortable writing for him again...

Love and thanks, 

Will!

(P.S, a Jonathan Byers, Steve Harrington or even Monty Green would be great right about now...)

[scarlettsandmaroons]

Chapter 9 is simply amazing!!! I really like you♥ ❤ ღ ❦ ❥❣. But I think it's not for nothing that chapter 9 is so positive and cute. Is sadness waiting for us in chapter 10?

thank you my dear!!!!!! you are super kind. but i meaaaan, maybe it's not. maybe chapter ten is fun and they get a happy ending BECAUSE YAY WE'RE LIKE 4 CHAPTERS AWAY FROM THE ENDING.

[forzalando]

Wedding Plans ~ Fred Weasley

OH GOD OH GOD I CRIED THE WHOLE TIME I WROTE THIS. thank you to @potter-harryjames for proofreading and telling me what she thought because I was nervous to post this. I hope you all love this as much as I do, it was so cathartic writing this like y’all don’t even know.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Requested: no, I just like to torture myself

Y/N: Your Name

Warnings: sUPER MEGA FRED FLUFF, mentions of d*ath, mild language (i think just h*ll, sh*t, and d*mn)

Word Count: 2.5k

P.S. there are time skips and they are indicated by a break! also please let me know what you think! i love feedback, whether you say something in a reblog, message me, or comment! i love you all :) 

As sweat dripped from your forehead while you worked in the yard, you cursed the season of summer. It was the end of July, and the blistering heat was definitely getting to you.

“Fred, can we please take a break?”

“Bloody hell, yes, I thought you’d never ask.”

“Me? I was waiting for you to ask! I thought you wanted to have everything finished before your Mum came home so she wouldn’t be too upset that you and George ate all of her baking!”

“Well I did, but it’s so damn hot out I don’t even care anymore. I’m so glad we live above the shop and don’t have a yard to deal with.”

“Tell me about it. I can’t believe your brother wanted a summer wedding and now we are stuck making sure the yard looks perfect for his bloody ceremony.”

Fred threw an arm around your shoulders as you walked into the Burrow to grab drinks and relax. He poured you a glass of lemonade, sat down, and then pulled you onto his lap.

“We definitely won’t have a summer wedding. I think May is a nice month, don’t you?”

“I always thought a May wedding would be nice…” you said confusedly as you turned to look at your smiling boyfriend.

“Brilliant, me too, darling. May 2nd sounds perfect to me.”

You had to admit, it was an absolutely perfect day for a wedding, even if you preferred late spring weddings. You had almost torn your hair out due to stress, but everything was worth it when the tent was up and when you saw the looks of pure bliss on Bill and Fleur’s faces when they were finally pronounced husband and wife.

You sat in a chair as the reception began with a dreamy look on your face, when suddenly you were pulled from your seated position and tugged towards the dancefloor.

“I didn’t know you wanted to dance with me, Fred,” you giggled as he swayed back and forth.

“You look absolutely breathtaking, my love, of course I want to dance with you; but first I had to escape the clutches of my relatives.”

“How’s Aunt Muriel? I see she left you a little lipstick stain on your cheek.”

You quickly wiped the bright red stain off of his skin and replaced it with a light pink mark that matched your own lipstick.

“There, that’s better. Now all of Fleur’s Veela cousins will know that you’re taken by me.”

Fred chuckled at your statement and leaned in to leave a quick but passionate kiss upon your lips.

“That was just in case there were any blokes out there who might have thought about asking you to dance.”

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you as you rested your head against his chest and wrapped your arms around his middle.

“Y/N, when we get married, promise me it won’t be this big of a fuss. I just want my brothers, Ginny, your sister, and my Mum and Dad. Is that alright?”

You sighed contentedly and answered him.

“Of course, Fred, whatever you want.”

“Wicked.”

“Y/N? Does your sister still hate George?”

You let out a bark of laughter at his incredulous question.

“No, she doesn’t hate your brother! She used to have a massive crush on him, that’s why she was always so mean to him during school!”

“Oh…how did I not notice that? Does she still like him?”

“Fred, she’s been dating Seamus Finnegan for a year now! I swear I’ve told you that before.”

“Right, sorry, I just thought it would be weird if the best man and maid of honor couldn’t stand each other so I had to check.”

You rolled your eyes at him and mumbled “alright, Fred” before going back to folding laundry.

“Hey love? Peonies are your favorite flower right?” Fred shouted from the kitchen.

You walked in to find him writing a letter home to his parents and you chuckled as he stood with a puzzled look on his face; worried that after almost six years together he couldn’t remember your favorite flower.

“Yes, Freddie, peonies are my favorite, but it’s October, love, they’re not exactly in season. They’re a late spring, very early summer flower.”

“I know but I want Mum to plant a bunch and apparently you’re supposed to plant them in early October.”

“What do you want peonies for, love?”

“I don’t want them, but we’re going to need them sooner or later so I figure Mum might want to make sure she has lots and lots of good ones for our wed…”

“Frederick Weasley, what sort of game do you think you’re playing? Your mother is worried sick about her two youngest children and you want her to plant flowers for me as some romantic gesture?”

“No game, sweetheart, Mum has been gardening and knitting a lot to pass the time since she’s so worried about Ron and Ginny. I was just politely asking her to plant your favorite flower.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, and he gulped.

“Besides, if I was planning a big romantic gesture for you, it would involve fireworks and chocolate and your favorite cake and – “

“Why don’t you just show me a big romantic gesture in the bedroom? Right now?”

“I think I can do that!”

And with that, all talk of peonies and romantic gestures ceased to exist for the time being.

It was Christmastime at the Burrow, but it definitely didn’t feel that way. The atmosphere was far from joyful; Molly spent most of her time in her room so that no one would see her cry, and the fake smile that adorned her face when she came out broke your heart into pieces. You and Fred had spent the past few weeks at his childhood home to help Molly and Arthur during this despondent time while George took care things of the shop.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were off hunting Horcruxes, and Ginny was at Hogwarts being taught by deatheaters and attempting to rally what was left of the DA for when the inevitable culmination of this war came about.

You all feared for their lives, and with no direct communication with your missing loved ones, a heavy blanket of sorrow surrounded each of you at all times.

You sat in front of the fireplace with Fred’s arms wrapped around you tightly.

“Fred,” you mumbled, “what’s going to happen? What if not all of us survive this war?”

“Y/N, your sister is safe, she’s staying with your Mom’s muggle cousin in America. My family…we’re tough, strong, and stubborn. There’s no way any of our family won’t survive.”

Even though Fred’s words calmed you down a bit, you still felt the weight of worry upon your heart. He softly stroked your hair and you felt yourself slowly drifting into slumber, but before you could fall completely asleep, Fred’s voice whispered into the silence.

“Besides, there’s another Weasley wedding on the horizon and no one is going to miss it.”

“I didn’t know Charlie found a girl…” you mumbled as you finally slipped into unconsciousness.

It had been discovered just a few weeks ago that you and the Weasley family were aiding Harry, and you were all forced into hiding, taking refuge at Aunt Muriel’s.

Fred and George spent most of their time focusing on selling their products via mail order, which left you to your own devices.

For whatever reason, Aunt Muriel had a record player, and your prized muggle record collection had been packed into your things when you moved into her house.

The sound of Elvis Presley’s voice singing “Can’t Help Falling in Love” filled the small room you were sitting in, and your eyes closed as you swayed to the music.

Fred had left George to find you, knowing that you were the source of the music that was echoing throughout the home. He took you into his arms and danced with you the same way he had at Bill and Fleur’s wedding.

A tear trickled down your cheek and Fred, observant as ever, noticed you were crying before you had a chance to quickly wipe the tear away.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“I just…I always pictured myself dancing to this song at my wedding, but now I’m not so sure I’ll even live long enough to get married.”

“Don’t talk like that, Y/N, you’ll live through this war. We both will. And we’ll dance to this song at our wedding, and any other song you want to dance to.”

“You talk an awful lot about our wedding, Freddie.”

“It’s not talking, it’s planning.”

The two of you spent the next hour dancing around the room; long after the song had ended and silence filled the air.

You saw the blast knock his body tens of feet away from where he had been standing. The ringing in your ears causing you to lose focus of the situation at hand for a few moments.

Once you could see straight, you started to search among the rubble, searching for a familiar flash of red.

Suddenly, a hand reached out and grabbed your ankle. You whipped around to see Fred Weasley laying on the ground with his infamous smile plastered on his dirt covered face.

“Fred!” You cried as you helped him off the ground.

“Fred Weasley, you absolute moron, I thought I lost you. Don’t you ever scare me like that again or I swear to Merlin I’ll never let you leave the house for the rest of your life!”

You let him pull you into his chest and your tears soaked his jacket, but neither of you cared.

“It’s May 2nd, Y/N, I can’t die on May 2nd! That’s going to be the date of our wedding!”

“Shut up and kiss me Fred,” you mumbled into his shirt, paying no attention to what he was saying due to the fact that you were still in shock from seeing his body flung through the air.

“Oi,” George called from nearby, “there’s a bloody war going on, there will be time for snogging later!”

With one last kiss to your mouth, you and Fred took off running, throwing curses and hexes at anyone that dared to threaten your friends or family.

The entire Weasley family was at the Burrow; it was a bittersweet reunion. Although you were all overjoyed that everyone in the family had survived, you also mourned the loss of all the friends you had lost in the brutal war.

You especially were grieving the loss of Remus Lupin, who had become a father figure in your life ever since your parents passed away during your fifth year at Hogwarts. You excused yourself from the living room and trudged up to Fred’s old room. His belongings had been brought there from Aunt Muriel’s, and the two of you had yet to return to the apartment above the shop.

Your eyes landed on a particularly curious looking booklet sitting atop his trunk. In Fred’s unmistakable scribble, you read the words “wedding plans” on the cover, and your curiosity got the better of you when you decided to look inside.

The first page was dated July 29th, 1997, and on it he had written, “Date of Ceremony: May 2nd. Y/N and I agree that a late spring wedding would be absolutely beautiful.”

You flipped to the next page, dated August 1st, 1997, and saw that he had written down the conversation you had about wanting a small wedding while you danced at Bill and Fleur’s reception. Each page had something new written on it; the fact that you wanted peonies for your bouquet, “Can’t Help Falling in Love” as your first dance song, and so many other small pieces of information Fred had coaxed out of you since last summer.

Suddenly, you heard Fred’s voice call out from the doorway.

“What are you reading, love?”

You turned around, booklet in hand, with tears streaming down your face.

“Fred…I…I didn’t know that you’ve been serious this whole time.”

“Well I told you that it wasn’t talk, I was planning everything out. It’s been what’s kept me going this past year, you know, the thought of everything in that booklet becoming real.”

“Oh Fred,” you cried as you ran towards him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You never said anything along the lines of ‘I don’t want to marry you’ so I figured we were on the same page. Besides, you always said you didn’t want a fancy proposal.”

“I did say that, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want one at all! You never asked me, how was I supposed to know you were serious?”

“Because I’ve always been serious about you, Y/N. You are the one thing in my life that I’ve ever been serious about and sure of. You’ve always been a bit oblivious though, so I suppose I should do this properly.”

He stepped past you and rummaged through his trunk before pulling out a small, black box. He kneeled in front of you and took your hand before smirking devilishly at you.

“I was only joking, you know, I had always planned to properly propose. But I knew if I did while there was a war going on you might have hexed my nose off, so I’ve been saving this for almost a year now.”

Tears were swimming in both of your eyes, and before Fred could ask, you gave him an answer.

“Yes. I want to marry you, I will marry you, on May 2nd of next year. It’ll be just us and our families. We’ll have loads of peonies and dance to Elvis Presley. I want to be Mrs. Fred Weasley.”

“Are you serious, love, I had a whole speech planned and everything, can’t I just say some of it?”

“Nothing will top me finding that notebook sitting on top of your trunk, but if you want to try…”

“You know what, you’re right, this turned out way better than I planned. It was romantic, you’re crying, the ring looks – oh bloody hell, I haven’t even put the ring on you yet.”

He fumbled with the box and slid the ring onto your finger. It was simple, elegant, and absolutely perfect.

Fred stood up in front of you and brought a hand to your cheek, swiping the pad of his thumb to catch the falling tears.

“We’re getting married,” he whispered as a tear of his own slid down his face.

“Yes, Freddie, we’re getting married.”

[chrisbuckleydiaz]

(german translation below)

I’m very bad ath shouting things into the void without expecting an answer. There are so many english spoonie blogs out there or YT channels that somehow interact with people. But they are mostly english and I’d love to give some resources to german-speaking folks but I don’t know how I could reach them, heck I don’t even know how to reach people that speak english. And as I said I’m bad at writing blogs without getting feedback. I tend to quit rather quickly. I’d love to interact some more with german spoonies / People with cp so if you have any ideas how I could do that let me know!

Ich bin nicht gut darin, zu bloggen, wenn ich keine Reaktionen bekomme. Es gibt so viele englischsprachige Spoonieblogs oder YT Kanäle die irgendwie Kontakt zu anderen Menschen haben. Wie gesagt, sie sind englischsprachig und ich würde gerne Kontakt zu Deutschen spoonies habe bzw. Ressourcen für sie übersetzen. Aber ich bin nicht wirklich gut darin, Menschen im Internet zu erreichen. Wenn ich auf Blogeinträge kein Feedback bekomme, höre ich ziemlich schnell wieder auf. Aber ich würde echt gerne mit deutschen Spoonies / CPlern in Kontakt kommen, also falls ihr eine Idee habt wie ich das anstellen könnte, haut raus.

[clypblog]

Creator Spotlight Series: Initiation

Tell us a little bit about yourself

My name’s Jonathan and I produce mostly electronic music under the alias Initiation. 2018 marks my 4th year of music production.

What inspired you to start making music?

2012 and 2013 dubstep initially inspired me to try to create my own music, but after I got FL Studio, I probably played around for a week and promptly abandoned the thought of ever doing music. A while later, I rediscovered electronic music through the label Monstercat and decided to try again more seriously.

Tell us about your approach to writing and production.

My production starts with listening. I draw inspiration and ideas from other people’s music, so it’s not difficult for me to start a song, but it does mean I’m fairly unoriginal. Usually if I hear a song I like the vibe of, I just note the part of the song I want to emulate. Doing this for a long period of time has generated me a document full of bits and pieces I can use for inspiration. When I want to write a song, I’ll choose some of these inspirations that I think would work together and then arrange the song. I write quite linearly, from the intro of the song through to the outro, usually starting with a chord progression, bassline and atmosphere, but I know a lot of people start from the drop or with a melody.

What programs, equipment and other tools do you use when producing?

I don’t own a lot of hardware, but I do have a pair of Audio Technica ATH-M50x studio headphones and an Alesis V49 keyboard. I also have a Launchpad which I occasionally play around with. My DAW of choice is FL Studio but I know how to use Ableton; my main instruments are Sylenth, Serum, Kontakt and Absynth. Other than stock plugins, my go-to effects are the Fabfilter Suite and Valhalla reverbs (Room, Shimmer and Vintage Verb), but there are many others I use situationally.

How has Clyp played a role in your production process?

Clyp is my primary platform for uploading works in progress and promoting the projects I have been working on (through featuring). It’s very easy and convenient to reach the community and gather feedback for improvement. It’s also a surprisingly effective way of gaining publicity for not only my works, but myself as a creator. Clyp has truly changed the way I produce away from the studio.

How does the feedback you get influence your production and creation process?

I rely on feedback to push my work to a higher quality. My ears often don’t spot the things other people do, it’s very beneficial to use criticism to drive improvement. I almost always seek feedback on songs once I have finished arranging them.

Who are your influences at the moment?

The music I’m inspired by varies a lot over time. At the moment, I love Aljosha Konstanty’s music, and I have made countless songs drawing from his works (plus some of the people he’s worked with, like October Child and Faodail). Kasbo, Grant and Hundaes are some future-esque producers who I find unique and creatively stimulating. Citylights is a definite favourite for beats, and I think Siren is highly underrated for his unique style across so many different types of music. I love progressive, so Nigel Good and Joe Lyons are among my favourites. There’s many more such as yitaku, Puppet, Shadient, Lights & Motion, Notaker, Gate, Virtual Riot, COPYCATT, Au5 and too many others to name.

Can you share a Clyp you’re currently working on?

This is a song I’m working on at the moment with my close friend Mike, or Avenues, with some bass guitar recorded by kleyna. Mike sent me an old song he’d made and I scrapped the chords from it, rearranged them a bit and we wrote this chill beat inspired by October Child. It’s probably my proudest work to date.

Any tips or advice for other creators/producers/musicians?

For me, music production has always been about moving - I don’t like to dwell on a particular style of music. Trying different sounds and experimenting keeps music production fresh and challenging and offers different reserves of knowledge which can be hugely beneficial to growing your sound. Always try new things.

I personally have avoided hopping on bandwagons or making the hottest, trendiest genres of music. Something which really resonated with me was a small speech Lido gave about making what settles with yourself as an artist. It means, creatively, to pursue what you want to hear and not what the crowd wants. Genuine music is a lot easier to connect with, and creating works which click with you will live longer than ones which are made for others. Stay connected with your art.

That said, avoid steering yourself into shutting out other opinions and only listening to what you want to hear. Listening to criticism is a great way to improve your production quality, especially as a growing producer, and it is certainly a crucial step in my production process. You don’t have to listen to everything but be receptive and open-minded to what others have to say.

Lastly, don’t be afraid of copying the music you like. You’d be surprised how many new techniques and skills you’d learn just from emulating other works.

[alwaysthesidecharacter]

I don't wanna stress you or anything but when are you gonna update? ITS JUST SO GOOD!

Lol it's been like 2 days since the last one! Nah, I get it & you're not stressing me out. However, since you brought it up, this may be the appropriate time for honesty hour. So you know how it took me two months to write this last update? Well...it might take me another two months for the next one. With finals coming up, and reasons I'm choosing not to publicly disclose at this time, I can't see myself finding the time to sit down and write until June. If the fanfic gods graciously decide to grant me the opportunity to update in the next few weeks, I will, but if I don't update within that time frame, I'm afraid it's going to have to wait until early-mid June. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I just don't want to get your hopes up with an ambiguous (and dishonest) answer. However, since I refuse to end this answer on a sour note, I will make a promise to you right here and right now that ATH WILL NOT be abandoned. I will update eventually, you have my word. And if I take a ridiculously long time past the time frame of my projected absense, feel free to reference this post and kick my ass into gear. Also, maybe during this drought I can field questions about the story and entertain readers of ATH in a manner that isn't an update. I'm open to suggestions. So yeah, sorry for the unwanted news, but I appreciate your interest in the fic and your patience with the updates. Feedback from people like you is what keeps me writing!Much love,That one person who writes that one fic that takes forever to update but we love her anyway 😉❤

[brettzjacksonblog]

North American Bitcoin Conference

The North American Bitcoin Conference is upon us.

Many established and emerging crypto & ICO stars are soon to hit the stage at the James L Knight Center in downtown Miami. To many outsiders it might seem to be against better judgment to spend time inside a packed conference hall right next to that seductive turquoise water, gently swaying palm trees and that world famous golden beach. That is true especially for those traveling over from the currently Blade Runner-esque January London. To most crypto obsessives, however, the weather can’t compete with what is available inside.

According to the latest data from Keynote, the attendance expectancy has tripled to 3000 people. Crypto is undeniably on a high roll in 2018. This year might just be the one that blockchain solutions explode into the public consciousness as much more than just a new form of currency. Considering its been around less than a decade the speed is incredible.

Speaker list at BTC Miami here

I will be among the other floor displayers there to present some crypto art and write to News BTC about the experience. Getting an email offer to join the conference came at the perfect time a month back as another trip over had been in the works since last summer.

My second US art exhibit will be at the Art Ford Lauderdale fair a week after BTC Miami so that serendipitous gap might allow me that day at the beach after all – even if to just mentally prepare for what is to come right after. This is also my first collaboration exhibit through the legends only Tranter-Sinni Gallery. Due to the gallery, AFL will now also include our bodypainting performance with dancers and a 30-minute talk about tech, art and societal change at 3 pm on the 25th.

Art Ford Lauderdale site

“We live in a society exquisitely dependent on science and technology, in which hardly anyone knows anything about science and technology. ” – Carl Sagan

It will be interesting to talk at a mainstream contemporary art show about the blockchain, VR, and AI after hearing the latest tech insights a week before at BTC Miami. It is not apparent to most in crypto why the blockchain is relevant to art – let alone those who might have only heard the name Bitcoin in passing. Crypto is fast becoming connected to visual art through innovations like Verisart and Maecenas, a decentralized art gallery. It can solve things that have caused major problems within it for centuries.

After recently selling a piece to Silver 8 Capital I used blockchain to verify it through an open to public ledger. See the online authentication here. The landscape of art business is changing due to technology, and a few galleries already cater to the emerging crypto collector class.

Tropical Bit Thunder

There will be at least two more articles regarding everything that is about to happen in sunny Florida. These will include some professionally put together video material, images, insights and quotes from speakers. There are not many covering topics in this space from the perspective of a creative, so I’m privileged to offer it on this platform.

In the world of finance people often forget why they are relevant to people outside of their primary field of interest. Money, especially now, can quickly feel like a gamelike abstraction only. The feedback loop from outside it is often the one that fuels intuition on where to invest next, what to support and perhaps help generate a new evolutionary idea.

For me, the blockchain inspired a whole new art platform and freed me to express potential future directions more easily than the previous. Grandiose as that might sound within the art world, in tech, this is just a normal Monday.

“T(r)optical” art piece by V E S A

The trip already inspired me to make this crypto art piece titled “T(r)optical.” The central palm tree has some coconuts in it and suggests that by journeying over you get to crack them open and access what is inside.

The peacock nesting in the tree has spread its wings to flaunt other crypto logos within as well.

The famous Miami skyline at the bottom incorporates the coins as well as the code that is transforming the banking buildings that make it.

If someone had told me only a couple of years ago that I would be making art about digital money and be inspired by a conference –  I’d likely suggested for them to alter their medication.

The power of Bitcoin I guess.

Should you like to purchase the T(r)optical art piece nr. 1s before everyone else you can do so here

More to come and will be listening to U2’s ‘Miami‘ on the way over.

V E S A Visual Artist London / Helsinki www.artforcrypto.com www.artevo.org

  The post North American Bitcoin Conference appeared first on NewsBTC.

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[michaelbennettcrypto]

North American Bitcoin Conference

The North American Bitcoin Conference is upon us.

Many established and emerging crypto & ICO stars are soon to hit the stage at the James L Knight Center in downtown Miami. To many outsiders it might seem to be against better judgment to spend time inside a packed conference hall right next to that seductive turquoise water, gently swaying palm trees and that world famous golden beach. That is true especially for those traveling over from the currently Blade Runner-esque January London. To most crypto obsessives, however, the weather can’t compete with what is available inside.

According to the latest data from Keynote, the attendance expectancy has tripled to 3000 people. Crypto is undeniably on a high roll in 2018. This year might just be the one that blockchain solutions explode into the public consciousness as much more than just a new form of currency. Considering its been around less than a decade the speed is incredible.

Speaker list at BTC Miami here

I will be among the other floor displayers there to present some crypto art and write to News BTC about the experience. Getting an email offer to join the conference came at the perfect time a month back as another trip over had been in the works since last summer.

My second US art exhibit will be at the Art Ford Lauderdale fair a week after BTC Miami so that serendipitous gap might allow me that day at the beach after all – even if to just mentally prepare for what is to come right after. This is also my first collaboration exhibit through the legends only Tranter-Sinni Gallery. Due to the gallery, AFL will now also include our bodypainting performance with dancers and a 30-minute talk about tech, art and societal change at 3 pm on the 25th.

Art Ford Lauderdale site

“We live in a society exquisitely dependent on science and technology, in which hardly anyone knows anything about science and technology. ” – Carl Sagan

It will be interesting to talk at a mainstream contemporary art show about the blockchain, VR, and AI after hearing the latest tech insights a week before at BTC Miami. It is not apparent to most in crypto why the blockchain is relevant to art – let alone those who might have only heard the name Bitcoin in passing. Crypto is fast becoming connected to visual art through innovations like Verisart and Maecenas, a decentralized art gallery. It can solve things that have caused major problems within it for centuries.

After recently selling a piece to Silver 8 Capital I used blockchain to verify it through an open to public ledger. See the online authentication here. The landscape of art business is changing due to technology, and a few galleries already cater to the emerging crypto collector class.

Tropical Bit Thunder

There will be at least two more articles regarding everything that is about to happen in sunny Florida. These will include some professionally put together video material, images, insights and quotes from speakers. There are not many covering topics in this space from the perspective of a creative, so I’m privileged to offer it on this platform.

In the world of finance people often forget why they are relevant to people outside of their primary field of interest. Money, especially now, can quickly feel like a gamelike abstraction only. The feedback loop from outside it is often the one that fuels intuition on where to invest next, what to support and perhaps help generate a new evolutionary idea.

For me, the blockchain inspired a whole new art platform and freed me to express potential future directions more easily than the previous. Grandiose as that might sound within the art world, in tech, this is just a normal Monday.

“T(r)optical” art piece by V E S A

The trip already inspired me to make this crypto art piece titled “T(r)optical.” The central palm tree has some coconuts in it and suggests that by journeying over you get to crack them open and access what is inside.

The peacock nesting in the tree has spread its wings to flaunt other crypto logos within as well.

The famous Miami skyline at the bottom incorporates the coins as well as the code that is transforming the banking buildings that make it.

If someone had told me only a couple of years ago that I would be making art about digital money and be inspired by a conference –  I’d likely suggested for them to alter their medication.

The power of Bitcoin I guess.

Should you like to purchase the T(r)optical art piece nr. 1s before everyone else you can do so here

More to come and will be listening to U2’s ‘Miami‘ on the way over.

V E S A Visual Artist London / Helsinki www.artforcrypto.com www.artevo.org

  The post North American Bitcoin Conference appeared first on NewsBTC.

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[scarlettsandmaroons]

THE NEW CHAPTER WAS AMAZING, im so proud of you for publishing this chapter being so busy and with mental health stuff. it was amazing and remember to take care of urself

thank you, my love!!!! this genuinely genuinely means a lot. will definitely keep this in mind always ❤️