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diaryujin · 5 months

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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍

summary: Sunghoon has never felt any spark in his heart, none of that silly love he’s read about in novels in his free time. No one interested him, and it wasn’t like his father, the king, would let him have friends, male or female, for fear of being betrayed or developing feelings for them. He lived a life of isolation, excited for nothing – neither the idea of being married to a pretty princess nor becoming the next ruler of the Park kingdom. He most certainly did not expect you, his new guard, to change all that. He did not expect you to brighten his days and light up his heart.

includes: death, murder, war/battle, attempted murder (kinda), breaking in, royal au, romanticized medieval setting of sorts, forced marriage/proposal, a lot of time skips so it moves somewhat quickly, brief mention of a toxic ex, death by illness, joking mention of jumping off a balcony, blood, wounds, denial of death kinda, graves, lmk if i missed anything!

genre: angst

pairing: prince! sunghoon x guard! fem! reader

word count: 8.1k (woah)

taglist: @kflixnet @kpopslays @jvjsssnaa a/n: it’s finally here! i sacrificed sleep for this and i do not regret it at all. this fic has two milestones for me - being my longest fic + a fic i’m kinda proud of. i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it <3

PLEASE REBLOG/COMMENT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS FIC 🫶

Sunghoon was reading over some papers pertaining to the kingdom’s matters when he heard a knock on the door.

“Enter.”

One of the guards came in, before bowing upon seeing him.

“Sire, his Majesty wishes to see you.”

He nodded and set the papers in a neat stack. He then put them in a drawer and locked it for security. He then stood up and followed the guard, maintaining a neutral expression.

His mind was working much faster than normal though.

His father was very strict, and the slightest mistake meant an extremely harsh lecture. He flicked through his memories, trying to remember what he could have done wrong, and what he should say as his apology.

He pursed his lips as a thought crossed his mind - was his recent trip to the colder regions made known to his father? He had gone for administrative work, but he couldn’t resist spending some time there ice skating, which the king always considered useless since it benefited only the person skating, not the country. He had done his best to keep it under wraps, but maybe one of the guards reported this to the king. Damn it.

He mentally slapped himself for using such crude language. Those were the words of peasants and did not suit a prince like him. Holy moly…buckling barnacles, great heavens…such lengthy words to express frustration, he thought. ‘Damn it’ was only two syllables.

As he snapped out of his reverie, he entered the Throne Room. His father was seated on the grand throne at the end of the airy space. The seats where the ministers sat were empty. Court was always in the morning, and it was probably lunchtime by now - the prince wasn’t sure.

He stood a few feet away from his father. The guard bowed and left, and Sunghoon made eye contact with the old man in front of him. He didn’t seem angry, so the younger relaxed a bit, letting out a sigh.

“Why have you called me here, father?”

“I’ve received some proposals from other kings. They’ve sent me paintings of their daughters. A lovely selection of princesses, I must say.”

Sunghoon had to physically hold himself back from rolling his eyes.

“Father, I’ve already told you this. I am not ready for marriage and I am not interested in this topic.”

“Yes, but it’s good to start early. Maybe you’ll change your mind after-”

“I’m sorry to interrupt you Father, but why have you actually summoned me?”

The king narrowed his eyes at his son but didn’t say anything more about the topic.

“Well, I’ve decided to get you a personal guard. There have been many threats of attacks on the palace, so it’s better to take this precaution.”

“Interesting. Will he be with me all the time or-”

“She.”

“What?”

“Your guard is a female.”

To say he was shocked was the understatement of the century. His father? Hiring a woman? As his bodyguard? What if he-

“Are you serious?” “Yes. She is very capable and I’m sure she will protect and serve you well. I trust you to keep your relationship with her strictly professional.”

It wasn’t like he knew how to have a non-professional relationship with anyone outside of his family anyway.

“Yes, Father. Will she be with me at all times?”

“Indeed she will, except for when you are sleeping. At that time, she will stand outside your door and guard you.” “What about her food and sleep?”

“That is not your concern.”

“But-”

“Silence!”

He immediately bowed his head slightly as a sign of remorse for stepping out of line. This was going to be interesting, he thought. He had little to no interaction with women outside of his mother and sister, and the small talk he made with princesses and duchesses of other kingdoms was always awkward. Now he was having someone of the opposite gender, a woman, watching over him nearly 24/7.

He slowed down his train of thought. Why was he thinking like a teenage boy ogling over a girl? He was the crown prince, he was better than that. It was going to be a new experience, that was all.

“May I meet her now?”

“Of course. She’s arriving as we speak.”

Just then, the door opened, and you entered, a male soldier on either side. Sunghoon’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, but nothing came out of it.

He was having a cultural shock of sorts. All the women he had met were all dainty, graceful and poised - the epitome of perfection. You, on the other hand, had an air of authority about you — rough and firm. A few scars were on your face, probably from battle. You bowed the full 90 degrees, and he could only respond with a small nod.

Oh fuck, you were gorgeous.

And he used foul language again. Stupid Sunghoon, he reprimanded himself.

He didn’t take back what he said, however. Your beauty wasn’t the type written in books or sung in ballads, but it had to be known to the world, somehow. He was almost tempted to write one himself.

Hold on, why was he thinking all this? His father had just told him to not think anything about you that crossed the lines of professional, and thinking about how pretty you were was not within those lines.

“This is your new personal guard, Y/N.”

You came over to him and bowed again, although at a smaller angle than before.

“N…Nice to meet you, Y-Y/N.”

Did he just stutter?!

“It is an honor, my prince. I swear to serve you to the best of my abilities.”

“I’m sure you will.”

He managed a small, formal smile, looking completely pleasant and unfazed.

Which he very much was not. He wanted to jump off the nearest balcony when you said ‘my prince’. He didn’t know why - you weren’t the only one who addressed him in that manner. You might’ve even learned it from someone in the palace, so why was he so hot and bothered with the way you said it?

“Your duties start today, guard.”

“Yes, your Majesty. I will not let you down.”

He was going crazy. You were just his new guard. Nothing less, nothing more. He would just have to rein in his thoughts and get it all together. Not a difficult task at all.

As you stood behind him as he walked through the kingdom’s streets a week later, he seemed to keep a little distance from you, which was unsafe. Anything could happen within a few meters.

“My prince, you must slow your pace.”

He turned his face to look at you as he stopped walking.

“Oh? Why is that?”

“There’s a gap between us, and anyone could attack you with that.”

“Ah. I see. In that case…you can walk next to me. Or something.”

You stood next to him now. He quickly looked at the fruits a vendor was selling, trying his best to avert his gaze so that you wouldn’t see his reddening cheeks. It was unknown to him as to why he was so flustered. You were only doing your job, and that was it.

“Our kingdom seems to produce good crops.”

“Indeed they do, my prince. The farmer and the cultivators work very hard. It always seems to go unnoticed for some damn reason, though.”

He heard the angry tone in your voice and the curse word you said. This seemed to be a sore topic for you. He was curious, so he decided to ask more.

“What do you suggest, then?”

“We export more crops so that they get more revenue and in turn, they get paid as well. Increase the demand.”

You shrugged before turning your attention to a little kid who was clinging to your leg. You leaned down and patted his head, smiling a bit. The kid laughed and ran away. Sunghoon watched this interaction with interest and it dawned upon him that you cared about the people and their welfare, like a good ruler.

Wait, why was he thinking about you being a ruler? You were only a soldier, and with the hierarchy now, there wasn’t much chance you could become more.

It did make him wonder, however, what you would do if the people rebelled. He shook his head, not wanting to think so dark. Your suggestion was smart, though. It made more sense the more he pondered over it. He’d mention this to the old man and see what he’d say.

“Shall we move on, guard?”

You stood up properly before nodding.

“Yes, my prince. Apologies for slowing you down.”

He dismissed you with a wave of his hand.

“Nothing of the sort. Come, let’s go.”

You both continued your stroll and for some reason, his heart was beating very unnaturally. He only had this issue when he was agitated, but there was no reason for him to be scared now, so why was this happening?

It had only been two months since you became his personal guard, yet you were his closest and most trusted friend. He took all your ideas seriously and told them to the king who somehow accepted them, and called him ‘ingenious’ for supposedly coming up with them. He hated taking false credit, but he knew that he couldn’t tell his father that you were the mastermind of them all — he would then question Sunghoon as to why he was talking to them in the first place, which would lead to you being removed from your post and replaced with a boring male soldier.

He didn’t want to lose you, not when he finally found a change in his monotonous life, someone to brighten his dull days, someone to call a friend, even though it was only known to the both of you and no one else. He couldn’t bear to have you gone.

He was sitting underneath a tree, looking up at the sky in the comfort of the gardens reserved for his family and visitors alone. His father never came here out of his own accord - he always considered it a waste of time. His mother was in her room, and her sister was in another kingdom discussing alliances. This was a moment very rare, just you and him, with no one to interrupt or catch you two slacking.

You were sitting next to him, only a few inches away. The wind was blowing gently on his face. He closed his eyes and smiled, inhaling and exhaling deeply. Your presence next to him was oddly comforting. He opened his eyes again, turned his head, and looked at you, wanting to ask you something.

“Guard, you know how I always give your suggestions to the king and how he always says ‘I’ did a good job thinking about them?”

Your face tightened the same way it did every time he took credit for your ideas in front of his father. He sighed.

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, I wanted to apologize for that.”

You tilted your head at him, clearly not understanding two things - why he was suddenly saying sorry, and how you doing that simple thing made him go insane. You took over him, body and soul. All he could think of when he tried to sleep was you. It was just two months. Two months, and he was already attached to you. He was convinced, however, that it wasn’t love or anything stupid like that. No, it was simply him forming a close connection to the first person who cared about him. Not everything was romantic affection. He had never tasted this emotion, obviously, but he’d say that he knew enough about it to confirm this wasn’t it.

“Why now, my prince? I’m sorry- I just didn’t expect you to, y’know…actually apologize. Never met a royal who’s done so. They’re all usually stuck-up snobs who think their shit is worth the entire kingdom.”

He snorted at that. It wasn’t like you were wrong, most of the royals he met were indeed very arrogant. He didn’t dare anything about it though, simply doing his best to not behave like them.

“It’s not right of me to take credit for something I don’t even have the brain for. I don’t mention your name for your security. If my father knew I was talking to you about matters like these, then…”

He made a motion of him cutting his own throat, complete with the sound effect. You grinned a bit, which was enough for him to be over the moon, but then you laughed. Not just a ‘teehee’ or a ‘haha’ - an actual, proper laugh. His heart swelled, maybe his jokes didn’t suck that much. Your laugh was indescribable. It was a delightful sound to listen to. It was short, but he wanted to hear it every day at least once for the rest of his life instead of those ballads that were sung in the court all the time.

The way your eyes formed crescents, the way your face was half in the light and half in the shadow, the way the wind put an orange leaf in your hair like it was an accessory - it was making him sick in a good way. He rarely saw you smile, let alone laugh like this. He knew that you had to keep your expression serious all the time - all the soldiers had that training - and this was a proud moment for him to see you loosen up. He couldn’t help the small smile on his own face.

“My prince, is he really that harsh? I’m aware that he is super damn strict to us soldiers, but that’s expected since we have to be toughened up to protect the land.”

His smile faded before he shook his head in agreement.

“I’d say so. It’s for my good- I am the next in line, after all.”

“I don’t think forcing your child to have no friends is how you raise him to be king. He won’t know how to have proper social interactions.”

There you were again, hitting the mark accurately with your observation. He sucked at interacting with other people. Slowly, he was starting to dislike his father more. The faults he never saw in him earlier were becoming visible, the saint-like image he had of the king since childhood fading away. Was this meant to happen? He wasn’t sure.

“Right. I’m living proof.”

You shook your head in alarm.

“Oh shit- please don’t be offended by my idiotic statement, my prince…I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, really-”

He chuckled at how you were panicking and made a motion with his hand for you to calm down.

“It’s okay. I didn’t take it that way.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

He saw your body relax as he rested his head against the bark of the tree again. He gazed at the sky, eyes fixated on the clouds and the way they moved in the direction of the breeze. Two questions lingered in his mind, and his mouth suddenly blurted one out.

“Do you ever sleep?”

It was random, sure, but he had to know. He was concerned for you. He never saw you leave his side, except for when he was asleep, and he already knew what you did then. You were still staring at him, but he didn’t notice.

“I do. I’m a normal person, my prince, I can’t function without food and rest. That’s impossible.”

“When?”

You let out a slight laugh at his curiosity, and his heart started pounding faster again.

“You don’t notice, do you? That means I’m performing the stealth part of my job well. When you’re in the dining room or a meeting surrounded by the best soldiers. That’s when. I also don’t stand watch for you every night. I alternate with another guard.”

His mouth formed an ‘o’ shape in understanding. He didn’t notice it at all, which meant that either you were a master of stealth, as you said, or he was just blind. It was most likely the former since he had no doubt in your abilities.

“I see. I was very worried for you, honestly.”

“I’m honored that I was an object of your concern, my prince.”

He scoffed at your slightly surprised expression.

“Of course, I would. You’re my personal guard, what reason is there for me to treat you inhumanly?”

That stupid fucking slip of his tongue.

Shit, he just cursed.

Damn it, again.

His tutor and family would go crazy if they could read his thoughts.

Of course he had to refer to you as his, like you were property. Of course he had to emphasize on that word as well. You were making him loosen up too much. It shouldn’t have happened, not at all. He couldn’t continue like this, what if he accidentally cursed in front of people? He would never be heard of again.

“I’d say I had expected that, but you’re different from other royals, so not really.”

“I understand. Also, you don’t have to call me ‘my prince’ when we’re alone. Just Sunghoon is enough.”

Your eyes widened in astonishment.

“My prince, I wouldn’t dare to-”

“Really guard. It’s fine.”

“But his Majesty-”

“He doesn’t have to know. Our secret.”

“If you say so…it’ll take me time to get used to calling you by your name, princ- I mean, Sunghoon.”

“Already getting there.”

“I guess so. In that case, you can call me by just my name. No need for ‘guard’.”

“Your wish is my command, Y/N.”

This was new. Not referring to someone by their title was disrespectful. He learned from a ripe young age that if he didn’t call someone by their title, he could end up with his head on a guillotine block in some places. Were you seriously making all his long years of education unravel? Silence fell upon the two of you before he spoke up again.

“What do you think love is like?”

You must’ve been taken aback, and he expected to see such an expression on your face. Instead, when he stole a glance at you, it was something else. Wistful? Longing? He couldn’t name it exactly.

“Books don’t give it justice. Neither do ballads. It’s…more than that.”

He was intrigued by your response. He raised an eyebrow, signalling you to continue.

“Oh? You’ve been in love before?”

You stared at him, a sad smile forming on your lips, a look flashing in your eyes. One of remorse, he recognized.

“Yeah. It was depressingly…beautiful.”

His chest tightened at your words for some reason.

“Heartbreak?”

“Kind of. We fought a lot…our personalities were very different. Then when we finally reconciled…he died. An illness took him away.”

Your eyes were filled with so much hurt, it almost made him cry. This was his first time seeing you emotional, vulnerable, and while he was honored that you trusted him enough to show you this side of yours, he wondered how much you were hiding away. All he wanted was to protect you so that you would never have to go through something as painful as that. He made a resolve to make sure that he was never the cause of the agony in your eyes.

“I’m so sorry that happened.”

“It’s fine. It was just- unexpected. It’s been a year anyway.”

“I hope this doesn’t bring back memories you buried, but…how would you describe love?”

You rested your chin on your palm, thinking for a bit.

“Love isn’t only about the physical signs. For me, love is always wanting to be by someone’s side, being so head over heels for them that even the littlest things like…I don’t know, something stupid, makes you remember them. It’s being their biggest supporter, but also telling them when they’re wrong. Love is wanting to keep them safe from all the bad in this world. It’s when even the simplest thing they do brightens your day, like a smile or a small act of kindness. Love is when you put their needs and wants above everything and everyone else. There’s obviously more, but that’s my personal experience.”

Holy moly. Sunghoon was in love.

He was in love. That emotion many desired to feel at least once. All his previous notions and confidence about it being platonic flew out the window. He very clearly did not learn enough about this feeling. He didn’t know whether he wanted to be happy that he could say he had loved once in his life, or scream in frustration that he fell for someone out of his league and not some princess who he was supposed to want like this.

God, he hated himself.

“Pri- Sunghoon, are you okay?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He couldn’t let you know, he was a hundred percent sure that you didn’t feel the same. Plus, he was the prince, and if you both were caught, it would mean bad for him and catastrophic for you.

“I’m fine. Come, let’s go. We might get caught if we stay any longer.”

He stood up immediately. You were confused but followed his orders. What he said, you obeyed.

It had been eight months since you became his personal guard, and half a year since he realized that he was in love with you. He tried to distance himself, but one look or word from you and his resolve faltered. He was so deep in this pit, and he didn’t know whether he wanted to dig deeper or climb out. He wanted you to stay away and he also loved the way you destroyed every single one of the walls he built around himself subconsciously.

He matured, and he was no longer the shy boy who didn’t know how to talk to someone of the opposite gender. He was a confident and charming crown prince now, the man of many’s dreams. You were the only one on his mind though.

His father was now eager to get him married off, and he had to comply with his wishes, He was no longer the king who served the people anymore - he was corrupted, only thinking about power. Sunghoon did his best to undo the damage inflicted on the population, but the situation was getting tense, and he knew it. Rebels were raising their heads and it was his job to keep them in check. It was difficult, but you helped him through it.

Presently, he was sitting in the dining room with his family, the king, queen, princess, and officials of the Hwan kingdom. This was the proposal his father liked the most because the Hwan kingdom was rich in resources, and this alliance hidden as a marriage would give the Parks access to those coveted precious stones. He was hoping, however, that the other king would say no for some reason and he’d be free.

He had no interest in the princess, however. She was too boring for him. They had zero common likes, and the only thing they related to each other on was the struggles of being next in line. This was probably the worst match he had ever met. She seemed like she wanted this much less than he did. She was at least trying, he had to give her that.

You stood behind him on his right side. He so desperately wanted to turn around and see your reaction to all this. Your face had to have no expression now, obviously, but you both shared secret looks with each other in odd situations, and he was sure you’d find this amusing. The chatter across the table died down suddenly, and all the attention was on the two kings in the room.

“We’ve agreed on this marriage. Prince Sunghoon and Princess Hyeju are now betrothed!”

Sunghoon’s hands, which were tapping the table, stilled. He froze in shock, every voluntary muscle in his body stopping movement.

No, this couldn’t happen.

This was a nightmare, a terrible dream. He pinched his thigh underneath the table and ended up proving to his dismay that he was wrong.

This was the worst day of his life.

His father droned on about the details of the wedding. He tuned it all out. He tilted his head just a little to see your face and noticed that you were gripping your spear much tighter than necessary. You knew that he didn’t want this, not at all. Maybe you were angry on his behalf.

He couldn’t do anything about this, however. This was just his fate, and he resigned to it immediately.

The meeting ended, and everyone, including Sunghoon, stood up and exited the room. You followed him as he went straight to the gardens to clear his head. His family would be occupied with entertaining the guests and making more plans, so it was just you and him. Again.

He sat in his usual spot underneath the same tree. He buried his face in his hands, frustrated. He heard the sound of you sitting down next to him, before feeling your hand lightly grip his shoulder.

“Hey, Sunghoon?”

“You don’t have to say anything. It’s fine.”

“I know how much you don’t want this. Trust me, I don’t want it either.”

The second sentence was uttered in a more quiet voice, and he moved his hands away from his face to look at you in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

Your lips formed a thin line, your body language making it clear that you were saying this with hesitation.

“I don’t want you to marry her.”

You removed your hand from his shoulder. You looked down at the grass, fresh and green from the new spring season.

“Why? I mean- other than me not wanting it personally, there’s no reason you should hate it…this is an amazing opportunity for the people and the kingdom! We will prosper-”

“Fuck the people and the kingdom- I want you, dumbass.”

His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped.

“What…do you mean.”

“I love you really badly. That’s what I mean.”

He couldn’t believe it. You, the very person he always desired desperately, his forbidden fruit, loved him back? Wanted him? This wasn’t real. He must’ve been knocked out after the marriage announcement and slipped into a pleasant dream.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You want me to prove it?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t know what to expect, but you grabbing his face and crashing your lips on his was the farthest from his vague idea of what might happen.

It lasted for a few seconds before you pulled away suddenly. You noticed his dazed expression and started to panic.

“Shit, shouldn’t have done that, please don’t kill me, I-”

Your voice snapped him out of his haze before he placed his hand on your waist and pulled you in for another kiss. His hand tucked one strand of hair behind your ear and you melted into the action, calming down instantly. He was so gentle, so careful, he was holding you like you were a delicate object that was to be treated with utmost care at all times. When you both parted, his face wore a lovesick smile, his eyes sparkling like stars.

“I feel the same.”

“Yeah, it was obvious.”

He chuckled at your comment, before frowning.

“You know this is dangerous, right? We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Your shoulders slumped at his words, knowing that he was completely correct.

“I do. I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess. I just didn’t…know how to tell you.”

He shook his head. To him, you could do no wrong. It was his fault. He should have gotten rid of you so that he could nip the blooming flower in his heart from the bud. He shouldn’t have been such a coward.

“I understand what you mean now. I don’t know how to stop it, though.”

“That’s…fine. Just knowing you feel the same is enough for me.”

It wasn’t. Neither for you, neither for him, and you both knew that. The fact that he couldn’t be yours and you couldn’t be his simply because of both of your duties was like a nasty, sharp torn ledged in the soft flesh of his heart. You and him were not meant to be. Your romance was only a fantasy, to be never fulfilled.

“Precisely. This is all it’ll ever be.”

It was night. He had one week until his wedding with the Hwan princess, and he was dreading it. Seeing your face became unbearable for him sometimes — you reminded him that he had everything a commoner could only dream of, but even the poorest of poor could love and he couldn’t. He was ready to throw his entire life away and disappear with you, but his fear of what would happen next to the country held him back.

He stared out the window in his bedroom which gave him a perfect view of the private gardens. The place where it all started and ended. The moonlight shone on the trees and flowers, giving it a peaceful aura, different from the cheery one it had in the daytime. Even in the comfort of his silk night clothes and soft blankets, he was in a state of unrest. He wanted to run, wanted to be free, wanted, wanted, wanted. He lay down, resting his head on his pillow as he waited for sleep to find him while he closed his eyes. Thankfully, the night was kind to him, and he dozed off almost instantly.

Sunghoon was rudely woken up by you frantically shaking his figure, pleading with you to wake up. When he came to his senses, he heard alarms sounding in the palace and immediately understood that it was an emergency, although what might’ve exactly happened was beyond him.

“Y/N, Y/N, I’m up. What’s going on?”

He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and slapping his face for good measure.

“Rebels. Come, we need to run.”

The first word was enough for him to be fully alert. He foresaw them coming, so it wasn’t a big shocker for him. He put on his slippers and looked at you with determination. He was actually trying to mask his fear, but you didn’t need to know that. You grabbed his arm and ran out of the room. He was a bit startled at your speed at first, but quickly matched your pace. When you both reached a corridor, you slowed down, wanting to be careful of surprise attacks.

“Hide your face to the best of your ability. I’m not sure if they’ll recognize you in non-prince clothes, but it’s better to be safe. They’ll aim for me instead since I have the palace uniform.”

His chest tightened. You were ready to give up your life for his. He knew that was protocol for all soldiers - royals over their own lives. He knew, but you were different. He didn’t want you to die, he couldn’t imagine a life without you. You were his oxygen, he’d suffocate if you were gone.

Suddenly, he noticed a flash of light. He heard a whoosh and he saw the way your hair moved in the direction of the sound. He assumed it was a gust of air along with the lights of the palace shining weirdly, but then he looked at the wall in front of him and realized what it was - an arrow. It was embedded in said wall, and you had missed it by a hair’s breath. Literally. It had scratched your face, but other than that, you were fine.

You pulled him down to remain on the floor, before you stood up and ran to the rebel that shot it, your hands gripping your sword tight. You engaged in combat with her. She was rather buff, and even though she only had a bow and an arrow holder on her, she was slowly gaining ground in the fight. She was blocking your thrusts with her bow, catching your moves with its string. She landed a harsh blow on your chest, and he gritted his teeth seeing your sharp flinch. He had to do something and fast.

He crawl-walked across the floor, making sure to stay unnoticed. He moved to stand behind the rebel before forcefully grabbing her neck. She was gagged, and the sudden lack of air caught her off guard. You took the opportunity and struck her in the heart, and he let go of her.

You both ran off, eager to get to the safe room specially built for situations like this. Barely some distance away, he raised his head, neck aching from the constant strain, when you suddenly pushed him to the ground and covered his mouth with your hand. He was about to protest, feeling kind of hot and bothered with his position, but then he decided against it. You definitely did this for a reason, and he could repress his feelings for a while.

Your head turned as you stared at a rebel passing by, praying he wouldn’t notice you both. He was blind to your movement thankfully, and as soon as he left, you got off of Sunghoon, pulled him up, and ran. You pushed the door of the safe room which was behind a cupboard open with your shoulder, and he then realized that he was the first one to reach. The door closed, and he glanced at you, relief and gratitude clear in his eyes.

You gave him a thumbs up and turned to leave to assist the other soldiers with getting the rest of his family to the room when he suddenly grabbed your wrist. You looked at him with confusion, and you opened your mouth to ask him what he was doing when he placed his lips on yours. You let out a soft gasp when he held you closer, one arm around your waist, the other hand on your back, holding you close. This wasn’t like the last time you kissed — this was desperate, filled with emotion. He let go of you too soon, eyes shining with tears.

You both knew that there was a chance you wouldn’t come back to him, and this could be the last time he saw you.

You squeezed his hand in an attempt to reassure him. He just nodded at the door, knowing that you had your duty. You bowed and left as he watched you in fear, praying that you’d make it.

After the attack by the rebels, there were always new questions about the palace’s security floating around. Quite a few lives were lost. None of them were you or his family, but Sunghoon still grieved for them mentally. He couldn’t imagine the agony their families must’ve been going through, and he managed to convince his father to give all the deceased’s close relatives compensation.

The wedding was called off for now, much to his delight and his father’s despair. The old man had accused him of doing something to sabotage it, but he had grown a thicker skin, thanks to you. All efforts were now being put into strengthening the forces of the kingdom, and the actual matters of state were being ignored. This would lead to more rebellion, but his father didn’t seem to care. At this rate, he could die if he stepped out of the palace grounds — the people hated him that much. Sunghoon was already preparing to become the next ruler since that future would become a reality pretty soon.

A surprise attack was inevitable, but he didn’t expect the aggressor to be the damn Hwan kingdom.

They must’ve heard about the damage inflicted on the palace from spies and knew that the Park kingdom would be focusing its efforts on repairing it, thus taking advantage of the situation. It was smart of king Hwan, Sunghoon would give him that.

He rode his horse while inspecting the soldiers preparing for battle. None of them were properly ready for this. Many veteran soldiers were on break and were called back suddenly. They all did come, and he was grateful to them for that, even when they had the right to refuse. The troops were arranging their positions quickly, and a little bit of his anxiety relaxed. Their army was strong, they could face this.

As he rode back, he saw his father, who was seething with rage at being betrayed, Sunghoon’s brain was in overdrive. Many of these brave soldiers would sacrifice their body and soul for a stupid fight that wouldn’t bring much to the land that could have been easily prevented. He knew it would happen, but didn’t do anything that was enough to fix it. He couldn’t keep falling short of what was necessary, that wasn’t what a future king would do.

Not wanting to talk to the old man, he rode a little further where you were on your own horse, surveying the battlefield. He relaxed a bit more upon seeing you and moved to be next to you.

“This will be a tough fight, Sunghoon.”

“I hope it remains a fight that ends today and not a war that stretches over days.”

“Where we are victorious.”

“Obviously.”

“My- Sunghoon, what will you do in case your father…is killed?”

The slip-up and the way ‘my Sunghoon’ rolled off your tongue so perfectly made him miss your actual question for a moment. He let out a soft giggle, before manning up to think. He hadn’t considered that possibility at all. If that happened, then he would automatically become the next king. He’d rule the land and hopefully lead better than the previous king and his reign would be peaceful. He’d make sure of that.

“Be the next ruler, of course. I’d promote you to my personal advisor.”

You cracked a small smile at that.

“Not enough brain. Plus, what if I don’t make it?”

“Won’t happen. You’re too sexy to die. Your abilities are top tier too, you’ll survive.”

You laughed now, and he smiled fully at you. This was a situation unheard of — right before a whole battle, he was here flirting with you and laughing. So very serious.

He leaned his head closer to yours, hair falling over his eyes. They were pleading silently with you to steal one last kiss, one last secret gesture of love before you both left to fight, one last chance to hold you. You shortened the gap, about to comply, when the war horn sounded, signaling the start of the battle. He frowned, angry at the lost chance, but quickly kissed your forehead. You pecked his cheek in return, before putting on your helmet and riding off.

The sound of hooves hitting the ground and the sight of dust flying from them brought him back into the moment, and he rode in the same direction as his own army, intending to lead the fight. His father was weak and made dumb decisions, so it was up to him. He moved directly to the frontlines, pulling out his sword from its hilt as an enemy soldier charged at him. He fought with ease, and soon a dead body was on the ground.

He should have been desensitized now upon seeing gore and corpses, but it still disgusted him. He gritted his teeth and averted his gaze as he parried with more enemies. Soldiers were dropping left and right from both sides. Blood splatters were on his own face from fighting so fiercely. It was a miracle that he was still standing with only minor injuries, the Hwan soldiers were vigorous.

Time was passing quickly, although for him it felt like an eternity. He just wanted to go back after all this ended. He didn’t care if he had to marry the Hwan princess, all he wanted was for this bloodshed to end. The sound of arrows being shot, horses neighing, grunts of hurt and dying soldiers — it was all too much for him.

All of a sudden, a more experienced soldier was attacking him, he could tell by the moves. His entire focus was on fighting back because this guy could actually kill him, that much was clear. He didn’t notice the other soldier charging towards him from his left with a spear until he heard a clang.

His eyes darted in the direction of the sound for a second, only to see you had blocked the attack and thrown the soldier off his horse. He was impressed and inspired by you, and with renewed strength, he killed the veteran. He gave you a thumbs up, before looking to his right as someone else ran to replace the deceased soldier. He was ready to fight that person and everyone else with you and for you.

Then, tragedy struck.

An arrow was heading in his direction. Occupied with the current fight he was in, Sunghoon was in no position to dodge it, and you took the blow. Pushing his horse with your own, the arrow lodged in your chest instead. The only reason he noticed it was because of the sound of pain you made. He finished off the man fighting him, and then turned his head to look at you. Your head was drooping slightly and your grip on the reins of your horse had faltered.

No, no, no, this can’t happen!

You were supposed to stay with him, you were supposed to be by his side forever, he was supposed to get more chances to love you, even in secret, not just lose you like this.

He immediately shoved his sword back in its hilt before grabbing your torso to steady you. You were very faintly there, you just had to keep going a bit more for him, and he knew you could.

“Y/N, hold on, okay? Don’t close your eyes, please.”

“Try…ing.”

Fuck, your voice was so weak, you really were trying. He’d end your suffering soon, he promised silently.

Coincidentally, the war horn sounded once more, signifying the end of the battle. It was his kingdom’s, which meant he had won, just like you wanted.

But you weren’t conscious enough to realize it.

He promptly sat you on his horse in front of him, one arm around your waist holding you close and tight. He galloped fast to the palace medic, the best one in the entire region. He ignored the weird looks and the shouts of his name, traveling with urgency. He had to move fast for your sake, and also for his own. He’d lose his shit if you…no. You weren’t going to, he was sure of it.

“Try to not focus on the pain, we’re almost there.”

That was stupid advice, but he had to say something, anything to save him.

“This doctor will fix you up, I swear. Just- don’t give up yet, Y/N. I beg of you. It’s all I’ll ask for this badly from you.”

Your head was now tilted back, and it rested on his right shoulder. You opened your eyes slightly to look at him, which he took as a good sign.

Then you spoke.

“I won’t…won’t make it. It’s…no point…denying it…my…Hoon, I…love you.”

At your words, Sunghoon’s lips formed a thin line as he squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds to force his tears to stay back. He could feel the blood running from your wound and collecting onto the sleeve of his suit, but he refused to accept it. You would make it, you couldn’t die.

“Shut-Shut up. You’re not dying, not when I’m here. Look, we’ve reached- you’ll be okay, I swear.”

He got off the horse, your limp body in his arms bridal style.

He wished he could be holding you like this in a different, more happier situation.

The doctor rushed out of her house and knew that it was urgent upon seeing the prince at her door. She took you in and he waited outside, pacing around nervously. He was so certain you’d survive, but the wound could be a major setback for the rest of your life. He’d have to make adjustments to accommodate you at the palace. He wouldn’t mind though, it was for you after all.

The doctor came out after a few minutes, and he waited for her to say something along the lines of ‘she survived, but ___’. Not to see her shake her head with a soft sigh.

“I’m sorry. She didn’t make it. She was gone when you came here. We tried our best, but…the arrow was poison tipped, which reduced her chances of surviving to zero.”

No. No no no no no. This lady was old and wrinkling, she was probably cuckoo and playing an unfunny prank on him.

“Can I see her? Alone?”

“Of course, sire.”

He rushed inside immediately, expecting to see you on the bed bandaged up and smiling at how well the prank worked on him-

She was right. You really were gone. You took your last breath in his arms. Your arms rested limply by your sides. The arrow was removed, but the blood stains were on your armor as evidence that the fatal injury did indeed happen. Useful reminder for a delusional ass like his. Your helmet was off your head now.

He sat down on a chair next to your bed and held one of your hands gingerly. It was already turning cold, and he hated it. He felt freshly made cuts and bruises along with older scars on your palm. His gaze fell on your face. The scratch you got from the rebel’s ambush was still partially healing. He took in your features with intense concentration, engraving them in his memory. He despised the fact that you looked so much at peace right now – when you just left his entire life in turmoil. He needed so badly to shake you back to life or something, but he knew that there was no point now. He lifted your hand up to his lips, kissing it in a tender manner, a weak replacement for the one you both missed maybe an hour or two before.

Just when he let go of your hand, the doctor rushed in with news.

“Sire, his majesty has passed away due to a…similar poisonous arrow shortly after victory.”

Both the people he knew wanted to win the most were dead just after it happened. Ironic, he thought - this was worthless now.

King Sunghoon walked through the cemetery for soldiers who had sacrificed their lives for the country. He stopped right in front of one which had many flower bouquets, a lot of them from his own previous visits, all of them your favorite flowers. He got on his knees on the right side of your gravestone, head bowed in respect and hands folded in his lap.

“Hello, Y/N. I know I’ve come to see you many times before, but I can’t help it. I miss you so much. You left too soon. I still believe that I should have taken that arrow instead of you…although it was for the better in hindsight. At least your last memory was of me and your pain ended quickly.”

Silence. He quickly wiped his eyes.

“I love you, Y/N. I still do, so much. I should move on by now, but it’s hard. Not when you meant so much to me, not when you changed me. A little for the worse, mostly for the better.”

He laughed dryly, looking at his hands. An expensive ring gleamed on his ring finger.

“I married a queen who I liked a lot. Not the Hwan princess, although she and I keep in touch often. We’re allies now. Kind of ironic, since I lost you and the old man in a war against that same kingdom’s old ruler.”

He wasn’t willing to let himself break, what if someone walked in on him sobbing over a dead soldier's grave? What would they think? He poked his eyes with his fingers, still in misery. No matter how much he tried, everything in his brain led back to you. While he didn’t want you to fade or leave his mind exactly, you were only meant to be a guest, visiting occasionally, not a permanent resident, not someone he still needed. When he calmed down, he quietly lifted his crown off his head and put it on top of your gravestone. He placed a solemn hand on it, closing his eyes. “This is a love stained crown, tainted with you and I, along with all our memories. Your affection will never wash away, no matter how much I try. I miss you and I love you, and I hope you’re doing better, wherever you are.”

#mallow’s works #mallow’s oneshots #divider by fairytopea #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen royal au #enhypen angst #sungoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon angst #sunghoon royal au #enhypen fic #sunghoon fic #sunghoon prince au #sunghoon enhypen #kflixnet

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buckera · 2 months

Note

You seem to be on neutral ground about the ship war (I try to do the same) and you also seem relatively well caught up on all 911 news. So I wanted to ask, do you think Buddie might actually still go canon?

Personally I don't think it's likely for several reasons, but a lot of other fans seem pretty convinced it's still on the table maybe even soon.

when it comes to shipping itself i am pretty neutral, yeah, when it comes to fandom behaviour... idk i have a bunch of people blocked and muted on both sides, so make of that what you will.

i will say that though that i personally have not seen death threats and slurs thrown around that much on one side, while on the other it's... yeah. we all saw how the common talking point is either "well he's a bad person so i am clearly a good person if i wish terrible suffering on him" or "we've always been hateful, but it's just for fun so you should all lighten up" and i'm not exactly down being associated with people like that.

the way i see it is that Tim wanted to (maybe still wants to) take the show into the direction of canon buddie eventually, (but this is where i remind everyone that we might get 7 more seasons or s8 might be the last, cuz you never really know)

i think he was setting things in motion for a lot of different things this season and that was supposed to be one of them, especially if you go by the interviews and how he talked about just doing what he wanted to do, without letting the fans' interpretations get to him... however that was before he was receiving death threats over a 3-minute cut scene that would've cost thousands of dollars in licensing fees to release, according to him.

it was before bt gained quite a sizeable fanbase, before people started to lean into his accidental invisible string theory, which is frankly a writing goldmine to stumble upon. he was incredibly excited for the bi Buck storyline according to Oliver and that storyline will forever include Tommy, as both Tim and Oliver mentioned as well (Oliver going as far as saying he hopes the character stays around regardless of where the relationship ends up going, because Tommy is now a core part of who Buck is).

certain part of the fanbase seems to think they know the actors personally and know exactly what they think and how they feel about each other and the storyline

(see: people saying that Oliver is upset about where the bi Buck storyline is going, even though he literally didn't comment on it at all since he's been on hiatus and now isn't contractually obligated to promote the show and give interviews.

also claiming that Oliver doesn't like Lou which may or may not be the case, though he only ever said majorly positive things about him, so did the rest of the cast and Tim. but even so, do they think Oliver is such a bad actor that he can't be a professional and still work with him? genuine question. it's a part of the grownup world to work with people you don't like, but actors aren't their characters and whatever Oliver feels about Lou, Buck still likes Tommy, so that's the end of that discussion imo)

anyway, my point is that Tim and Oliver and even Ryan to some extent were talking about not giving in the hysteria of buddie fans and just keeping the story on the track they want to set it on and only going into that direction if it makes sense for the characters and is a truthful way of telling their stories.

again, that was before the overwhelming aggression, general homophobia (which, wow), death threats made against Tim and Lou and (seemingly) chasing Lou off of social media.

i'd say it all depends on Tim and if he feels petty enough and enjoys writing for bt enough to take it away or if he wants to go with his original vision (which, obviously i don't know him or what goes on in his head, but i personally get the sense that canon buddie was the direction he wanted to go into)

all in all, it's all speculation, but the behaviour shown by some people in the fandom is truly disgusting and disturbing and i really don't think it's justified over some fictional men dating or not dating.

and as a sidenote: acting entitled towards a queer ship becoming canon is the dumbest fucking thing in fandom history. you do know that the ship that started it all, that appeared in countless media over the last 60+ years is still not canon, right? what makes you think that we "deserve" canon buddie? especially based on everything i just outlined above.

#sorry it got long but i feel like this a pretty nuanced topic #even if nuance is like holy water to satan on this site smh #911 #911 abc #ask #anon #buddie #i guess

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alwaysonthemend · 11 months

Text

Author's Note: Hello hello! She's finally here and I am SO very excited for you all to read! As I mentioned before, this story will most likely be around 12 parts and I will be updating with a new chapter every other week. I hope ya'll enjoy!

Finally, without further adieu!

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

Part I: Into the Storm

Word Count: 5081

Warnings: Threats of violence / death of family members (in the past, non graphic)

:¨·.·¨:☾☆༺ 𓆩⚔︎𓆪 ༻☆☽:¨·.·¨:

Whence they come and whence they go

Ere ever the waves dance to and fro.

‘Cross cold grey stones and empty shore,

Ne’er rest or break since days of yore.

And from the depths a face doth creep,

Pallid and haggard from the deep.

And as I watch out on the sea,

I beg you please: come home to me.

:¨·.·¨:☾☆༺ 𓆩⚔︎𓆪 ༻☆☽:¨·.·¨:

July, 1709

The pitter patter of tiny feet slapping against the wooden floorboards breaks through the silence of the room.

“Get back here!” A voice calls angrily, followed shortly by the sound of heavy footfalls.

There is no answer other than laughter – a child’s laughter, as the chase continues. The girl – no older than eight or nine years old, runs past the doorway towards the balcony overlooking the town below. She skids to a stop at the railing, wide eyes staring down at the drop. Trapped and with nowhere to go, she turns to face her father with a guilty smile.

“Give it to me.” Her father demands, stepping out to meet her on the balcony. He’s angry, though her young mind has yet to place the seriousness of his tone.

“But Papa-”

“Now.” He silences her, thrusting his hand outwards towards her tiny frame.

Hanging her head in defeat, the young girl brings her hand out from behind her back, a thick, old volume clutched between her tiny fingers. Mercilessly, her father yanks the book from her grasp, an angry huff escaping him at the sight of her face contorted in anger.

“These,” her father seethes, waving the book about in his grip, “are not stories meant for children. Especially not for a young lady. Do you understand me?”

The girl huffs a breath, jutting her bottom lip outwards as she looks up to her father. Though he towers over her, there is a challenge in her eyes.

“Why am I not allowed to read them? They are just stories, Papa!”

He shakes his head at her, disappointment clear on his face.

“Stories that are not good for young girls like you. You are far too impressionable. Pirates and adventures are not the subjects on which you should spend your time. You would be much better suited towards placing your focus on your own lessons – instead of mucking about like a heathen.”

The girl rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest in challenge. The fire in her eyes has not dimmed at his words – but rather seems to have only grown brighter.

“Papa, I do focus on my classes. But I do not see why I should not be allowed to read such stories in my own time for my own amusement. It harms no one!” She does not stutter as she speaks, clearly a rehearsed argument.

“Enough!” Her father’s voice rises – his own frustration at her growing by the second. “I will not tell you again, Y/n: stop it with these stupid stories of pirates raids and mystical creatures. Piracy is nothing to be sneezed at or enjoyed – especially not by any daughter of mine.”

As he speaks, the girl turns to walk back inside, pointedly refusing to meet his gaze. Her steps fall heavy as she purposefully stomps her feet as she walks past him.

Fast as lightning, his rough hand darts out to grip her bicep – thick fingers wrapping around the delicate skin harshly. Without warning, he yanks her towards him, bringing their faces just inches apart.

“Listen to me, girl.” He mutters lowly, eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. “Any more trouble from you… and you will wish that you had listened to me the first time.” There is a warning in his voice now, unspoken but so very clear. He is no longer asking. She knows what punishment lies in wait for her. It’s a punishment she’s received before that she’s not eager to experience again.

“Yes, Papa.”

“We are finished here.” He releases her, turning on his heel to stride back inside.

The girl frowns as she rubs where his fingertips had pressed into her skin. A sigh escapes her. Her shoulders droop in defeat. It is not the first time that she has been ridiculed by her father, though she’s growing old enough now that it is no longer taken lightly as it used to be. She is old enough to know better now – and her father’s anger only grows with each passing day. She hates it here.

:¨·.·¨:☾☆༺ 𓆩⚔︎𓆪 ༻☆☽:¨·.·¨:

November, 1720

Easthallow is not a town of splendour – at least, not anymore. What used to be a prospering fishing town now reduced to nothing but a washed up port city, forgotten by the rest of the world. The town has fallen into disrepair, and its people are too tired to fix it.

The house is perched not so far from the cliffs of Tunstead and sits ominously atop the hill. It’s less of a house and more of a fortress. A fortified conglomeration of walls that only vaguely resemble something that could be considered a home. The Calloway mansion had fallen into disrepair, just as Easthallow had. Though, it cannot be said that the two are not connected. The Calloways had long been the sole proprietors of wealth for the sleepy little port town, and their wealth and influence had extended far across the waters, pulling in merchant ships and trade that made this little town boom into a home of bustling commerce. No one knew where the Calloway fortune had come from for sure – but most had their guesses that it had not come from a place savoury in nature. There was no doubt that the wealth of the Calloways came from their dealings with royals in the North, though no one was ever brave enough to ask them for proof. The people of Easthallow were more than willing to turn a blind eye to the dealings of the Calloways, and took pleasure instead in the fruits of their (most likely) illegal business.

But as the years went by, season after season of wealth and commerce, the Calloway fortune slowly began to run out. Their ships, once seemingly blessed with good fortune, began to sink on a regular basis. Old friendships (borne of blackmail, surely, but strong nonetheless) fell apart, leaving the Calloways to slowly rack up more and more debt until at last, the family fortune ran out. The masses of servants that tended to the mansion were let go, until finally there only resided a small number of Calloways left inside it, withering away alongside their fortune.

And now, all that lies within this rotting fortress of ill-gotten wealth, is my grandmother – the ageing matriarch of the Calloway empire, and myself. It’s sad, really, to think about what my family once was – but in a detached sort of way. My mother had died of fever when I was just three weeks old and my father had been a brute, driven mad by grief and loneliness. He was never home, constantly sailing off to… somewhere. He never told us. He died at sea and I didn’t even cry. And then it was just me and my grandmother in this God-forsaken house, surrounded by the ghosts of a past that I didn’t know. The mystical nature of my Calloway family history had kept my young mind intrigued for a time, but it had quickly dwindled with age. I know only as much as the rest of this town knows, as my grandmother had never been willing to tell me anything of my family history. I had given up years ago.

Instead, I spent my time in our library, content to busy myself in the stories buried within the thousands of pages – focusing my attention onto tales of magic and sea-faring adventures instead. I am not sure if it was the boredom, or some lingering resentment that I carried for my father that made me love them so. Either way, I was content – content in becoming a recluse as a child, content to sit with my books alone. My grandmother, I think, was simply grateful that I left her alone. There is no small bit of resentment in the old woman towards me – the very last Calloway. I know that, had I been a boy, she would have at least been comforted in that the Calloway name would be carried on after her death.

Though I still owe the woman much – as she taught me everything I know. But I am no fool; had my mother birthed a boy before she had me, I am sure that my grandmother would never have even so much as looked in my direction. But since I am all that there is, she taught me much in my youth. She taught me how to read the coded letters that my ancestors had left behind, and how to steer a ship, and how to travel following only the stars. All things that proper Calloways had to know back in their days of seafaring.

And as age continued to ravage her frail body, I know that she regretted not having been more affectionate with me as a child.

Grandmother died on my 20th birthday, and I had cried empty tears as I watched her casket be lowered into the ground. I think my sadness had been borne more of guilt than sorrow – what type of granddaughter was I to not be heartbroken over my last relative’s death?

–

The Golden Perch is a small, humble tavern just a five minute walk from the port. The earnings are meagre and the patrons rude but it is all I have to call my own. Thomas, the owner, had been the only one kind enough to offer a Calloway a job, and I had jumped on the opportunity. Bar work, though nothing glorious, gave me purpose at least. When the books ran out, when I read and reread them enough that I could no longer stand them, I needed something else to take up my time. And The Golden Perch had given me that.

Tonight, only a few patrons have braved the storm outside. Thunder rattles the dinghy wooden walls, the fire in the fireplace dwindles with each gust of wind from the chimney, and I am hopeful that I might get to close up early tonight. Thomas had gone home hours ago, leaving the tavern solely to me for the rest of the night.

The quiet murmuring of the patrons is interrupted by the slam of the front door, and all eyes turn to the threshold at the loud entrance. The storm outside rages on, and the cold wind entering the open door plunges the room into a damp chill. The fire flickers pathetically.

“Everyone on the floor!”

A deep voice cuts through the confused whispering and a man steps in from the chaos of the night. The tone of his voice leaves no space for argument, and the patrons all lower themselves slowly to the ground.

But I cannot move. I am rooted to the spot as my eyes take in the stranger and his men as they march into the small tavern.

Five men disperse themselves throughout the room, each of them drawing cutlasses from their waists and holding them out menacingly towards the tired, terrified fishermen who sit huddled on the floor.

The sixth man, clearly the leader, strides quickly across the room until he reaches the bar. He’s clad in black pants and a white billowy shirt unbuttoned down to his naval, covered from the storm by a long black coat that almost touches the floor. He’s got long brown hair that’s tied back by a black ribbon, and several expensive looking silver medallions rest against his chest. The golden handle of his cutlass glitters at his waist thanks to the light from the fire.

His face, despite the fear coursing through me, brings heat to my cheeks. His eyes are a deep brown and his lips are pink and plump looking. His jawline and nose are sharp, accentuated by the dim light. His tan skin is unmarred, save for a thin white scar starting at his hairline, cutting through his eyebrow, and ending just on the outer corner of his eye. It must have been lucky that the cut hadn’t taken his eye.

“Who are you? What do you want?” I will the tremor in my voice to subside as I raise my chin in defiance at him – hoping to give him the impression that I’m not afraid.

The man extends his arm outwards, splaying his palm against the bartop and tapping his fingers against the wood.

“My name is none of your concern.. And I’m looking for someone.” He says lowly, eyes glittering dangerously at me from beneath his thick lashes.

“And who might that be?”

He inhales sharply through his nose, straightening himself and pulling his hand from the bar top to rest it on the handle of his cutlass. Everything about him screams authority.

“Calloway.” He finally answers, and the air punches itself from my lungs. I fight to keep my expression steady as my heart pounds in my chest so hard I’m sure he must be able to hear it.

“Never heard of ‘em.” I lie, placing my hands on my hips to hide the way that they shake. “Must be in the wrong town.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, lass.” He smiles, revealing perfectly white teeth. “You see…” He starts, drawing his cutlass from its sheath and brandishing it proudly in front of him. “I need something from Edward Calloway, and I’m not leaving here until I get it.”

This time, I know that I fail in keeping my expression passive at the mention of my father’s name. Surely enough, his smile widens.

“Oh? So you do know of Edward Calloway." He hums, a sinister look spreading across his face. "You're going to tell me where he is, my good lady… or my men kill everyone in this room.”

At that, the other patrons all begin to panic, frenzied whispers breaking out amongst themselves as the other men step even closer to them, their blades gleaming dangerously.

“He’s dead. Edward Calloway is dead. Has been for a long time. There aren’t any Calloways left anymore.” I tell him, and I revel in the slight slump to his shoulders. He hadn’t been expecting that.

One of his men, a man with light brown curly hair, turns to look at his leader, his eyes carrying in them a silent question. The two stare at each other for a moment, seemingly carrying on a conversation without words. Finally, the leader steps towards the door.

“Kill them all.”

“What?” The curly headed man asks with wide eyes. He looks horrified.

“Did I stutter?”

“Wait!” One of the fishermen shouts, causing a blade to be pressed into his neck. “She's a Calloway!” He says frantically, pointing towards me with an accusing finger. "She's Edward Calloway's daughter!'' He says it like it's an insult, spittle flying from his lips as he points at me.

Dread overtakes me like ice water being dumped over my head, but I cannot blame the man. Old sins cast long shadows after all, and no one in this town would be willing to give up their lives for a Calloway.

The leader turns on his heel, a menacing expression on his face. I feel as though I’m nothing but a small animal, cowering in the face of its predator. He rounds the bar top, gripping my bicep in his hand and squeezing tightly. I can’t help but to wince as his fingertips press into my skin harshly. He leans in close, so close that his lips just barely graze the shell of my ear.

“That true, lass?” He asks, pressing the blade of his cutlass into the skin of my neck.

I swallow and nod, body trembling in his hold.

“And you live here?” He asks again, nodding his head towards the stairway that goes upstairs. It’s a vacant room though, reserved only for patrons that are too drunk to make it home.

“No.” I whisper. “Not far from here, though.”

He nods, tightening his grip on my arm even more before turning to the curly haired man again.

“Joshua, return to the ship. Wait for me there.”

Another man, this one with long brown hair that reaches all the way down to the middle of his back, speaks up.

“You’re not going alone. Have you lost your mind?”

“Jacob, you're being reckless. This isn't-” Joshua speaks up, pinning his leader (apparently named Jacob) with a fiery expression.

“Enough! My brothers the two of you may be, but I am still your captain. You will not question me.”

The rest of his men only look on in silence, eyes darting between the three men as they stare at each other. Finally, Joshua’s shoulders drop in defeat. He keeps his cutlass drawn but lowers it, the rest of the men following suit.

“The rest of you,” Jacob orders, scanning his eyes across the terrified faces of the fishermen, “Get lost. You never saw us. We were never here.”

They all clamour to their feet, tripping over themselves in their bid to get out the door. The storm outside has finally died down to nothing but light rain, and each of them scatter our into the darkness like mice abandoning ship. Jacob’s men follow after them, Joshua stopping to look over his shoulder one last time before stepping out into the night, leaving you alone with their captain.

“Are you going to kill me?” I whisper, the tremble in my voice obvious.

“Not yet." He whispers. "You said you did not live here.” He says, voice growing louder as he drags me roughly towards the door. I fight to keep my balance as he all but lifts my feet from the floor.

“I do not.”

He stops, grip still tight on my arm. He looks at me, waiting for me to continue, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction. He sighs heavily, eyes rolling backwards at my defiance.

“I do not have time for this. I need something. Now. And your father was the man who had it.”

I weigh my options silently. There is no doubt in my mind that I will most likely be dead before the night is over. There is no mercy in the eyes of this stranger. I can refuse and no doubt he would kill me right here… let me bleed out alone and my body grow cold until it’s found tomorrow morning by an unsuspecting Thomas. Or, I can take him back to that wretched place that I call home and pray that he finds whatever it is that he’s looking for. Maybe then, I could convince him to spare me.

“My father’s things are still in his study. I have not touched them. If he really did possess whatever it is you seek, it would be there.”

Jacob nods once, sheathing his cutlass at last. I sigh in relief.

“And you will take me to it.” It is not a question, more a demand that he’s phrasing nicely.

“Yes. I will.”

“And is there anyone there that might get in my way?” He asks, and I shake my head.

“I live alone.”

He hums, and I can feel it as the sound reverberates through his chest.

“I am going to let you go now and you will lead me there. Try to run…” he warns, lips once again pressed against my ear, “You’ll be dead before you even realize that I've caught you.”

I nod.

He releases his grip and I bring my hand up to rub where he’d been holding me so tightly. I know that it will bruise. A brief flicker of… something, flashes through his eyes at the action before his expression smooths over, once again becoming blank as he waits for me. The rain has stopped but night has fully fallen. I reach upwards and grab one of the lit lanterns from above the bar top, holding it aloft in front of me as I lead us out into the night.

–

I watch out of the corner of my eye as his gaze sweeps upwards, taking in the rotting fortress as we ascend the steps. Though my last name may be Calloway, I have never felt any sort of ownership over this house – it has always been, simply, the place that I must stay. I have never felt embarrassed at its disrepair before, but as I watch Jacob’s eyes scan this terrible place, shame begins to pool deep in my belly. I hate the feeling.

“You never told me your name.” His voice startles me from my shame-filled thoughts and I cut my eyes to him quickly.

“You would not give me yours.”

His lips quirk into a smile.

“And yet you still learned it anyway. It seems only fair that I know yours in return.”

“Y/n.” It slips past my lips with hardly a second thought and I curse myself for giving it to him. I cannot say why I told him, only that I felt powerless to deny him.

“Y/n.” He repeats, and the sound of my name from his lips sends a shiver down my spine.

The front door creaks as I open it, making me cringe slightly at the loud sound. We step through the threshold, and immediately the cold dampness of the house envelopes us.

“Lovely place.” Jacob says with a grin but I don’t glorify him with a response. Instead, I begin to ascend the ornate staircase that leads to the second floor.

“You live here alone?” He asks, following behind me closely.

“Yes. My grandmother died this past spring. We’re the only ones in the family left.” I tell him as we reach the top.

“Hardly a place for a young woman to live alone.”

I scoff at him, leading him down the winding hallways. It angers me the way he says it, as if he truly is concerned. As if he has not just threatened my life.

“Why do you care?” I snark, stopping in front of the mahogany door that leads into my father’s study. I had not stepped foot into the place since his death all those years ago.

“I don’t.” He says coldly.

I nod once and push open the heavy door.

Immediately, my nose is assaulted by the dust that floats through the air. Every surface is covered, and I fight the cough that tries to claw its way from my throat. I step forward and enter the room fully, holding the lantern up so I can see his old desk. It’s a massive thing – taking up a whole corner of the small study. It’s expensive, that I know – imported from somewhere overseas. I was never allowed to touch it as a child. I place the lantern onto it before jumping upwards to sit (enjoying the small bit of satisfaction that the action gives me, even though my father is not here to see me do it).

Jacob rounds the corner of the desk, pulling the drawers open and beginning to rummage through. Little bits of his hair have fallen out from where he has it tied back, and the way they frame his face makes him seem softer somehow.

“And what exactly are you looking for?” I ask him, sliding the lantern closer to the edge of the desk so that he can see better.

“Directions.” He supplies, not looking up from his task.

“To what?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Okay.” I sigh. “Why did my father have it?”

Finally, Jacob stills his movements and looks up, appraising me silently.

“He traded a lot of money for it. It took me a long time to track it down.” He finally answers, looking back downwards to continue his rummaging. “Your father was involved with some dangerous people.”

“I wouldn’t know. I know nothing of my family.”

It’s silent between us for a long moment, broken only by the sounds of him pulling open drawers and searching through papers. After what seems like forever, he finally throws his hands up in defeat.

“God damn it!” He exclaims, and I startle.

He falls into my father’s chair, chest heaving as his eyes frantically scan the desk. The desk is bare except for a few sheets of paper covered in my father’s lilting handwriting, an accounts notebook, and his reading glasses. The drawers have been completely searched through on both sides.

“It’s not here.” He sighs, shoulders dropping as he places his head in his hands. A distant feeling of fear still thrums through my bloodstream, but I cannot help the sympathy that flows through me at the sight. He just looks so… sad.

“I am sorry.” I tell him, and I am shocked to find that I mean it, somehow.

He looks upwards at the sound of my sincerity. His dark eyes have pooled with unshed tears that glisten in the light of the lantern and I am struck suddenly with the desire to reach out and touch him – to comfort him somehow. His pain seems to radiate from him, enveloping me in a blanket of misery.

“It is what it is.” The sorrow in his voice causes a dull ache to thrum in my sternum.

I glance around, desperately trying to find somewhere else that my father might have hidden something important. The walls are covered in old paintings – family members that I never met and don’t even know the names of. A bookcase sits off to the side, but it is empty. My grandmother had taken the books and placed them in the library downstairs years ago. There would be no way to know which ones had been kept here by my father before. The fireplace, filled with old, dusty ashes sits barren and cavernous. There is a cracked leather armchair in front of it and nothing else. I look upwards to the mantle, decorated only by a round mirror with gold accents and a framed painting of my mother.

I pause.

Grabbing the lantern, I rise and walk slowly over to the mantle. I grab the picture frame and bring it back to my father’s desk, noting the way that Jacob’s eyes track my every movement. Placing the lantern down, I turn the frame over and take the back off. The painting of my mother flutters out and lands on his desk, along with a yellowed, folded up stack of papers that had been tucked behind the picture.

Jacob reaches forward, a slight tremble to his hand, and slides it towards him. I watch in rapt attention as he unfolds it and leans in closer to the lantern in order to read the first page. I watch as his expression falls from hopeful to defeated yet again.

“It’s nonsense.” He says angrily, slamming it downwards onto the desk with a loud smack. “Utter nonsense.”

I peer over at it, tilting my head and squinting to read it. My heart rate picks up as I scan the page, brain working tirelessly to try and remember the symbols and patterns.

“It’s not nonsense. It’s in code.”

Jacob catches my gaze with wide eyes, lips slightly parted at my words.

“Can you read it?”

I nod.

“With time.” I tell him, reaching out to grab them. “There’s a lot here and it's been a long time, but I think I could read it.”

“I don’t have a lot of time. I need to leave. By tonight.” He says, tone suddenly demanding as he stands abruptly. “You will translate it. Now.”

I furrow my brows, holding the pages tight to my chest.

“Well you’re going to have to make time. This is not something that can be done right away. If I read them.”

Fast as lightning, Jacob places a palm in the middle of the desk and lunges across it, using his body weight to shove me backwards and slam my back into the wall. I keep the papers clutched tight to my chest, breath stuttering out as fear overtakes me once again. It’s like a flip was switched – the man standing in front of me now reduced to nothing but a wall of rage and aggression. He presses in close, breathing heavily as his hand reaches upwards to wrap around my throat. He doesn’t squeeze, but the threat is there, loud and clear.

“You will read it.” He orders, a growl deep in his throat.

“Or what?” I goad him. “You can’t kill me.”

He sighs. He knows I’m right. He moves his hand from my throat and I flinch away from him – afraid that he’s going to strike me.

But he shocks me instead.

His rage is still palpable, and I can tell by the twitch of his fingers that he wants nothing more than to use physical force to get me to obey him, but the fight drains from his tense shoulders as he sinks to his knees at my feet, dark eyes staring up at me in the dim light of the lantern.

“Please.” He whispers.

I know immediately that I cannot deny him. It’s as if my very soul is calling out to him – drawn to him in a way that I cannot begin to understand. It feels like he was meant to find me here, alone in this terrible place – rotting away along with the walls around me. Whether by God or by Fate, he was meant to find me. His sorrow and anger radiate for him in waves, threatening to choke the air from my lungs. He needs this.

Somehow I know that he will not survive it should I deny him. My decision was made from the very moment I first locked eyes with him. I will help him in any way that I can.

“I will help you. But I need time. It cannot be done quickly.”

He nods, staying on his knees as if he’s too tired to rise.

“I understand. But I must leave tonight. The thing that I am seeking… I have only a few weeks to reach it. If not, it will all be for naught.”

His vagueness frustrates me to no end but I understand that I will receive no more from him tonight.

“Do you know at least in which direction you must go from here?”

He nods.

“Then you must take me with you. And I will do my best to translate it as we go. Is that acceptable to you?”

He nods again solemnly, looking up at me from his place at my feet.

“It is.”

:¨·.·¨:☾☆༺ 𓆩⚔︎𓆪 ༻☆☽:¨·.·¨:

Part 2

Mirror of the Damned taglist:

@jakeyt @joshym @sacredjake @carbondancingthroughtime @literal-dead-leaf @sinarainbows @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @aflame4goinghome @writingcold @ignite-my-fire @mysticalstarcatcher @brinlygvf @vanfleeter @chewbeka22 @starcatcherchords @char289

#mirror of the damned #dee's writing #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fanfiction #pirate jake kiszka #jake kiszka

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tayloralisonswift · 9 months

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i'm researching bettygate and received this a few weeks ago. it's really important to read. bettygate was not just one night + it was much worse than we thought. i've made tiny cuts here and there because apparently tumblr has a word limit. it has to be under read more but please do!!

The truth is that I experienced Bettygate firsthand and I was surprised to come across this post and discover that there are people who still think about it and give it the importance it needs. At that time I was 17, so I was still a minor and had a blog for just a couple of years. I was a gaylor or rather kaylor, but despite following some theories and blogs, I did it mainly out of fanaticism and entertainment. If I ever made a post or posted a photo about it, it was out of pure innocence and humor, in the same way I get excited about a couple from a tv-show, although now I am aware that we are talking of real people and it's not appropriate. I did everything out of respect and ignorance though. I suppose, I felt comfortable with the community and made great friends, as I felt I was in a safe space where I could be myself and vibe with other queer swifties who felt the lyrics of her songs in the say way I do. That was freedom for me and it really felt like home. Maybe that was my mistake, I got to the point where I felt "too safe" and confident in this space, in theory free of judgment.

But then it happened. At first I began to receive anon insults and death threats, although I did not take them seriously and I continued to feel safe. Then they started to be daily and several times a day, so I ended up turning anon off. After a few weeks, I began to receive messages (both asks and private message) from newly created blogs, without a profile photo or anything, that threatened me more seriously so that I would stop talking (the threats were increasingly serious and more explicit, demanding me to commit suicide). From then on I began to be more afraid. Out of pure ignorance, I didn't realize that inside my blog I had an "about me" section where I also linked my socials (twitter and instagram) in case my friends and other swifties wanted to follow me in good faith and find me on other networks. That was the biggest mistake I ever made, that I have sadly learned not to repeat, which is why today I am so cautious with my privacy. The thing is that one of them managed to get my instagram and started threatening me there too, but this time it did alarm me. They were following me for several months and somehow managed to access personal data and even follow my own relatives that I had there (my family and my parents, above all, are very conservative and religious here in latam. Today although I am of legal age they still don't know about my sexual orientation and relationships, everything is taboo. I don't have a very good relationship with my father either and at that moment I'm sure that if he had found out about all of this he would have thrown me out of the house). But this person even told me my parents' names, and the area where I lived, and that if I didn't stop talking about conspiracy theories or expressing my gaylor feelings out loud, even if it was only about songs, they were going to make a move and talk to my parents, and tell them the "kind of person I was". That's when the world came crashing down on me, I was terrified. I took screenshots of all the conversations and deleted all my socials, including Instagram, something that also surprised my family and that I couldn't explain to them. But since they still had my parents' accounts, I was terrified and crying every day thinking that at some point, they would be able to talk to them. I became obsessed with this and was really depressed for almost a year. After a few months I couldn't take it anymore and decided to go back to tumblr, in case I found something else or there was someone talking about it. Maybe people had exposed those who attacked gaylors in such a cruel way, or maybe they had rectified and apologized for it. But no, there was nothing. No one was talking about it anymore, it was as if everything had been a nightmare that had evaporated. I realized that many of the blogs I followed, including friends, deactivated and since I no longer had any socials, I had no way to find them and regain contact or ask them about their own situation. Everything was gone. I felt very alone and disconcerted. I couldn't talk to anyone... Not even in private, and I never again felt comfortable or safe enough to post the slightest queer comment regarding Taylor and her music. I didn't even talk about my sexual orientation anymore or write it in my bio. At least it made me less anxious to know that my parents never received any strange comments or any type of threat. But just in case, although I was about to bring up the subject, I couldn't bring myself to risk it and as I saw that everything around me had returned to calm, I decided to try to forget about it in order to heal and so I deleted all the screenshots and everything that linked me to what happened. I became a new blog from scratch, someone who apparently wasn't even here when it happened, with almost a new identity (I now use another name online), without exposing any type of privacy and I decided to limit myself to reblog the photos of my favorite artist and not get into discourse, not even expressing my opinions too much, except for some vague comments in tags, up until this moment.

I'm sorry if the text is too long, I tried to explain myself the best I could and again I don't know if any of this is going to be helpful at all. Selfishly, I think I needed to get it off my chest after so much time in silence. I just wish some people get to see it and be aware of how serious a seemingly harmless case like this one can become.

#thank you anon. i love you so much #anon is on rn so you or anyone else are welcome to share more #i love you i love you i'm so glad you're okay i love you.#bettygate #tw suicide #(threats)

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starboybutler · 2 years

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Cotton Candy Land (Ch.1)

summary: on top of elvis’s already-packed performance schedule, he had been receiving all kinds of violent threats. it had started when they were out of town, in houston, but they seemed to follow him. the first threat had been harmless enough– a shoddy note with chicken-scratch writing that said “i am going to kill you”, but now they were becoming physical– and taking a toll on elvis.

word count: 3496

warnings: age regression, crying, death threats, panic attacks, tantrums

notes: hi! this is my third attempt at a multi-chapter fic, and i hope that it goes well! elvis's age regression has always been a fascinating topic to me, so i wanted to write a fanfiction based on it and how it affected him. i'm including jerry and steve because i like them. we may get smut in the future, as well as some fluff/crushes, but who knows! i'm just really excited to get this first chapter up. shoutout to bee (dontbeecruel) for beta reading!

enjoy!

dim moonlight shone through the thin, white curtains of the work suite, illuminating the room in a pale aura. a heavy, dense silence hung in the air as binder and schilling stood on opposite sides of their paperwork-littered desk, their expressions exasperated.

tonight had been stressful.

on top of elvis’s already-packed performance schedule, he had been receiving all kinds of violent threats. it had started when they were out of town, in houston, but they seemed to follow him. the first threat had been harmless enough– a shoddy note with chicken-scratch writing that said “i am going to kill you”, but now they were becoming physical– and taking a toll on elvis.

in the middle of his performance tonight, two men from the front row hopped up onstage and rushed towards elvis, and things went south. colonel rushed from his seat in the crowd, while jerry, red, and elvis attempted to draw their guns.

the men were quickly subdued, and elvis was dragged off the stage, yelling and screaming that he would kill whoever just charged him. he was furious. the colonel met up with him backstage, and it was suggested to him that the show be stopped due to safety concerns– but elvis insisted he continue. he refused to be pushed off of the stage.

binder pressed his fingers under his aviators, rubbed at the bridge of his nose, and squeezed his eyes shut. he was developing quite the migraine trying to figure out how to deal with all of this. he thought he had security all under control– but knowing the colonel, he had probably done something dumb behind his back to compromise that.

schilling was just as stressed. serving as elvis’s bodyguard, close friend, and public relations– he had a whole myriad of issues to worry about– but the most daunting was the press. he knew those newspaper writers would be on him as soon as they could, asking for any behind the scenes details of the attacks. then there was the problem of elvis’s mental state. even though he insisted he was fine, both binder and schilling knew that the man was growing more and more paranoid with each passing hour. he had barely slept since the first threat. there’s no way he would just shake off this much more jarring one.

“we should…” jerry started, hesitantly. “we should find ep. talk to him. check up on him.”

binder let his sunglasses fall back into place on the bridge of his nose, sighing as he ran a hand through his brunette locks. “will he even let us in his room?” he asks, affixing his wary eyes on schilling. “he's been pretty shaken up lately. he’s not letting anyone in. not even vernon.”

“i know.” jerry sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “i mean, he might let me in, but…”

“over his own father?”

“hey man, vernon and e have a bit of a… rocky relationship.” jerry says, shrugging. “i’m just saying, i might have better chances to be let in.”

binder fell silent, pursing his lips in thought. “it's worth a shot,” he admits, before sighing. “christ– we should really get to all this paperwork though.”

“later.” schilling mutters. “i’m worried about elvis.”

binder gave a curt nod, and followed after the taller man as he stepped out from their workspace. truth be told, he was worried about elvis too– terribly worried– but he just didn't need another earful from the colonel about his ‘hippie work ethic’, and how he was always falling behind on important matters.

sometimes it was maddening how much the colonel was on him. he wanted to walk away at times, but he reminded himself that he took this job for elvis. the colonel was annoying to deal with, of course, but binder needed to stick around to make elvis's job a little more bearable. binder always fought that old toad tooth and nail for ep to have more creative freedoms, but the colonel just had this aura to him. it's like he knew how to twist your words and thoughts just perfectly enough to make you reword yourself until you agreed with him. most of the time, steve opted for pointedly ignoring the man, but sometimes he couldn't help but snap back at him.

jerry was much more skilled at dealing with the colonel. mainly because– for some odd reason– he got along with him. schilling was just that type of guy. he got along with everyone, no matter how unlikeable the other person seemed. maybe it was his good looks, or his southern charm– but whatever it was, the colonel took a liking to him. jerry didn't necessarily see parker as a friend, but he didn't see him as an enemy either. when binder asked about it, schilling said that him and the colonel were a “strictly business” arrangement, and that they just happened to agree in those terms.

hell, maybe jerry should take his job. they’d be a lot more productive without parker poking his nose into everything binder did, and then purposely doing something to render his plans useless.

the two men stepped into the elevator, pressing the button that would take them directly up to elvis’s private room. it wasn't that far of a ride, as the work suite was in pretty close quarters with elvis– in case he needed to speak to binder or schilling about anything. it felt like forever, though– thanks to the tense situation at hand. usually when they visited elvis, it was under a much more light-hearted guise– like for a game of cards, or to see if they could sneak out on the town without getting recognized.

but nothing like this had ever occurred before. who knows how elvis would be feeling? he was so hard to predict sometimes– you’d think he'd be feeling one way after a certain event, only to find him feeling the complete and exact opposite.

the elevator halted, the doors slowly opened and let them onto their desired floor. it was quiet– almost eerily so– as they approached the large, intricately decorated double doors, steeling themselves with a deep breath.

schilling knocked tentatively, holding his breath as he waited for a response.

nothing.

he didn't seem phased. he just knocked again, a bit firmer this time, and spoke loudly enough so whoever was inside could hear.

“ep? it's…it’s jerry ‘n steve,” he said softly, biting his lip. “we uh– wanted to check on ya.”

silence.

binder was starting to get worried at this point– and it's obvious that schilling was as well. the way his brows furrowed together tightly told steve everything he needed to know.

“try the doorknob.” binder said, nodding towards one of the shiny, golden knobs. schilling hummed and tentatively gripped one of them, attempting to turn it and stiffening when it obliged, allowing one of the large doors to open.

steve swallowed heavily. elvis’s doors were almost never unlocked.

he looked over to see jerry borderline panicking. his eyes were wide, and he seemed to be frozen on the spot as he stared into the darkness of the room before him. binder placed a hand on his shoulder lowering his voice a fraction.

“hey– don't panic,” he muttered, giving the younger man’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “we haven't gone in yet. don't assume the worst.”

“okay.” schilling gulped, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to steel himself. “okay. yeah.”

they walked into the room slowly. it was cold and dark– almost pitch black, save for a small bit of moonlight peeking through a crack in the curtains. steve stumbled over his feet a few times, but jerry seemed to know the room like the back of his hand. he swiftly made his way over to the right-hand side of the room, calling out anxiously.

“elvis? it's us, man!”

there was still no response, but binder became aware of a soft, barely-present noise coming from the bed tucked away in the corner. he strained to listen out, trying to figure out what the source of the noise was, only to get thrown off by schilling yelling out again, panicked.

“elvis–!”

“shh!” binder hushed, making jerry's head whip around to face him, half-curious, half-pissed. before he could snap at steve for shushing him in a moment of panic, he seemingly heard the noise as well.

steve held a hand out, blindly feeling for the edge of the mattress. he sat himself down, leaning forward until the noise grew into a more distinctive sound.

someone was crying.

“elvis…?” steve murmured, blinking in attempt to adjust to the dark of the room. “is that you?”

only then, he spotted a lump under the blankets of the bed, quivering and jumping with each harsh noise that left it. instinctively, steve reached out and pulled the blankets away, revealing a red-faced, trembling, crying elvis.

he was curled up into a ball, sniffling gently into the synthetic fur of a small plush bear that was clutched to his chest. his tears glittered in the faint light, illuminating his flushed cheeks– the small bit of his face that they could actually somewhat see.

he looked so small, like a little boy.

“g’way,” elvis sniffled, trying to hide his face behind the now soaked stuffed animal. “leave me ‘lone.”

no one spoke for a brief moment– just out of pure shock. out of all the possible things they could have discovered, this wasn't even a possibility for them– but here they were.

in reality, maybe they should have seen a sort of breakdown coming. the death threats weren't the only thing bothering elvis. the cancellation of his overseas tour had kickstarted this whole series of events. after that, he started his american tour, which was a whole other stressor for him– then the colonel was still so adamant about him performing at the goddamn international twice a day. in other words, elvis was at his limit– and while he had the temper of a thousand suns… he was most likely just exhausted rather than angry.

still…to see him crying, cuddled up to a plush toy was far from expected. though, now that binder pondered on it, it did make a bit of sense. elvis didn't have the easiest of childhoods– growing up dirt poor with only his momma and his love of comic books to skirt him by. maybe what they were seeing was elvis’s way of trying to relive that childhood.

jerry spoke first. it felt appropriate, seeing as he had a closer relationship with elvis. with a curious expression, he knelt down by the bed until he was eye level with the sniffling, trembling elvis.

“hey, you okay, ep?” he asks lowly, his voice gentle and laced with concern. “It’s jerry. a-and steve. we came to check on you, ‘cuz we were worried ‘bout ya after what happened on stage–”

“no!” the raven haired man cried out, harshly jerking his body so that he was facing the wall opposed to schilling. “no no no! don’ talk about that!” he cried out, his voice broken and utterly distraught at the reminder of what went down on stage. he was being absolutely petulant, the tears streaming down his face becoming fatter. jerry cursed under his breath as elvis continued his tantrum. “d-d-don’ wanna think ‘bout it! j-jus wanna go home!”

“alright, alright,” jerry muttered lowly, his expression grew more concerned as elvis went on, his grip on the stuffed bear tightened significantly as he thrashed around. steve felt absolutely helpless as he watched the other man try to calm elvis down, only for the dark haired man to thrash around more wildly in frustration.

binder felt horrible for his boss. seeing him so clearly distraught made his heart clench in a painful way. he could have done a better job to prevent this pain. maybe if he had pushed back against the colonel more– elvis wouldn't be in such a pained mindset.

spurred on by his guilt, he slowly extended a hand towards his boss, laying it on his shin gently. elvis slowed in his thrashing for a moment, thrown off by the touch. he stared at steve, who was just giving him a patient, understanding look. schilling set his jaw, taking the momentary calm as an opportunity to speak once more.

“we’re here, elvis. we just want you to be okay.” he murmured.

the man stilled, his chest heaving as the tears continued to roll down his cheeks hotly, staining the satin of his top with little wet blotches. his wailing slowly turned into sporadic whimpers, his shaky hands reaching out for either of the two men beside him for comfort. they obliged him, scooting closer to elvis and allowing him to cling onto them as tightly as he needed to. he pressed his tear-stained face into the crook of binder’s neck, making the man jolt in surprise. elvis continued sniffling, his plush bear now dangling in his grasp as he weakly sobbed into steve’s warm skin.

the men shared a look, a mix of bewilderment, relief, and slight fear. how long would elvis be like…this?

“what's the matter, elvis?” schilling asked, rubbing a large hand up and down his back. when all he got in response was a series of harsh, hiccupy breaths, jerry hushed him and pat him on the back firmly. “hey, c’mon. it's alright. no more tears, you're alright.”

“take a deep breath.” binder said softly, his voice laced with an unsure, wavering tone that he inwardly cursed at himself for. “just breathe.”

the dark-haired man took a series of deep, shaky breaths, before he lifted his head from the damp crevice of binder’s skin. his eyes were red and glassy, his face shiny with his tears. his lip was trembling– giving him the look of a lost little boy. binder felt an overwhelming urge to protect him.

“...’m sorry,” elvis muttered, his voice soft and hoarse from his earlier crying. “d-didn't mean ‘t yell.” he sniffles, his face flushed with shame as he avoided eye contact with either man. “‘m a bad boy.”

“no, no,” jerry said softly, shaking his head. “you're not bad.”

“yeah.” binder agreed softly, moving a stray piece of hair from elvis’s eyes. “you’ve had a rough day. you're allowed to be upset.”

“b-but i yelled,” he murmured. “i-i yelled at you….’n…i-i-i was bein’ mean.”

“that’s okay. we don't care about that now. we just wanna be sure that you're alright.” steve explained, watching as elvis pawed at his eyes feverishly. “are you alright?”

“mhm.” elvis answered with a pitiful little sniffle, leaning into binder once more. “i’m jus’ tired…’n scared…lonely,” he admitted, pulling the tear stained bear close to his chest. “wan’ go home.”

“i know,” schilling piped up. “we just got a little while longer, and we’ll be back at graceland, playin’ football in the yard. how's that sound?”

“wanna go home to all ‘m stuffies,” he mumbled, rocking back and forth gently. “a-all them in my room, up in ‘m closet…” elvis said softly, smiling gently to himself.

“s…stuffies?” steve asked, curious.

elvis wipes at his nose with his sleeve. “l-like this guy..!” he said, holding up the brown bear in his arms. “e-e-except at home, i-i got lions, ‘n tigers, a-and even little b-b-bunnies….”

“is that right?” schilling asked, a small smile on his lips. “do they all have names?”

“mhm,” his boss muttered, shy as he idly played with his stuffed animal's arms. “all of ‘em.”

“maybe when we get back, you can give us a little tour.” jerry mused, giving elvis a patient little smile.

elvis stared at schilling owlishly, before looking away and flushing a light pink high on his cheekbones. he pressed his face into the fur of his bear once more. “okay,”

steve felt the clenching in his heart be replaced by a warm, fuzzy feeling. seeing him calm, and somewhat demure made him flood with relief– elvis truly seemed happy when he was like this.

was it odd? maybe a little. steve had never seen anything like it where he was from, but in this line of work, he learned to be open-minded. he was just glad it was him and schilling, one of elvis’s closest friends, that happened to stumble upon him in this state of mind, and not someone that might have set him off more– like the colonel, or maybe even vernon.

with a little hum, steve stood. “well, we need to get going. we got a lot of work to get to.”

elvis’s face fell. he looked disappointed. “oh. okay.”

jerry cocked his head to the side at his reaction, leaning down so that he was eye-level with him. “...what's wrong?”

elvis averted his gaze from the two men shyly, swaying back and forth lazily as he muttered softly into the soft, synthetic fur of his teddy bear.

“wan’ you to stay,”

“me?” jerry asked. “or steve?”

“both,” elvis sniffled. “don' wanna be alone.”

jerry and steve shared a curious look, before looking back at the small, frail looking elvis.

“you want us to stay with you?” steve asked, to which elvis nodded in response meekly, wiping at his eyes. his movements were growing more and more sluggish, his eyes becoming droopy and lidded as he spoke again.

“mhm. need…what if someone tries ‘t attack me ‘gain? you’ll stop ‘em, right?” he mumbled, eyes beginning to flutter shut as he slurred out his words. “you’ll protect yittle elvie..?”

steve watched as the man dozed off, the ear of his stuffie between his lips as his breath began to even out. jerry pressed a hand to his lower back, guiding him to lay down fully in the soft, plush pillows.

“i’ll protect you, bud.” schilling muttered, his expression fond as he watched the man nuzzle his nose into his stuffed animal, a small, content smile on his lips.

binder blinked up at schilling, who was already kicking off his shoes and making himself comfortable in the bed beside elvis. he sat up, his eyebrows furrowed.

“are we actually gonna sleep in here with him?”

“i am.” jerry answered simply, settling on his side. “he asked me to, so i’m gonna stay. he needs me.”

“but our work–”

“christ man, if you're so worried about that you don't gotta stay!” schilling whispered, annoyed. “y’can leave if you want, but i’m staying here– where it matters.”

binder felt his face flush with shame under schilling's scornful gaze. he hadn't meant to come off like he didn’t care about elvis, but he just didn't want to have to deal with another long, boring lecture from the colonel because they were behind again. all of this stuff was kind of starting to get to him as well. all he wanted was to get his work done in peace– without hearing the colonel butcher his name and call him a hippie.

“no, i…i’m sorry,” steve muttered, fidgeting with his ascot idly. “i’ll stay. i just– ugh, i don’t wanna hear his mouth in the morning.” binder sighed, undoing the fabric around his neck.

schilling's expression softened slightly in understanding. “yeah, i hear ya. i know he never yells at me directly– but man, i hate hearin’ him yell period.” he murmured, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. steve huffed warily in amusement, before silence fell over the both of them.

“...y’shouldn’t let him talk to you like that.”

“i don't…uh, really have a choice.” steve admitted. “i’m not…the confrontational kind. i prefer to push back in a much less direct way. he just…he just keeps approaching me, though, like he knows how uncomfortable he makes me.”

“he prolly does,” jerry hummed, his voice growing tired. “wouldn't put it past ‘im.”

binder smirked crookedly. “you getting tired on me, schilling?”

“hell yeah,” he mumbled, his eyes halfway closed. “been a long day. we all need some sleep.” he yawned, finally shutting his eyes.

“fine. goodnight.” steve hummed, laying his head down. he didn't get a response– just snoring.

he laughed to himself, studying the two men in front of him. elvis was fast asleep, clutching onto that same little bear for dear life as he chewed on it's ear, mumbling incoherently in his sleep. it made binder think. he mentioned his collection of plushies at home… so how long has this been a thing?

taking elvis’s past into account, and his relationship with his mother, binder suspected that this was more that a quirk or a hobby of his. he seemed like he was genuinely a little boy. like he couldn't control his emotions. that pitiful, petulant look in his eyes, those tears rolling down his flushed cheeks, the worn stuffed bear he clutched onto like a lifeline– maybe it was a lot deeper than just another thing he did.

steve could only wonder on the specifics as he dozed off, the soft snores of the other two men lulling him into a dreamless sleep.

#elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #austin!elvis x y/n #austin!elvis x reader #jerry schilling x reader #steve binder x reader #elvis presley #jerry schilling #steve binder #elvis 2022 #agere #age regression

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glorious-spoon · 9 months

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Fic author interview! I was tagged by @what-alchemy - thank you! No-pressure tagging @phdmama, @incognitajones, @alessandriana, @lynne-monstr, and anyone else who wants to play.

How many works do you have on AO3?

349 publically, maybe a dozen more in anon collections, and two or three that I've orphaned for various reasons.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,349,113, ye gods.

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Calamity's Child (Stranger Things) - 7249 kudos

Body of Memory (Shadowhunters) - 5029 kudos

Star of the Masquerade (Stranger Things) - 4923 kudos

lost souls and reverie (The Witcher - TV) - 3118 kudos

So Newly Charming (Stranger Things) - 2274 kudos

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I used to, but I've been really bad about it in the past year or so. I do read and cherish every comment I get, though.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hard to say! There are a couple of Supernatural ficlets from ~13 years ago with fairly fucked up endings. Of my somewhat recent fic, probably either Empty or Bonny Mad Boys (both for Shadowhunters), with a special mention for my zombie apocalypse Buddie fic, where the dead men lost their bones, although that does at least allow for the possibility of a happy(ish) ending.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Honestly, the vast majority of my fic has happy endings, even when I put them through the wringer first.

7. Do you write crossovers?

I've written a few, mostly for various fic challenges. It's not something I do all that often though.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Oh, yeah. Death threats, even! Shadowhunters fandom was weirdly unhinged about this.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Um, yes. XD

I used to write smut very rarely, and feel extremely awkward about it, and then I decided to write 100k words worth of fills for the Clowntown kinkmeme, and that pretty much cured me of that.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know?

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, several, into a handful of different languages. Always very exciting! I link back if I know about them.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not one that ever actually got posted.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I have been in fandom wayyyy too long to answer this, lol.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I have a really angsty Reddie cheating fic that I wrote like 20k words of and then abandoned. I sometimes think about returning to it, but honestly I probably won't.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I think I write pretty good dialogue - it's definitely one of the things I enjoy the most. Also action and smut, which IMO are pretty similar from a logistical standpoint.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

I am so bad at anything resembling plotting. SO bad. And frankly I always feel like my fluff is stilted and saccharine; I do much better with angst, generally speaking.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I've done it before, but I probably wouldn't now, not the least because I'm really not fluent enough in any other language to be worth it.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

That I actually posted? LOTR RPF. Thankfully, that's been lost to the defunct forums of 2002. I've been writing fic just for my own entertainment pretty much as long as I've been able to read, though.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

Good Omens! I've read a fair amount of fic, but I didn't really get immersed in the fandom until after season 2. I have a couple of ideas that I'm playing around with, but I don't completely feel like I've got the character voices down yet.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written

This changes OFTEN. I think right now, So Newly Charming is the fic I've written most recently that actually came out exactly how I wanted it to. I can reread it without cringing, which is a rarity for me.

#my fic #tag game #thanks for tagging me!

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childofchrist1983 · 1 year

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For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing. - 2 Timothy 4:6-8 KJV

Many have used this reading many times when a loved one has died. Most of the time, it was used for an elderly person who had literally fought the good fight of faith for many years. I hope that the same can be said of me when I die. Paul often referred to his ministry as "the race" which is one way to say, "the course".

Paul had served the LORD Jesus Christ from the time of his conversion to the time of his death. He is encouraging Timothy and letting him know that he is confident in the promises of Jesus as he approaches the end of his life, and that he is also confident that all those who follow Jesus Christ will receive the same reward of eternal life in Heaven and all other rewards that await us there. This confidence gives us all peaceful comfort and hope, and that is why it is chosen for funerals. This is encouragement for Timothy to remain faithful to the Truth and warns him that there will be those who will fall away from the true teachings. He even warns that teachers will rise up that will twist the teachings to their own purposes. It's not just a warning to Timothy, but one for us to heed as well.

This happened in Paul's time and it has happened in every generation since. I have always liked the prologue to Luke's Gospel to respond to false teachings – Use the Holy Bible as a yardstick for finding the truth. Like the Apostles, we are encouraged to fight the good fight by doing the right thing, to keep the faith and not let anything or anyone lead us away from God and His Truth, so that we can and will finish the course of our lifetime still loving Jesus and believing in His promises as He leads us on our walk with Him, on our journey of faith. May He help us to be like Paul who kept the faith in spite of persecution and the threat of death so that we too may receive and wear the Crown of Righteousness once reunited with Jesus in His Kingdom.

Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for His Holy Word and for sending His Holy Spirit so that we might have His grace, not only to awaken us and transform our hearts in our spiritual rebirth and guarantee our eternity with Him, but to also call upon Him whenever we are in need. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for all the reminders of His love and mercy and faithfulness within His Holy Word. He is bigger than any challenge or circumstance in our lives. Knowing this within our minds and our hearts, nothing can deter our faith in Him and His Truth. May we all accept Him and His eternal gift of salvation and ask that He would transform our hearts and lives according to His will and ways. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for His Holy Spirit who saves, seals and leads us. May we always thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for His almighty power and saving grace. For He is our strength, and He alone is able to save us, forgive our sins and gift us eternal salvation and entry into His Kingdom of Heaven.

May we make sure that we give our hearts and lives to God and take time to seek and praise Him and share His Truth with the world daily. May the LORD our God and Father in Heaven help us to stay diligent and obedient and help us to guard our hearts in Him and His Holy Word daily. May He help us to remain faithful and full of excitement to do our duty to Him and for His glorious return and our reunion in Heaven as well as all that awaits us there. May we never forget to thank the LORD our God and our Creator and Father in Heaven for all this and everything He does and has done for us! May we never forget who He is, nor forget who we are in Christ and that God is always with us! What a mighty God we serve! What a Savior this is! What a wonderful Lord, God, Savior and King we have in Jesus Christ! What a loving Father we have found in Almighty God! What a wonderful God we serve! His will be done!

Thanks and glory be to God! Blessed be the name of the LORD! Hallelujah and Amen!

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lovinkiri · 1 year

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Undercover Wild Cat, Chapter Twenty-Three

Description: Sasha has decided it's time to quit being an agent, and she isn't alone either! But when she discovers the secret behind her mother's disappearance, things take a twisted turn for the worst.

Author's Thoughts: Not gonna lie, I tore up a bit writing this 🥲

Warning: Cussing, Graphic Threats of Violence, Twisted Humor?, Mentioned Character Death, Loss of Parent, Self-Blaming, etc.

OC Credit: @jix-the-dragon

Art Credit: @.jabberwockyface

Sasha stood at her front door, waiting for Naomasa to come down and join her. Today was the day she’d finally quit. By the end of the day, she’d no longer be working for the commission. She’d no longer be “Agent Wild Cat”. No, instead, she’d go by a different name. From now on, she’d go by the name “Namir”.

The very thought of changing her identity was a little scary, but she was also just a bit excited. She always did like surprises, and this was certainly a surprising situation. When she started this mission, she didn’t think this was how her mission would end. With her going from agent to hero. But here she was, ready to serve not the commission, but the public. Well, the commission would manage her, but at least they wouldn’t be barking orders and training her into unconsciousness anymore.

Naomasa started coming down the stairs. He was dressed up in a white button-up with a tie, the opposite of Sasha who was dressed in her casual clothing. Looking her up and down, he rose an eyebrow. “Sasha, do you think you should dress classier if we’re going to the commission? I don’t go there often, but people are usually dressed in business attire.” He said, adjusting his tie.

“You’re right. Going into the commission dressed as I am is unusual.” She nodded, confirming his thoughts. “But if they can’t give me the courtesy of telling me that the guy I'm after is millions of levels above me, I’m not wearing a dress or a suit for them. I’m ready to be a normal teenager, so I’m going to dress like it. It’s like… A statement, you could say.” She looked down at herself again, humming softly before giving Naomsas a wide grin. “You look great though. Formal clothes suit you, Nao.”

He sighed softly, a small smile on his face. “That sounds just like you, Sasha.” He chuckled, ruffling her hair. It also sounded like her parents. He walked over to the door, opening it for her. “Let's get going, kid.” He said, motioning for her to go first.

Fixing her hair, she walked through their front door, only to gasp at the sight before her. In front of her house were Eijirou and Denki, who were also dressed their best for the occasion. She wasn’t expecting them, but she was happy to see them. Especially now that the dust had officially settled. She could finally talk with them about something other than kidnappings and rescue missions.

“You guys! What are you doing here?” She smiled, walking over and throwing an arm around each other their necks, pulling them into a hug. They were surprised to receive the affection so suddenly, but then they remembered what Sasha was doing today, and they figured she probably really needed the support.

“We’re here to cheer you on, of course. You know, for emotional support.” Eijirou gave her a grin, as bright as always. His hand found the top of her head and her tail began to curl as she leaned into his palm, which Naomasa took notice of. For a moment, he watched with wide eyes, then he took on a smug expression.

Denki pinched her cheek, smirking at her. “I’m here to make sure you don’t change your mind. Don’t need you going all super secret agent on us again.” He said jokingly, laughing as she gently swatted his hand away, narrowing her eyes playfully. “Just kidding! It’s like he said. Emotional support and all that jazz.” He shrugged,

She watched the two of them for a moment, obviously ecstatic. She couldn’t believe she had such amazing friends by her side. Friends that were willing to walk into the hero commission for something like this, knowing things could get a little messy. Of course, she would never allow for them to get too wrapped up in this, but the fact that they would alone meant a lot.

“Alright, kids. Let’s get going,” Naomasa said, stone-faced again. When he wasn’t around Sasha, he liked to keep his expressions to a minimum. Like agents, police officers weren’t really supposed to wear their hearts on their sleeves. There was no place for something like that on a uniform.

Eijirou and Denki couldn’t help but straighten their backs, voicing their agreement with the man as he began walking. The three of them followed right behind and Sasha giggled as they let out sighs they’d been holding back since Naomasa had spoken to them. She couldn’t believe they were intimidated by him of all people. Though, it made a little sense that she didn’t find him nearly as scary. After all, she’d seen him in many tiaras and so much makeup from all the tea parties she had him attend as a child.

“Don’t worry about him,” She whispered softly, walking between the two boys. They looked at her and saw her pointing at Naomasa subtly. “He’s a big softy, I promise. That’s just how he talks to most people. Comes with the profession and all that. Don’t take it personally.” She assured them, smiling as they visibly relaxed at that. Not only was he Sasha’s guardian, but he was a cop. They wanted him to have good impressions of them, as her friend and future heroes.

“And I wouldn’t have invited the two of you if I didn’t like you, right?” He turned his head just enough to peer at the three of them over his shoulder before looking ahead. “I might not like the trouble you all get into sometimes, but you’ve made Sasha very happy. So… Thank you for that.” He said, smiling softly, though they couldn’t see.

Sasha was momentarily shocked. She hadn’t even thought of how Eijirou and Denki knew to come today, so wrapped up in the excitement of seeing them in the first place. Now she was hearing that Naomasa had found and invited them, going out of his way to surround her with loved ones when she really needed it, despite her tough act. Maybe she was a lot more like him than she thought, but that meant he knew her just as well as she knew him.

“Thanks, Nao. You’re the best.” She said softly, returning the smile that she simply knew was on his face. Not only did she have such amazing friends, but she had the best parent anyone could ask for. How and when did she ever get so lucky?

Sunlight filtered through the leaves of the trees surrounding them, creating patterns on the pavement along with their skin. The walk there felt normal as if she were taking a stroll for the fun of it. If they had been trying to make her less nervous, it was obviously working.

She was laughing and smiling in a way Naomasa had barely seen her do growing up. There was another reason he invited the two boys. He just wanted to see Sasha having a good time with her friends. It made his heart swell with joy and pride to see her so happy. He hoped that she would stay this happy forever, that her friends would always be there for her. And he could see that they would be around for a long time at the very least, especially Eijirou.

“You know, you didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend, Sasha.” Naomasa said, amusement present in his tone. Even without seeing the could look on his face, he could tell she was flustered by the small, surprised noise that left her. He couldn’t help but feel smug. Embarrassing your teenager was a staple of parenthood, after all.

A blush immediately spread across both her face, and Eijirou’s. She began to sum,ble over her words in a way Naomasa had never heard before. When she noticed his shoulders twitching, she narrowed her eyes. “S-Stop laughing at me! You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” She accused, knowing she was right when he simply let out a chuckle.

Eijirou decided to speak up, taking Naomasa more seriously than Sasha. “I have strong feelings for your daughter, sir. She’s super strong, she’s smart, and she’s saved my butt a bunch of time.” He began to smile, glancing at Sasha’s face, which was only getting redder as he spoke. “She’s the prettiest, most amazing girl I’ve ever met.”

Sasha laid her cheek against his shoulder, nuzzling into him. It was almost like she was trying to return the affection and hide her face at the same time. “E-Eijirou, you didn’t have to say all that… But I have really strong feelings for you too. You’re the manliest guy I know…” She said, feeling a little flustered, knowing that Denki and Naomasa were right there. Especially since Denki was giving her a wide, knowing grin.

Naomasa gave a small hum, smiling and shaking his head. Though they only spoke in a couple of words, their feelings for each other were obvious. “Young love. Brings back memories.” He mused aloud, looking up at the sky. His word caught Sasha’s attention.

She looked up at him, her ears perking. “Oh yeah? Did you date in high school too, Nao?” She asked, her eyebrows raising as he immediately began to clear his throat, not answering her question. Grinning, she continued to push. “What, were you a player in school? Were you popular?”

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Naomasa redirected, making the three teenagers laugh.

Eventually, they made it to the commission’s main building. The building and the coffee shop next to it were bustling with busy people, the murmur of conversations, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and pastries. Among the crowd, the four of them stood there, looking up at the tall building. Fidgeting with her hands and glancing around anxiously, Sasha takes a deep breath. She’s never quit anything in her life, and though she’s happy to be moving on, it’s still a first for her. She was never good with firsts.

Sasha took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she looked at her friends and Naomasa. Eijirou, as always a supportive and encouraging presence, stood beside her, offering a reassuring smile. Denki patted her back, also looking up at the building, never having been this close to it before.

“You’ve got this, kid,” Naomasa said, placing a hand on top of her head. She turned her attention to him, relaxing under his patient gaze. “You made it this far, right? Take your time and remember why we’re here today. To secure a better future. The future your parents would want.”

“And hey, you said your mom just went missing, right? Maybe she’s still out there handling business! And if that’s the case, maybe she’ll be back soon now that All For One’s been captured!” Denki said, grinning at her. Naomasa didn’t really approve of his words, he didn’t like Denki getting her hopes up so much for something so important, but his words were helping Sasha, so he couldn’t bring himself to say anything disapproving.

Sighing deeply, she gives a nod, looking at the building in front of her. “I’m ready.” She said quietly. Just like that, she pushed the doors to the building open. Just like the outside of the building, the inside was just as busy. She concluded it was because of AFO’s capture, and the casualties that came with it.

She walked through the halls briskly, not sparing a glance at anyone around her, weaving through the crowds. Once in a while, people would greet her, but she ignored them too. Those weren’t her friends, they were the people who helped to turn her into a child soldier. The people who trained her and beat her down day and night, until she could take it. Long ago, she thanked them for it. Now, having seen the feats her classmates reached without being treated like she was, she wished she could take back every word of gratitude.

Though Eijirou and Denki had never seen the look on her face before, Naomasa had a few times. Everything had seemingly changed. Her posture, her expression, her body language. She couldn’t hide how the commission had conditioned her here. How they did everything they could to make a kid into an adult too soon. It made the three of her escorts sick.

Even during the elevator ride they took up to the top floor, Sasha’s expression remained unchanging. Blank, as if she were never nervous, to begin with. They knew it was just a mask though. Especially Eijirou took her hand in his and she gave a small squeeze. Sasha was still in there. He realized she wasn’t acting on what they wanted her to be, she was acting against it, refusing to give them the energy frowning required. He smiled to himself. She really was so manly.

Finally, they reached the top floor. As they walked out, they entered a large room that almost looked like a waiting area. It was the only area that wasn’t bustling with life. The only person there was the man behind the desk, her boss’s receptionist, Hachi. She always hated this man, ever since she was younger, as he was always bitter and unkind towards her. And he hated her just as much for whatever reason.

She approached the desk, her loved ones right behind her. The receptionist looked up at them and gave an obviously ingenuine smile. “Good morning to you, Sasha, and company. Big boss herself is a bit preoccupied right now, so you’ll have to come back later.” He stated, leaning back in her chair. “Though you may want to come alone, Sasha. She isn’t very happy after that stunt you pulled.”

Sasha narrowed her eyes, placing her hands on the desk. “We rescued Bakugou and helped All Might defeat AFO. If it wasn’t for all of us, who knows how many more people could have died. It was your boss that told me to go on a break.”

“My boss? Might I remind you, she is just as much your boss?” Hachi leaned forward again, obviously agitated by her back talk and the insinuation that he was the only one working under the woman. “Everyone’s boss, actually.”

“Not anymore,” Naomasa spoke up, crossing his arms. “Sasha’s here to resign, so tell Madam President to finish up as quickly as possible.” He said bitterly, not liking how this man talked to Sasha. She didn’t talk about her coworkers often at home, he had no idea it was because she didn’t like them, which was now obvious from her ignoring them and this current interaction they were having.

“Resign? You can’t just resign, that’s not how things work.” He rose an eyebrow, smiling as if he wanted to laugh in their face. “Your contract should–”

“My contract doesn’t legally bind me to work for any period. Naomasa made sure of that. After all, if a parent is present in a child’s life, they have to legally be there when the child is signing any legal document.” She gave a small grin, feeling proud as the smile fell from the man’s face.

Naomasa nodded, giving a similar smile. “Mm. I didn’t like the thought of Sasha being bound to the commission. And Madam President wanted Sasha so badly, she agreed after a couple of days.”

Sasha remembered being upset with Naomasa for those few days when she was younger, thinking she’d lost any chance of seeing her mother again. Now she was grateful to him. She couldn’t thank him enough for being such a good parent to her through everything. Always giving her what she felt like she needed, but finding ways to keep her safe too. She was going to give him the best Father’s Day of his life this year.

The receptionist glared at the group, making the four of them feel like they’d won something for a moment. Then he gave them a smirk, laughing under his breath. “Fine. I’ll let her know. What got you to do our dirty work for nothing, and for years too. I guess it wasn’t a total loss keeping you around.”

Sasha rolled her eyes at his statement. “Oh please. It wasn’t for nothing. Now I’m one step closer to figuring out what happened to my mom now.” She said, only getting confused when he gave another, more hearty laugh.

“Oh, right. You had no idea.” He said between his laughter, his eyes sparkling with amusement. His reaction put each of them on edge, so much so that Eijirou and Denki felt the need to speak up.

“What’s so funny?” Denki asked, looking him up and down nervously, not trusting this situation one bit. He was almost expecting someone to jump out and grab him with how the man before him started sounding like a true villain.

Eijirou on the other hand stepped closer to Sasha, not liking how this man laughed in her face when her mother was brought up. “Yeah, what are you laughing about? She’s serious.” He glanced at Sasha, trying to gauge what she was thinking. Her emotion was obvious now, she was annoyed. But the man behind the desk seemed more amused than anything.

He watched them for a moment as if trying to build up tension. He almost looked like he was holding back more laughter than he had already let loose. As the seconds went by, he watched the group get more and more antsy. Before they could voice their frustrations, he finally spoke up, though what he said stunned them into silence for another minute.

“Your mother is dead, Sasha. She has been for a long time, though the only one who didn’t know was you. So, I hate to break it to you, but you gained nothing.” Hachi stated with a. Exaggerated pout, faking empathy.

None of them could truly process what they had heard. No one knew what to say. Naomasa was the first to start shouting. Then Eijirou, followed by Denki. But as they threw criticisms and raised their voices, Sasha remained stagnant. She could barely hear what was being said, despite her amazing hearing. She recognized what was happening, she was about to snap. Usually, this was the part where she’d try to keep her cool, but she began to ask herself if she really wanted to.

“My mother… The boss… Even you. You all knew my mother…” She couldn’t even finish. Her words came out in a whisper that silenced the room. She took a step closer to the desk, baring her fangs. “And you have the nerve to laugh in my face. We’ll see how much you laugh when I rip out your vocal cords.”

Hachi’s smile fell quickly after that. He didn’t think her reaction would be so violent. After all, he’d never actually seen Sasha in action before, he’d only seen her around headquarters. But as she stepped closer to the desk, he couldn’t help but push his chair farther away. Looking into her eyes, he understood why she was really called Agent Wild Cat. It wasn’t just because of her quirk. It was the way she stalked up on her prey with eyes that made her enemy feel like a mere deer.

Anger coursed through her veins like a relentless storm, creating an aura of tension around her. Her usually bright eyes were now narrowed, flashing with an indignant fire that seemed ready to consume anyone who dared cross her path. Every step she took was accompanied by an air of defiance, her shoulders squared and her jaw clenched. The world around her seemed to tremble in the wake of her wrath as if the very universe recognized her anger and paid its respects. Her voice, normally sweet and exciteable, had transformed into a sharp blade of frustration, each word dripping with the venom of her pent-up feelings. Eijirou recognized this voice from the one he had heard that night in the woods.

While Naomasa tried his best to reason with her, Eijirou began getting nervous. If Sasha ended up seriously hurting Hachi, she’d be in big trouble. Especially considering the building they were currently standing inside of, and whose office they were standing outside of. He could tell Sasha couldn’t hear a thing Naomasa was saying, but it was too risky to grab her. If she truly snapped, she’d cut through Naomasa in a second, even if she didn’t really want to hurt him. And Eijirou knew that if that happened, she’d never forgive herself. So, he did the only thing he could think to do for him.

Sasha suddenly pounced at Hachi, attempting to get over the desk and take him down in one go. She would have succeeded if not for Eijirou jumping in front of her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She growled and struggled, grabbing onto Eijirou in an attempt to break free, unknowingly scratching him with her claws. Naomasa called her name but cut himself off when Eijirou immediately hardened where he was being grabbed. He had heard about how Eijirou stopped her in the woods, but watching it was different. As if he was watching two pieces of a puzzle come together.

“Let me go, Eijirou!” She shouted at the top of her lungs, looking at him, but something different happened. Usually, when she looked at others like this, they showed fear or at least caution. But Eijirou wasn’t afraid of her. He was determined, and he was worried for her. Then she looked down at his arms where she grabbed him. Though he wasn’t bleeding, it was sure to hurt when he unhardened. She quickly realized what that meant, that she was hurting him, and her grip loosened in an instant. “I… Eijirou…” She murmured quietly.

Denki and Naomasa were shocked by what they were seeing. Eijirou had neutralized Sasha without even trying. Just the thought of hurting him had snapped her out of it, and she had barely hurt him. They’d hate to see what would happen to anyone who truly hurt Eijirou, and what she would do to them.

Eijirou moved his hands up to cup her face. “There you go. Don’t risk breaking any laws for this guy. He isn’t worth that, Sash.” He said softly, and she nodded numbly, letting her arms fall to her side.

When he let her go, she looked at Hachi in disgust. Then she began to yell again, but this time, she didn’t look as threatening as before, and she wasn’t yelling in Japanese. Instead, she was yelling in a language only Naomasa recognized as her mother’s native language. He could only recognize a few words here and there, but he recognized some of them as cuss words and unsavory insults. He didn’t dare to stop her though. This was the safest way to have her vent her frustrations.

With every gesture and movement, Sasha's anger was on full display. Her fingers, once delicate and graceful, were now curled into fists, claws digging into her palms. Her anger was a stormy sea, its waves crashing against the walls of her mind. But beneath the surface, there was a vulnerability, a hurt that had ignited the blaze within her. It was a sense of injustice, a feeling of being misunderstood, or a wound that had yet to heal. Whatever the cause, her anger was a manifestation of her refusal to be silenced or overlooked anymore. Someone would hear her.

Suddenly, security entered the room. Sasha realized there must have been a button under his desk and she glared at him. “Fine! I’m leaving, coward! But trust my words, you will pay for this! You and the president!” She swore before spitting one more cuss word at him in her mother’s language. Though she had agreed to leave, she had to be pulled out, her eyes not leaving his until he was out of sight. They were silent as they left the building and when they made kit out, Naomasa led to students to a quiet place, an old park around the corner.

Sitting at a wooden picnic table that had seen better days, the four of them sat in silence. Naomasa sat by Sasha, and Eijirou sat across from her with Denki at his side. Gently, Naomasa pulled Sasha into his side, She looked down at her lap, letting out a shaky breath, as if she was trying to hold herself together.

But even as her anger blazed, there was a glimmer of something else beneath the surface. A hint of sadness, a touch of longing for things to be different. It was as if her anger was a shield, protecting her from the deeper pain she was trying to keep at bay. And perhaps, underneath it all, there was a girl who simply wanted to be understood, to have her feelings validated, and to find a way to navigate the complexities of her emotions. A girl who missed her mother. The same girl that cried on the plane ride to Japan when her mother had her board that plane for her safety.

“Hey,” Denki said to her. She didn’t look at him, but her ears perked up, letting him know she was listening. “We’re not your coworkers, Sasha. I’m your friend, Eijirou’s your boyfriend, and you’re sitting next to your dad. You can cry, and it would be okay.” He said quietly, smiling when she finally looked up to meet her eyes.

Eijirou decided not to comment on the boyfriend line, instead focusing on Sasha. He nodded, repeating Denki’s words to her. “It would be okay.”

She looked at him, then finally at Naomasa. He could see her eyes getting glossy. It nearly brought tears to his own eyes watching his daughter look at him, silently asking him if it was okay to cry over her mother’s death. She had cried in the forest when they took Bakugou and when All Might fought AFO. It was as if she felt as though she’d cried enough, too much.

He nodded, pulling her into a full hug. Finally, the tears spilled and she began to sob quietly, then loudly as she realized that she would never see her mother again. As she understood the weight of her actions. The commission had made her do a lot of bad things, and she listened without questioning much, all for the sake of her mother. Her mother had saved her life, only for Sasha to end up like this. She risked her life to push Sasha away from AFO and herself, but Sasha ran back the first chance she got. Guilt began to eat at her, feeling as though she had wasted the life her mother gave her, even at the cost of her own.

Before the guilt could swallow her whole, Naomasa squeezed her closer, as if pulling her from it. She clung to him, afraid that if she let go, she would be alone. And he kissed the top of her head, murmuring into her hair, “You’ve still got your whole life ahead of you, Sasha. All she wanted was for you to live and be happy. You can still do that. Your mother did not die in vain.

At that moment, Naomasa's quiet strength and genuine compassion provided the solace that Sasha had been seeking. Through his words and actions, he reminded her that she was never alone, that she had a father who would always be there to listen, to understand, and to offer the comfort that only a parent's love could bring.

Looking at Denki and Eijirou, she saw how their eyes were shown with affection and concern. How Denki smiled in an attempt to make her feel better, in how Eijirou sat his hand in the middle of the table, a silent invitation to hold it if she wanted. She took him up on the offer, reaching over and taking his hand in hers. It was warm, comforting, and secure. Then she tried her best to return Denki’s smile, watching as he looked at her proudly.

She was still hurt, but she wasn’t angry anymore, not at that moment at least. Once again, she found hope. She simply hoped that her mom could see her now with her loved ones. She wished she could thank her for the beautiful gift she’d given her; Happiness.

As the day began to become the evening, the park seemed to transform. The golden hour had arrived, casting a warm, gentle glow over everything it touched. The trees, once vivid green, now took on hues of amber and gold like her eyes, their leaves shimmering like jewels in the soft light. Still, the four of them didn’t leave the bench. They rarely spoke, but it was better that way. They all needed silence after the heavy meeting they had just endured.

The air held a gentle stillness as if the world was pausing to savor the beauty of the fading day. The park's energy shifted from the vibrant liveliness of the afternoon to a more contemplative serenity. As the last rays of light melted into the horizon, the world was wrapped in a calm embrace, a reminder that endings could be just as beautiful as beginnings. Her mother’s death didn’t have to be for nothing. It could mean something more than what the commission thought.

As she looked up at the twinkling stars, she racked her brain for her mother’s voice. She could barely recall it, but just the memory had her holding back tears, Then she looked at Naomasa and he smiled. She looked to the sky again, letting her tears slip down her cheeks. Naomasa spoke again, but this time, she could have sworn she’d heard her mother’s voice too, as clear as day, whispering. They both said the same thing as well, as if to reassure her. It was then that Sasha was sure her mother was watching, and finally, Sasha could truly smile.

“It would be okay, Sasha.”

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #x oc #eijirou kirishima x oc #Sasha Quinn #Sasha x Eijirou #Undercover Wild Cat 💕

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sapphic-savior · 8 months

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I turn 18 soon, and I feel...

honestly, I'm not really sure. am I supposed to feel happy or excited? I'm not exactly sure it is my first time turning 18, and there's not exactly a wiki-how on it.

eighteen. Eight, teen. I'll be an adult. I'll have responsibilities. big ones too. and I just can't help but feel like I'm not ready for it all but I guess that's just how it goes. one day your a kid and the next your not. funny, because I still feel like a kid.

I mean I don't really know what it's like to be a kid. I never had a childhood. I grew up moving my whole life because of my dads job. never staying anywhere for more then 3 years. it really stunted my growth but I wouldn't notice that until years later. I never had freinds for long always moving and losing contact. it really takes its toll on a kid yknow?

and around 9 years old it really started hitting me I had to completely restart my life so many times. having freinds that I remember only by the traits I picked up from them not the names or faces. I fell into a depression. and to make matters worse I had started to realize I wasn't like the other kids

covid hit and things only got worse I didn't see anyone of my freinds and realized that I was transgender and had to figure out all the problems that arise with such a revaluation and a family who weren't helping me

then I went into highschool and when it got out that I was trans I received death threats. that with my teachers were denying my very obvious and prevalent learning disabilities I was taken out of school with no freinds and no one to talk to i was alone

by 15 I had realized I couldn't remember anything but a select few memories of my my closest freind, I'd suffered from untreated depression for so long my memories were lost. and everything is a blur still to this day.

now I'm turning 18 and I feel like only now I'm getting the childhood I was deprived of, I actually have freinds who I can talk to granted they're all online. but I habe a group of people for the first time in years but I still feel like I shouldn't be an adult yet I've grown up too fast.

I'll never get my own prom. or late nights out with freinds making highschool memories. I feel cheated out of growing up. I know that I was a kid once but I don't remember it and all of the memories in highschool I hear people talk about I will never experience. i don't think I'm ready to grow up but just like before I have to grow up to keep surviving.

so Eighteen

I turn 18 soon. and I feel; as much as I want to say lied to or cheated I just feel sad. but not int the way your sad when you lose someone close to you. I'm sad like when you first learn that dogs can see all the colours you can. when you feel sorry they cant see the world as beautifully as you can. i feel sorry for a happy kid that never got the chance to experience being a kid

I turn 18 soon, and I feel like so much is expected of me now. I turn 18 soon, and I feel that I'm not ready. I turn 18 soon, and I feel scared of what's to come. I turn 18 soon, and I feel sad. I turn 18 soon, and I feel that nothings really changed

I turn 18 soon, and I feel.

#I turn 18 soon and i feel #theres so much change and yet theres nothing truely changing is there?

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consult-sherlockholmes · 2 years

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If we are ‘clogging up the tags’ I do advise to use drain declogger, as it is very effective at corpse disposal, dissolving any tissue except bones with it’s alkaline solution. However, you will have to kill us first and chop us into little bits to fully submerge into the declogger to speed up the decomposition process. But you still have to get rid of the bones then, just crush them with a hammer, or keep them as a souvenir. Good luck, you will need it.

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diaryujin · 5 months

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𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑 - 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍

summary: Sunghoon has never felt any spark in his heart, none of that silly love he’s read about in novels in his free time. No one interested him, and it wasn’t like his father, the king, would let him have friends, male or female, for fear of being betrayed or developing feelings for them. He lived a life of isolation, excited for nothing – neither the idea of being married to a pretty princess or becoming the next ruler of the Park kingdom. He most certainly did not expect you, his new guard, to change all that. He did not expect you to brighten his days and light up his heart.

includes: no warnings in the teaser!!

death, murder, war/battle, attempted murder (kinda), royal au, romanticized medieval setting of sorts, forced marriage/proposal, a lot of time skips so it moves somewhat quickly, more warnings will be added in the final oneshot

pairing: prince! sunghoon x guard! fem! reader

word count: 904

genre: angst

READ THE FULL FIC HERE !

Sunghoon was reading over some papers pertaining to the kingdom’s matters when he heard a knock on the door.

“Enter.”

One of the guards came in, before bowing upon seeing him.

“Sire, his Majesty wishes to see you.”

He nodded and set the papers in a neat stack. He then put them in a drawer and locked it for security. He then stood up and followed the guard, maintaining a neutral expression.

His mind was working much faster than normal though.

“Why have you called me here, father?”

“I’ve received some proposals from other kings. They’ve sent me paintings of their daughters. A lovely selection of princesses, I must say.”

Sunghoon had to physically hold himself back from rolling his eyes.

“Father, I’ve already told you this. I am not ready for marriage and I am not interested in this topic.”

“Yes, but it’s good to start early. Maybe you’ll change your mind after-”

“I’m sorry to interrupt you Father, but why have you actually summoned me?”

The king narrowed his eyes at his son but didn’t say anything more about the topic.

“Well, I’ve decided to get you a personal guard. There have been many threats of attacks on the palace, so it’s better to take this precaution.”

“Interesting. Will he be with me all the time or-”

“She.”

“What?”

“Your guard is a female.”

To say he was shocked was the understatement of the century. His father? Hiring a woman? As his bodyguard? What if he-

“Are you serious?” “Yes. She is very capable and I’m sure she will protect and serve you well. I trust you to keep your relationship with her strictly professional.”

It wasn’t like he knew how to have a non-professional relationship with anyone outside of his family anyway.

“Yes, Father. Will she be with me at all times?”

“Indeed she will, except for when you are sleeping. At that time, she will stand outside your door and guard you.” “What about her food and sleep?”

“That is not your concern.”

“But-”

“Silence!”

He slowed down his train of thought. Why was he thinking like a teenage boy ogling over a girl? He was the crown prince, he was better than that. It was going to be a new experience, that was all.

“May I meet her now?”

“Of course. She’s arriving as we speak.”

Just then, the door opened, and you entered, a male soldier on either side. Sunghoon’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, but nothing came out of it.

Oh fuck, you were gorgeous.

And he used foul language again. Stupid Sunghoon, he reprimanded himself.

“This is your new personal guard, Y/N.”

a/n: it kinda reads like ‘y/N iS nOt LiKe oThEr gIrLs’ in this bit but i swear that was not the intent! hoon (is a loser) has simply never had real interaction with women who aren’t royals, so pls don’t take it in that manner <3 this is probably going to be my longest oneshot yet, my motivation to write is not completely dead we cheered!!

there is a taglist for this oneshot, lmk if you want to be added on it in my asks!

#mallow’s works #divider by fairytopea #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen au #enhypen royal au #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon angst #sunghoon oneshot #enhypen angst #sunghoon enhypen #prince au #sunghoon fic #enhypen fic teaser

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letters-to-lgbt-kids · 3 years

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(TW: mentions of death threats, suicide mention)

Here is a short version of this post for people who struggle with long text posts.

My dear lgbt+ kids,

Here's a hug for everyone who receives death threats (or messages urging you to kill yourself) by online trolls.

When we think about death threats, we often picture the letter made of newspaper clippings and a picture of you with the face cut off. We can easily imagine what receiving one of those does to a person: You wouldn't feel safe anymore.

You'd likely feel terrified every time a new letter arrives. What if it's another threat? You might jump every time the phone rings because it might a voice saying "I am outside your door". You would suddenly not trust anyone anymore, constantly look around if there is anyone in a dark corner waiting for you or wonder if someone you trust and love is behind it. Even your best friend inviting you over suddenly sounds potentially deadly. You might have nightmares, feel helpless and alone, wonder what you've done to deserve this...

Compared to that, death threats by random online trolls may seem harmless and like something we should be able to laugh off. It may be some random 14-year-old in another country who doesn't even know your name and has no intent of ever actually doing anything - but even when the threat is fake, the emotional consequences are real and we need to talk about them.

The threat is less "tangible" than in the letter scenario and your reaction to it may be as well. You may not actively think about danger or even give much thought to that message at all. You may just roll your eyes and think "Ugh, what an A-hole!"... but your brain and your body literally have no other job than keeping you alive and safe. They will react to any threat. So, you may just let out a frustrated sigh and delete yet another "Go kill yourself" in your inbox - and hours later you lay wide awake at night, wondering why your heart is pounding. You may feel like being on social media causes "random" waves of sadness and anxiety or like you used to be excited when you got a new message but now you dread that little notification.

Death threats take a toll on your mental health (and it can be especially hard on people who already struggle with depression, anxiety or trauma). It's not you being overdramatic! Those emotional consequences are real, even when the threat is fake. Online trolls may be so common that online death threats are almost normalized - but it doesn't mean that facing a potential threat to your life is a normal situation for your body to be in.

Many of the usual self-care tips for dealing with anxiety or healing from traumatic situations also apply to this situation (i.e not only the "treating yourself to little luxeries" but also the "building your own mental `toolbox` of coping skills and resilence tools" kind of self-care). It's not silly or over-the-top to purposefully set aside time and energy to protect your mental health.

It's also okay if you feel like you can't deal with it by yourself and need help to cope with it.

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

#lgbt #lgbt+

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persephoneyss · 3 years

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So Far.

Pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader.

Genre: Yandere, dark themes, Angst, hybrid au!.

Summary: ❝He should make sure you never had the sole thought of having a chance to escape him. Obviously you couldn't do it with your swollen belly with his son, right? ❞

Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, harassment/mild stalking, humiliation, implicit murder, mention of suicide, shark hybrid!Jungkook, death threats, mating/breeding season, fear, is it cannibalism if it is a human eating hybrid?, Sexual relations dubc*n/nonc*n near the end very slightly created let me go:(, explicit creampie, oral sex (male and female receiving), forced pregnancy, rough sex uhg!, regular dirty talk, reader feels very embarrassed by everything, light voyeurism (Jungkook spies on reader while changing), nonc*n touching, past story in Jungkook's life that I hope you understand, slapping, hitting, slightly broken reader, unprotected sex (don't do this), cruel and scary Jungkook.

Number of words: 6k+

Order made by: jeonsookyun♥ (on wattpad)

︙Author's note: This fic was a request that I received on wattpad, I really liked doing it. It's pretty dirty so... well I hope you enjoy it.

Read the warnings well, this fic is a bit dark due to the contrasts in the scenes and also Jungkook is crazy and I hate him, but I love him:)... By this I mean that maybe I lost a lot of things that are very important and that I did not put in the warnings.

(Sorry for any mistakes, my first language is not English and I am not fluent either.)

Puedes leer este fic y más aquí en español.

So far.

You could never explain what the sea made you feel, something so big and mysterious, carrying waves that crashed against your feet on the shore.

You used to sit in that same place for as long as you could remember, your parents liked to walk on the sand together and holding hands. Faithful admirers of the beautiful landscape of the sun hiding on the horizon with its last rays, giving a meaningful last goodbye until the next day. The black cloak of the night covered the entire sky, along with a call from your mother advising that it was time to go home, your body perked up when you woke up excited to run into her arms and tell her about what you saw in the crystal clear waters, hidden in its depths.

Now, with her sudden absence, you could only tell your thoughts to the sea that loomed proudly before you. Its devastatingly strong waves, that for a few seconds you thought about obeying your partner who warned you about the danger of angry water, in days like this it was better to just avoid it.

However, even after all that you couldn't help but be curious to explore his darker side. The rocks collided with the water with ferocious roars, fear did not invade you at any time while you took your most reliable board, raising your body on it with the certainty that you would return to shore soon and could go home, you swam to the perfect place with a smile. Your body swayed slightly, you were standing riding the wave chosen for you by the sea, the air of a sunny day on your face, your eyes fixed on the golden sand waiting for you.

Perhaps you did not remember the fear that suddenly came to you after falling into the water that at that moment seemed deadly cold, a storm approaching from the horizon where the sun could no longer be seen completely, its light just a flash of a memory. You were trying to survive, swimming between the storm and the unthinkable, you would probably die drowned in the immense waves that you used to like to challenge with your board in hand, you would smile along with your fellow surfers who encouraged you to join them. All that seemed to be left behind, being washed away like sand. Your lungs did not give more and your energy to fight was low, your arms began to tire in a few seconds until you fell unconscious by a new wave dragging your body hard against a reef, hitting your head and back repeatedly.

The pain of that moment was your most recent memory, your vision clouded by the light of the new day. It was in that place where you found yourself in confusion and fear, your arms covering your chest and stomach asking for food. You wondered how long you were unconscious, and how the same sea that condemned you to such an experience was capable of taking you safely to that island paradise. It was quite small compared to others that you had managed to visit with your friends, it seemed to be hidden and not far from your home, you would never be able to explain how you never saw it before, or because nobody spoke about it. Visually was very beautiful, her sand almost white and without signs of having been disturbed.

A distinctive noise in the waters near the shore caught your attention, a sudden fright made you stand up ready to scream. Naively thinking that a diver had managed to find you and would call for help. However, your face changed to an expression of total terror when you managed to see the unique fin of a shark rising between the water and the sand that it seemed to be removed by the animal, causing you to not be able to see it correctly. You go back, leaving him alone and looking for wood or something similar to be able to make a fire for the night, you hoped you would not be long in that heavenly place. Your feet left mark on your silent paths, sometimes stopping to take some fruits from the trees, they seemed too well cared for as to be so hidden, the doubt growing in your head if it was someone's private island. The answers to your questions were given by your own eyes, a small solitary cabin located possibly in the middle of the island, it seemed a little decayed and its wood began to deteriorate with time.

It must have been abandoned for years, you thought for a few seconds before choosing to bravely knock on the door.

The only song of the birds fluttering the vegetation confirmed that there was no one inside and that if you were completely alone in the gigantic surroundings, you touch again as a precaution. Your hand trembled when the rusty knob moved, with the noise of the door opening, screeching of wood and worn metal invaded you, the smell of damp and earth made you recoil in disgust. Inside it didn't seem to be any better, there was some small furniture in various places, a bed and curiously ... a baby crib. You internally thank the owners of that mysterious cabin for leaving blankets and canned food, as well as firewood and a light bulb, you tried the light that to your relief turned on, a solar panel outside caught your attention. Maybe it wasn't a house, just a resting place.

You would never believe that someone wanted to live so lonely. You joke in your thoughts that maybe a hermit or monster lived there, you try busy putting some order to the place. You sweep the floor as your last task, your head poked out of the door when you heard a noise and you quickly grabbed a knife hidden in one of the drawers under the bed.

It was just rain.

Your body relaxed, closing the door behind you. You set a fire in the small fireplace, beginning to warm up and fleeing the darkness of the night with the light from the spotlight, your arms covered your body with melancholy. Everyone would surely be looking for you on that cold night, or possibly they already left you for dead. You sob almost unexpectedly, with fury against yourself, you should never have tried to tame the untamed, the sea dragged you against loneliness and I punish you for your pride by challenging it.

Your body fell against the soft sheets, covering you with them from the freezing weather. Your warmth could make you fall asleep, your eyes closed wearily, without remembering to close the door as a precaution.

Unaware of the dangers of the mysterious and unknown place, you slept in peace.

Jungkook watched you for a few seconds, he had never seen a human so closely, your relaxed and beautiful face managed to attract his attention immediately. Maybe he should be angry, he thought, you were a stranger invading his territory and even more precious than that, his home. Your body moved unexpectedly, causing him to panic and recoil. Your hands came out from under the sheet to hug yourself and shiver, you were shivering with cold.

In a desperate act, I pulled out two blankets from his favorite drawer, hidden under his crib mattress, covered you until you stopped shaking. The heat seemed to comfort you, a slight smile touched your lips briefly, I wish I could see more of your beautiful expressions, his hands itched to touch you and feel the softness of your skin, the lightness of your hair, and how full it would feel if Someday you would hold him tight She imagined presenting herself to you, offering to stay with him and be his friend, forever.

You seemed very comfortable there, you even ordered her home that could now also be yours.

He sat down next to you with a sigh, his face dangerously and tantalizingly close to you, his lips an inch from touching. You opened your eyes, the light of the new day in your sight. You smile, but your happiness doesn't last long, the door was open.

Fearful you take the knife, ready to attack anyone who is a danger, you walk around without noticing anything strange. You wince, entering the safety of the cabin again, and this time you shut the door as tightly as you can. You open a can of beans, and surprisingly manage to find several bottles of water. The person or family that lived there had to come often, even so you try to take Io as little as possible, rationing everything for days, you only had food and water for three weeks. Later, you would die of hunger or thirst, or perhaps from some infection or bite of some deadly insect.

Your clothes began to be uncomfortable, you look around the corners until you find a fairly well-cared dress, and some shoes that accompanied it. You change in silence, putting your clothes aside and then looking for a place to wash them.

You walk out the door, still unsure of being able to be calm in that place alone and with many dangers.

Your feet always leaving footprints behind you, your eyes follow the emptiness of the crystal clear water, you expected to see a boat or sign of life but there is only water, water and much more water around you. A trembling sigh escapes your lips, you look down for a few seconds before seeing a small and curious necklace buried shallow in the sand, your hands took it trying to find the owner, the photo inside was that of a woman, the black and white colors highlighting her beautiful and delicate face. She was very beautiful, your fingers touched the gold of that mysterious necklace, you thought that the sea had brought it in its calm waves that morning. You keep it in a small pocket that the dress carried, continuing on your way and looking for more signs of life, you want to be able to see a boat or fishermen doing their usual day. But no, only the song of the birds accompanied you eternally, until the rain fell again from the now gray sky, a storm as deadly as the one that took you to that island was present.

You ran through the trees, scared that you could not find the cabin that was your temporary refuge, the waves of the sea rising without compassion for anyone. The dress that you found in perfect condition now stained with dirt and wet from the drops that fell like tears, your feet almost slipped in the infernal mud. You closed the door as soon as you managed to enter, your trembling lips and cold skin forced you to search among all the dusty things in the place. Your steps froze like your heart, which stopped beating for a few seconds, a knock on the door scared you notably while your breathing failed in advance to know who would be behind the door and those knocks. Your hand with the knife in it approached, you exhale before asking indecisively.

"Who is?!" You scream, waving the knife in warning. Although the person could not see it.

The person seemed to hesitate just like you, shyly returned the question "Hello?" His trembling voice approached the door, knocking again but more softly, "Does anyone live here? The storm made me fall off my ... Boat, I got lost and I swam to this island. Can you help me?" He was silent, until her now weaker voice whispered a little "please."

You shook your head, you couldn't help him because you were also looking for someone to help you. Tears accumulating in your eyes from the frustration of not being able to say "No" to him at once, you put yourself in his shoes thinking about how cold he must feel outside, he sure was hungry and scared like you. In a moment of pity, you removed the first safety, not without first warning him that you had a weapon and not to try anything. You opened the door slightly to see him, he was young just like you, he was shivering with cold just like you, he was scared just like you.

"Enters." You say harshly, letting me pass you by to close the door this time with all decision not to open it again for strangers. "Sorry, I didn't expect to have visitors so soon."

He face showed how nervous he was, instinctively you took a sheet from the bed to give it to her with a small smile, he quickly accepted it by wrapping herself in it. Both remain silent, sometimes crossing glances and communicating without words, you were curious to know where he came from or why he seemed calmer now, perhaps like you he missed his home but preferred to keep it internally and for himself.

They had spent several days together, sometimes separated or too close together, his name properly told you on a dark night, when both were lying in the bed they shared when there was no other, Jungkook was his almost silent whisper, I look at you for what It seemed like an eternity until you fell asleep. It felt strange to be so far away in that narrow place, his body approached yours looking to feel you for a few seconds, his arms surrounded you knowing that you could wake up at any moment and probably see the pleasure he felt from being able to touch you. The lovely smell of your hair invading his mind, his erection jerking in his pants as his hands ambitiously reached down so he could grab your ass to smash his cock against you, his rapid breathing and moans being silenced by the pillow beneath him. He could still remember the first night, the one where you had no choice but to change in front of him, your flushed face gently asking him to turn around in a vague attempt to preserve your modesty. I accept, giving you a simple nod, you would never know that his eyes were constantly glued to your back as you changed as fast as you could.

Maybe he felt bad for abusing your trust, at no point did you turn your head to confirm that he wasn't looking at you, you just continued until you could give a short confirmation that you were ready.

He remembered every detail of you.

Your eyes widen, the sunlight coming through the open door with suspicion, you wake up so hurried and worried to look for Jungkook who was not by your side. He would never leave without warning you, you knew him perfectly, your legs seemed weaker with each day you spent on that island, you had also begun to wake up with your wet crotch, your excitement sliding between your thighs while you tried every morning to clean it before it Jungkook managed to notice. You thought you might have had some suggestive or pleasant dream, but that possibility seemed less and less possible as the days passed.

You walked out of the cabin, calling his name in fear that something bad had happened. His face appeared before you unexpectedly from among the abundant trees, he seemed much more serious than normal. And it was terrifying.

"Hey, where did you go?" You ask with a small grimace, your heart still pounding in your chest. Jungkook seemed to be quieter than a predator hunting defenseless prey.

His dark eyes surrounded you until you felt intimidated, you walk away noticing how close they seemed to be to each other. However, he approached again, taking steps towards you with the same hard gaze.

"Kook?" You whispered, your lips now the tempting fruit of sin. I sickly wished I could kiss you so hard and take your breath away with the brush of his lips.

"I-I'm sorry, I went looking for fruits..." he replied, with a sigh.

You nod, expecting to see the fruit he was supposed to bring, but instead in his hand were two fish hanging on a fishing line. Before you could ask, he was already telling you about his little adventure.

"I found a boat on the shore ... I suppose its owner lost it." He shrugged, starting to light the firewood outside the cabin to cook the fish. "No matter-..."

"What? Of course... II..." Tears began to fall from your eyes unexpectedly, thinking of finally leaving that infernal island. You sobbed, wiping your face and letting Jungkook hug you, his face showing his concern. "Kook... we'll go home!"

"To home?" I mutter puzzled.

"Yes! Where is the ship? We can use it to-..."

"Not."

Your face froze, "What do you mean?"

"T-the ship is ... destroyed" he smiled, almost mockingly seeing your disappointed face. "I could only find these fish there."

"I-okay ..." You whisper, your voice weak and a stifled sob. Your hands cover you, a chill suddenly reaching your body.

Although your face managed to show a small fake smile, that same night you spent hours crying under the sheets next to him. I try to get closer to you to comfort you in his arms, but you always pushed away insisting that you were okay. That everything was damn fine. Despite being physically and mentally tired, hurt and lonely, she was fine.

His eyes were always fixed on your empty face when you seemed to have lost hope in getting out or running away from him. He simply couldn't help but feel happy about your state... Broken. You seemed to be surrendered and it was so exquisite to the sickness of him, perhaps it was selfish or disgusting how he enjoyed using your mind blinded by sadness to approach you with cunning, seeking affection in your vulnerable state. He sweet words confused you.

Seeing you every morning dressed in the old clothes of her mother was beautiful in endearing aspects, your angelic and confused face reminded her so much of her. He could never know for sure why she decided one day to sink into the depths of the sea and abandon it to her fate at thirteen years old. Perhaps it was because of her deteriorated mental state, which made her fear everything, even her own son. Years later, she was able to find her thoughts written on yellowed paper over the years, the ink almost invisible but still readable and paranoid in her texts.

"Today on a day like the previous one I am still scared ... Oh! God forbid I live eternally grateful for not dying at the hands of my beloved son. Jungkook, my little one, for whom I left everything behind so as not to see him suffer in cruelty of society that condemns the different and new. Now I am afraid to sleep next to him, I heard some stories and studied enough to know marine animals, I am terrified to think of my child going through the times of reproduction of his animal part . Will he be able to control that abomination? I am afraid. Taking care of him was my greatest achievement but now fleeing from him will be my salvation.

I will not fall into the condemnation of the flames of hell burning my soul forever when he is able to try to take me with force and contempt for me."

He burned every page and sheet he could find, angry and humiliated. He never thought of being so repulsed by her, her progenitor and beloved first friend, she was with him for years. Until in a cowardly act, he fled at the hands of death. He thought frankly that if she hadn't killed herself so unexpectedly, he would have gladly put her hands on her neck and choked her if he ever didn't allow her to be by your side. Nor would he feel remorse for that.

Now, in his present he could only wait for you to fall further into your inert state. Every night, he hoped to see you sleep as peacefully as the first time, he could stare at you for hours and he wouldn't tire of your beautiful, perfect unconscious face lying in his bed.

If you had been smarter and less trusting, you could have followed him to her hiding place on the shore. The blood of his last victim stained on the sand that would soon be carried by the sea as a mere memory, it was a poor fisherman who had the tragic idea of invading his territory and his safe home with you. He couldn't help but feel furious at the thought of that man helping you to escape from him and his eternal love for you, it was that same anger that perhaps forced him to slaughter the poor idiot and have a delicious feast with his corpse.

Years had passed since he returned to eating human flesh.

His mother let him go to the waters of the sea to ward off fishermen and boats, in an unforeseen act he attacked a pair of divers who tried to escape. He couldn't let them go. He just thought of all those stories his mother used to tell him about humans, how they killed and burned people like him. The woman begged him for mercy when he led them to shore, ready to commit their next crime, she seemed so scared when she couldn't even sigh and her boyfriend was already bleeding to death, she begged him to spare his life and solemnly swears that he would not tell anyone that he had seen it.

Even after all those minutes of tears, he could only strangle his neck.

He remembers burying her in a remote area of the island so that his mother would not suspect, he slightly freed himself from a sentence in hell. Although he knew that anyway after death, he waited for an eternity next to his mother in incessant flames as she used to say that she touched the damned who went against the goodness of God.

Blasphemy.

"You ... do you miss someone right now?" Your voice came from the depths of you, with the same vulnerability and sadness as always.

He hum, without answering you or giving you an accurate confirmation. Your eyes lost looking at the flame of the campfire that they had improvised on another rainy day, a soft tear slipping down your cheek and falling directly into the fire that was not affected in the least, it vaguely reminded you of Jungkook, he did not seem to be affected for nothing, despite spending days with you on that invisible island, which was lost on the maps with magic.

"And you? Do you miss someone?"

You lowered your gaze for a few seconds, "Maybe ... but if I'm going to stay in this damn place forever, I'd better forget them." Your body crouched on the floor got up, ready to sleep and forget you asked in the first place. It would be better to forget. "Good night, kook."

Your body fell on the sheets, with a sigh and closing your eyes. You couldn't even remember your dreams or nightmares, not when you again witnessed the darkness of the night before you. A tickle distracted you, your gaze quickly lowered only to realize that you were naked, you tried to cover your exposed chest with the bed sheet but a growl stopped you, almost like a lethal warning of what you should never do.

Trying to cover yourself with him was a sin in his world.

Jungkook watched you for a few seconds, still leaving soft kisses on your exposed stomach as well as your entire body, his hands touching your soft hips and leaving finger marks. So familiar. He had gone years without a partner, his breeding seasons were torturous, even more so for a lonely male like him who could do nothing but masturbate day after day for the entire period, which seemed longer with each passing year, his part Human achieved almost powerless control of her attacks of go by not being able to free herself completely, she would never do it if she could not find a partner who was willing to her total domination.

But now, you were there. He stared at you, his hands never moved away from your hips to prevent you from letting go or escaping from him, your eyes were wide with fear and you were completely paralyzed, unable to do anything but take a deep breath.

The pain from his grip was unbearable, a groan of pain came from your lips so beautiful. Everything about you was as beautiful as spring, your eyes, your hair, your lips or even your expressions, in all your ways you were perfect for him.

It didn't matter if you knew it or not, he could take you and claim you as his because it was you who invaded his home in the first place.

"K-kook?" The courage you thought you had long ago vanished in those moments, your hands trying not to move to try to cover you. You knew it bothered him the first time you tried, so you could only pray that he was reasonable and he will let you go.

"Hm?" He concluded without paying attention to your calls, his fingers tracing small figures on your bare stomach. A smile played on his lips and for the first time in your life, you felt the horror of thinking that your eyesight failed you and that what you were seeing was an illusion.

His teeth... They looked like knives or knives, your head was totally blocked without being able to have the proper reaction. Maybe yelling would be appropriate, but that would only make things worse and you were in no position to risk dying at his hands.

You didn't want to do it either.

"Please ... don't do this," your pleas went on deaf ears. With that same sinister smile, his body rose above yours, which was quite a bit smaller in size.

He was still dressed, his ice cold hands touching your dry cheeks. You weren't crying and he could only feel a little disappointed, "I can ... And you know? I will," he scoffed leaving a short kiss on your trembling lips. "You better not try anything, darling. If you run away ... better find a good hiding place, although it will be useless because I know every part of this island and every fucking hole where you will try to hide," he gave a funny but graceless laugh. "In the end, I will find you and you will wish you drowned in the damn sea instead of falling here because I will hurt you so much that you will not believe that you are still alive."

His threats were so intimidating that they only made you wonder if you really wished you were alive now, escaping was not in your calculations right now. Your mind was in a trance for a few seconds, just staring at the ceiling hoping it was a bad dream, a nightmare or worse. However, you were pulled into reality with his lips leaving kisses down your neck.

"Your skin is so soft darling ... So light it wouldn't be difficult to rip it off you," her sinister flattery contrasted with her sadistic teasing and her equally terrifying laugh.

You could not believe that you were really living that, you imagined a thousand ways to die on this island but none involved being eaten by a psychopath who seemed to be unreal and monstrous. Your hands against your judgment, tried to push him away from you with force. His kisses soon became something more possessive on your fragile skin, leaving red marks that will soon bloom to purple, he was painting your conviction along with her name on you.

You were his, only his.

"Since I met you I wanted to do this to you ... I can't believe that now I will be able to fuck you with my semen until you are swollen with my son inside you" Another smile made its way onto he previously angelic face, now you could see it behind the mask he drew on himself to deceive you, it was not a white angel with golden wings, it was a black one who fell from heaven into sin and now, he was dragging you with him to the same abyss.

He was damned.

"Please ... I'll do whatever you want," you begged, covering your face in shame.

"You will do that, dear."

His hands held your hips, his head lowered even further, with his knees on the floor right in front of your spread legs and your pussy exposed. He reveled in your grief, you obviously struggled to block his way from his precious delicacy, but just as quickly as before he immobilized you with a threat that he clearly did not plan to carry out. He would never hurt you, after all for something he kept you alive day by day, you were his partner and soul mate.

Soon I would find a way that you would never leave.

"Your pussy must taste delicious honey ... I can't wait to cum inside of you and raise you to be the mother of my son", your face contorted at his dirty words.

Your gaze still on the ceiling, the moonlight now present, leaving evidence of your surrender. What was the use of waiting, you would never leave that place alive. Jungkook imprisoned you, leaving delicate kisses on the inside of your thigh causing you to stifle some involuntary gasps and moans, so sensitive, he smiled. He couldn't believe that he could finally taste you, his tongue quickly plunged into your pussy. A scream came out of your mouth, begging him to stop out of embarrassment.

You could feel it inside of you, your body reacting to the inevitable pleasure you felt.

You bite your tongue before moaning for him, you squirm in his arms that hold you tightly as he continues to savor all your arousal that soon begins to seep through the sheets beneath you. A particularly strong suction on your clitoris clouds your view, your hands hold his hair, you don't know what to do but unconsciously you bring him closer to you. Now begging him to make you have your much appreciated orgasm, his tongue moving deftly inside you.

But it always seems to stop just as you are about to touch your climax, you sob in frustration now begging that I stopped playing with you, pleasure blinding your reason.

"Please ... let me cum", you plead with all your remaining voice, closing your eyes so you don't see him directly.

"Aw honey, I can't ..."

"Why?!" You scream, releasing her hair from your grip. Your hand ready to finish the job by yourself.

"Because it is on my cock where your pretty pussy is going to squirt, I will leave you marked forever that you will not want anyone but me to fuck you" her words make you squeeze your pussy into nothing, with a needy moan . Her hand holds your arm, preventing you from touching without her permission. "Shh, honey, don't be a bad girl. Or I'll have to punish you."

You moan trying to free yourself, your pleas like before make it wet in her pants. It can see the stain on the front of these, the precum leaking from his cock desperate to fuck you so hard. In the bed they shared together, in the bed where they would always sleep together, in the bed where I touch you so many times without you noticing.

"Do you want me to fuck you love?" You desperately nod, your hips trying to find hers to brush your aching pussy against her hard cock. "Tell me baby say you want me to fuck you now"

"Ko-kook fuck me..." you loose between moans and whispers, still unsatisfied he smiles. His fingers go down to your folds to touch them softly, so delicate that you cannot feel it but your orgasm is still present. You just needed something that will fill you, his fingers plunge into you but without moving, just stretching your walls for him.

He didn't want to hurt you when he got out of control.

"It's not enough for me, darling ... If you can't do it right, I can't fuck you the way I want", his endless teasing takes you to a side so submissive and needy that it is impossible for you to tolerate more.

You needed me to fuck you so much.

"Please fuck me! Jungkook fuck me!" You scream, leaving your dignity aside. Your hands move desperately to bring him closer to you.

Another proud smile appears, growls just as impatient as you. Release your cock from his pants making you moan in anticipation, he was very big, you were sure that it was enough for him to sink into you to make you come around him. His cock crashing against his stomach, his hands caressing it for a few seconds just watching your body twist with pleasure.

You were perfect for him, he couldn't wait any longer.

"Suck me." He ordered, your face went blank. You quickly got into four though, crawling across the bed towards him. Your body sitting on your legs, your shaking hands stroking his cock a few times.

"Good girl..." A moan accompanied by praise from him was enough to make you squeeze again around nothing.

Your mouth opened, taking it as far as you could, which was less than half. Grunts and groans came from his pink lips, his hands on your head guiding your movements, he never stopped having control over you.

"Enough honey or I won't be able to fill you with my cum, you don't want that right?", A nasty laugh from him in a hoarse voice, you denied so absorbed in his game as to think twice.

You only wanted something from him, while he wanted everything from you.

Soon, you find that nothing really turns out the way you want it to.

He gently pushed you against the sheets, his body lunging against yours helplessly underneath. He took a few seconds to observe you and preserve the beautiful memory of you, giving your whole life to his hands. He would take better care of you than before, after you got pregnant with him he could do everything for you and give you the world if you asked him.

Eager, I lower his hands to squeeze your breasts, subtle moans coming from your lips and whispering to fuck you. His cock got even harder if possible, he held your legs in his arms so he could enter you without any problem. He thought about turning your back but he wanted to see you without missing any of the cute expressions you made.

"I love you..." he whispered, placing a chaste kiss on your knee before burying his cock in your tight, wet pussy. His arms are on either side of your head, his cold, calculating eyes staring at you.

You thought you saw a flash of affection in them, but it disappeared so quickly that perhaps it was an illusion of the moment. You could feel it inside him, his cock crashing against your walls, you feel the pleasure that runs through you.

You close your eyes, curses come from his lips so close to your face, you can feel his breath against your cheek. Silent moans in your throat, your hand clenches into a fist to avoid screaming in ecstasy.

"Cry honey, do it every damn day I fuck you in this damn bed. So hard," he growled, his thrusts were soft as if he was trying to take time to get you used to it.

"Please..." You sob, not really knowing what you were asking. Which goes faster? What will not get you pregnant? Or that he will set you free? You had lost your thoughts long ago.

His arms folded, coming closer to yours. Your head was to one side, his lips sought yours but surprisingly you refuse to kiss him. "Kiss me," he commands, his voice raised in dominance.

You deny again, your hair sticking to your sweaty face with the frantic movements of your head to move it away from your lips.

"It's not a question, _____... Kiss me now."

"Not!" You scream, your hands in fists hitting his firm chest. Jungkook can't know what happened to you, you seemed so willing a few moments ago and now you were, albeit weakly, trying to free yourself from him. "No, I do not want to!"

"Enough", he tries to grab your arms but you continue with even more force. "Stop!"

At last, he manages to grab your wrists with one of his hands, now you were motionless again just looking at him with fear. He fucking hates it, he doesn't want you to walk away from him in fear, but he can't help but feel powerful with your eyes shining with unfallen tears. You looked so beautiful.

In an unexpected act, you manage to whisper as confidently as you can, "I hate you."

His heart aches inside him, his free hand holds your face so that you will look directly at him, angry black orbs making you moan, the pain of his grip on your chin that grows harder. "I wasn't expecting anything less than thoughtlessness from a whore like you, hm? Dirty bitch." His hand rises into the air before slamming into your right cheek with all the strength it can muster.

A tear falls from the same cheek, getting lost on the pillow below you. Your face burns, but you don't have time to cry, his thrusts turn wild, as if he wants to hurt you.

And maybe, deep down inside of him, he wants it.

The tip of his cock crashing hard against your G-spot, the lower part of your stomach clenches, you know that you are going to cum around him but you do nothing to prevent it. Just squeeze your eyes, it will pass, it will soon be over, you whisper to yourself in comfort.

Your wrists are released from his grip, you hope to hug yourself now, but Jungkook is already taking one of your hands to hold it. Interlacing his fingers, as if they were lovers surrendering in a night of passion and love.

"I love you, I love you, I love you" he murmurs incessantly, leaving kiss after kiss on your face that he hit before. "Say you love me please"

His hips do not stop being implacable against yours, the lewd noise of skins colliding fills the environment, you lose yourself without heeding his request. Jungkook shakes you in his arms, his thrusts slowing down with his near orgasm.

"Say you Love Me, _____"

Your mouth closes, he growls angrily accelerating his rough thrusts again. He can feel when you come on his cock, a sigh leaves his lips, without stopping even though you try to get away from the over stimulation and without taking any more from him.

"What a good girl, coming around my cock so hard." They scoff, "I bet you want me to fill you up, right?"

You don't have the strength to deny it again, you just accept it.

"I will make you stay with me forever, love. You will take my son, we will have a family and you will never leave my side."

He felt perfectly how you tightened around him, his semen running inside you and filling your walls with white. He smiled, his breath against your face, your chest rising and falling as your eyes closed with exhaustion. You couldn't take it anymore, you wanted to sleep forever, because if you woke up you would be in an eternal nightmare.

His cock slid out of you, his hand quickly went to your pussy dripping with his seed and your arousal, his fingers took a little of both liquids to look at his fingers, shining in the darkness. Lasciviously I wipe them on your cheek, you were asleep to stop him. His fingers sank into you again, pushing his cum into you.

He had to make sure that you never had the thought of having a chance to escape from him.

Obviously you couldn't do it with your swollen belly with his son, right?

So far.

So cruel.

masterlist │ wattpad │ kofi │ previous fic.

(Questions are always welcome, any questions about the fic will be answered with pleasure)

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