#just so frustrating to deal with all of them nowadays

[irritablepoe]

one thing about me is that i'll freeze to death when angry. like i'm shaking and not from anger, it's just that i get so cold

[archangeldyke-all]

ok so the new still we're all raving over has me thinking- what if sevika is at the last drop having a drink while her mech arm is being serviced and she can't put her hair up with just one. She keeps getting strands in her face and keeps trying to blow them out of the way or shift her head so they fall away from her face but it's not working and she's getting frustrated. A VERY drunk reader notices, and forgetting that Sevika could snap her like a twig just walks up and puts her hair up for her?

WAHHHH

men and minors dni

you're not close with sevika. but you're about as close to people as she gets.

you both frequent the last drop: you because it's half a block from your job, sevika because it is her job. from time to time, you'll play a game of cards with her, laughing and graciously losing. you've asked her for a drink recommendation on occasion, she'll acknowledge you with a wave if you bump into each other in the lanes.

but you're not close.

not close enough for you to stumble over to her as you do now, with a single-minded focus on her loose hair.

sevika lost her arm to jinx's sister or something about a week ago. since then, she's been too busy dealing with the fucking civil war jinx launched zaun into, as well as the death of silco.

she looks haggard and exhausted as she storms into the bar, and you can't help but feel a little bad for her.

you've been drinking a lot. which is why you feel so fucking comfortable stumbling up to her side now.

"sevvy!" you shout. she glares over at you, but her sharp gaze has no effect on your drunken state. "hey, hotstuff." you slur as you saddle up in the stool beside her.

she gives you a quick quirk of her eyebrow. you burst into giggles. "thieram. get her a water." sevika grunts out before returning to her whiskey.

you pout, studying sevika's profile.

her dark eye-bags are ten times darker. the bruises she's been healing from the few scuffles she got in last week are still purple-- she's been too busy for her body to properly heal. her hair is dangling in her face-- her signature half ponytail nowhere to be found since she only has one arm nowadays.

you frown. you can fix that for her easily. "th'ram." you slur, looking at the bartender as he hands you a drink. "y' gotta rubberand?" you ask.

thieram nods, turns around quickly as you sip your water, before returning to you with a ball of rubberbands. you smile at him, before clumsily freeing one, then tapping sevika on the shoulder.

"c'mere." you mumble, standing out of your stool and walking into sevika's space. she stiffens, her back going straight as you gently comb the top layer of her hair back. you're careful as you work: not as coordinated as usual because of your inebriation, but laser focused-- your tongue sticking out of your lips and your eyebrows furrowed as you tie half of her hair off in a little pony tail at the back of her head.

she's blinking at you with wide, shocked eyes when you pull away with a triumphant smile. you giggle. "there ya go, sevvy." you say, kissing her scarred cheek.

the next morning, you wake up in your bed, not remembering how you got home from the bar.

(sevika walked you home, her heart hammering in her chest as her mind replayed your gentle fingers combing her hair back over and over. she tucked you in, pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead then locked your door and left your apartment. she swore to herself as she walked home that night that she wasn't going to let this become anything. you barely touched her hair for fuck's sake!)

((she only lets herself admit outloud that she fell in love with you that night once you've been married for three years.))

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352 @artinvain

[orecana]

behind those walls.....

Lucas/wong yukhei x feminine male reader

(note: if you don't like feminine male reader or anything in this fic, please click off the fic.)

this was requested by a person i would to like to keep anonymous because the internet is cruel and i don't want that to happen to anyone as well. i'm finally back with another fic at least. i'm a bit too busy nowadays but i made time to write fics for you guys who keep supporting and reading them, which im grateful for btw. i hope you guys enjoy this one too!

lucas opens the door to his house, groaning in frustration as he puts his bag down onto a nearby chair as he sits on a sofa. he sighs before resting and shutting his eyes, attempting to doze off for a while.

"had a rough day? or did your hookups scatter away like the rats they are?"

hearing that annoying yet familiar voice makes him open his eyes again as he sits up straight and looks at them.

y/n was sipping his cup of tea wearing his white pajamas as he tilts his head at lucas as if he's asking for lucas to answer his earlier question.

lucas only groans another time as he was reminded of his failed hookup encounter. the girls all tried to hookup with him. even though he played along with them, they immediately left him when they saw the size they had to deal with, which is making him shake his head.

y/n listens carefully as he sips his cup of tea while leaning against the kitchen counter. lucas and y/n.........have a weird relationship. they met one day in school when lucas was going for a smoking session. y/n just straight up walked up to him and asked for a cigarette. lucas was hesitant at first but when he looked at y/n a bit closer at that time.

he was wearing the shirt of the school uniform but for the bottom part he was wearing a mid length black and red skirt paired with heels. he was still gesturing his hand towards lucas, asking for a cigarette as his other hand is on his vest.

lucas just tossed a cigarette to y/n who lights it up with a lighter hidden under his skirt. he stands near lucas and begins smoking as well.

lucas looks at y/n curiously as to why a person like him would be......... like this. he had almost thought gays would be annoying or stupid but from their encounter earlier, he can safely say that y/n is none of those. the way he carried himself and those enticing lips pressing itself into the cigarette.

"would you stop looking at me like a lovesick fool?"

lucas immediately noticed the sharp tongue the other got, but he didn't back down. throwing away his cigarette into a nearby garbage bin, he walks up to y/n and places his hands on both sides. y/n only looks up at lucas uninterested as he keeps smoking his cigarette. lucas leans in as he looks at y/n in the eyes.

y/n sighs as he takes out his cigarette and throwing it into a bin before he grabs lucas by his shirt, pulls him down and kisses him. they eventually found an empty and secluded classroom where they had sex. eventually this became a normal occurrence, lucas has a pretty high reputation for being the popular boy as well as a playboy who goes through girls like changing clothes. of course, some never work out and whenever that happens they would make out and have sex. no strings attached...............

y/n sighs again as he looks at lucas's face. it looks so hollow and so.....empty. even if it doesn't look like it, lucas and y/n have a close relationship. there are things that only they know about each other or things only they can tell about each other. just like now for instant, y/n knows that there is more to the story than a failed hookup. he knows lucas like the back of his hand, he would never get THIS upset over a failed hookup.

he puts his hand over lucas's chin and drags it to his face. lucas looks a bit surprised as if he didn't expect y/n to do this. y/n might be a girly fag or a disgusting disease or whatever the people call him, but that doesn't stop him from living life as he could.

"what's wrong lucas? even a braindead person could tell that you're not doing well"

lucas doesn't answer as he tries to pry y/n hands off of him with an annoyed face. y/n only sighs as he lets go of lucas's chin and goes to the kitchen so he could wash the cup. lucas follow him from behind, wanting to get something to eat. he looks at y/n calmly washing the cup he just drank from.

although lucas will never admit it out loud, he does find y/n pretty. his pretty face and those fluttery eyelashes and those (your eye color) eyes. lucas feels something rise up in his heart and he knew what it was. He denies it immediately though. he can't be............ he has a reputation to keep, he can't................

y/n places the cup into a cupboard before taking a glance at lucas who is currently mentally scolding himself. he looks away for a bit, feeling a bit of tears staining his eyes before he dries it with his fingers before going up and nudging lucas.

"come on, go to bed. we have school tmr."

lucas was about to protest but sees y/n gives him that "look" making him scared

"I said..............Go TO BED!"

"why are you at my house right now anyways?"

"because i can and i will bitch, now get your ass to bed before i make you."

"make me"

y/n only sighs and pulls out his hairclip before pushing a button on it. the hairclip increases in size a bit before a small needle appears from the clip. lucas felt a sweat drop down his face as y/n stares at him menacingly.

all you can hear in that moment is the sounds of lucas screaming and begging for mercy while y/n is just scolding and roasting the shit out of him.

the next day at school, lucas was going to school on his bike as usual when he looks at his right and saw y/n walking there with his earphones on. he never noticed it before but y/n features were even more prominent right now since he did some make up. his eyes looks even brighter that compliments his school uniform except this time he's wearing an extra long skirt.

lucas felt that feeling in his chest again as he tries to block it out and focus on getting to school. y/n could only notice that familiar bike as he sighs and walks a bit faster to school. a simple 'you fool' was the only thing he muttered as he also focus on getting to school as fast as possible.

lucas felt like he was on drugs or at least that what he felt like... he keeps noticing y/n's features that he didn't before and everytime he does it he felt that thing in his heart which he absolutely despises, he cannot feel like this. they were friends nothing more!

infuriated lucas decided to go to the club again after school, thinking that hooking up with people will lift up his mood, he walked into the club and looked around, searching for potential hookup. a girl approached him and he decided she would be that person as they made out and went into a room. he was ready to fuck the girl but.... he couldn't get erect. no matter how hard he tried and then... he remembered y/n's face. he was immediately erect which didn't sit well with him as he got frustrated again and left the room and the club entirely.

he storms into his house again in frustration as he marches towards his room. he sinks into his bed as he stares to the ceiling. he shouldn't feel like this at all! why changed?! why did he suddenly feel like this?

he groans and just showered, to possibly cooldown. after he was done, he puts on a sleeveless shirt and collapses onto the bed, unknowingly dreaming of y/n being next to him.

the next morning he rode his motor to school again but this time he didn't see y/n on the road, which was weird in his opinion. they leave home at almost the same time so lucas would have definitely noticed him. he has this itching feeling that something is gonna happen so he hurries to school.

the moment he parked his motor, he heard someone scream and the sound of an impact. quickly he rushed to the area and he saw y/n being knocked into a wall by a bunch of bullies. he was about to rush in but then y/n looked at his direction and secretly signals lucas to stay there before y/n kicks the bullies in the stomach one by one. the bullies fall to the ground, groaning in pain as y/n stomps the ground with his heels that made the ground below it breaks. the bullies were scared and ran.

lucas wanted to run up to y/n but y/n only looked his way one more time before he goes back into school, leaving lucas there to stare at him with a hurt heart.

after school ends, lucas was getting on his bike to go home today, before he heard a familiar voice.

"i haven't seen you go straight home after school in a while, lucas"

he turns back to see y/n standing there with his school uniform and heels. he looks at lucas with a look that lucas can't decipher. lucas felt that pang in his heart again..... it had became too much at this point. he tried to invite y/n to sit on the motor with him, but y/n was no where to be seen. he looked everywhere around him, but gave up after not seeing him at all and drove home, unaware of the pair of eyes that were watching him from behind the gardens.

2 months has past, lucas tried to date girls as he used to, but the lingering feeling of y/n always make him unable to continue dating those girls. he also slowly found himself accepting the deep feeling inside of him. y/n was the only person who knew the "real" him, who stayed and took care of him. lucas smile unconsciously as he leaves class again for the day and looks at his phone. his eyes widen at the date.

it's y/n's birthday today.

he actually got excited, for the first time in his life, he has something to look forward to. he drove his motor to go to the mall to get something for y/n, unaware of the approaching car because of his excitement.

y/n just got out of school after his dance classes ended when he heard a murmuring among the students. curious, he listened and he wished that he wouldn't have had to hear that.

"did you hear? lucas is in the hospital!!"

"he got into a traffic accident while going somewhere."

y/n skin crawled immediately after he heard that. he immediately dashed out of school before using his phone to both call the nearest taxi and to track down lucas's location. y/n was kinda protective of lucas even if he doesn't know it himself, he secretly placed a tracker on the earrings he bought for lucas on his birthday, one that lucas will always wear no matter what.

y/n rides the taxi as he looks at the tracking device on his phone and tells the driver the location of the hospital. he was sweating buckets, he cared for lucas very much, even if he never showed it.

"you fucking idiot!"

y/n finally arrives at the hospital as he hands over the amount of money the driver needed before running into the hospital. arriving in front of the desk, he asked for lucas's room number which the nurse provided as he rushed there immediately.

he pushes the door open and sees lucas on the bed. the monitor showing his heartbeat at a stable condition. sighing in relief, y/n sits down on one of the chair in the room as he watches lucas sleeping form.

call him terrible for thinking this, but he thinks that lucas getting into this accident was good for him maybe. lucas has been grumpy nowadays, it's good now that lucas is sleeping peacefully.

y/n holds lucas's hand as he continue to stare at lucas. y/n would never admit it out loud, but he is kinda proud to have taken care and fell for lucas. he was the only one who saw him for who he was.

lucas squirm as he felt pain all over his body and slowly open his eyes. he opens them as he takes in the white ceiling and the surroundings.

"finally awake?"

hearing that familiar voice, lucas looks at his left and saw y/n sitting on the chair, holding his hand. lucas couldn't help but smile seeing y/n.

"hey...."

y/n suddenly stands near his bed as lucas prepares for whatever is coming and closes his eyes, but he felt arms wrapping around him and a quiet sob. quickly, he wraps his arms around y/n as well as they just stay in that position for a good amount of time.

"visiting times are over!"

y/n sighs as he releases from lucas and looks at him in the eyes before giving lucas a quick peck on the lips before grabbing his bag and going to the door. lucas who was stunned by the sudden kiss, immediately shouts for y/n to stop.

"what are we now? that peck....wasn't like any of our previous ones"

y/n turns around and look at lucas dumbstruck face and only gives a smile. "whatever you want it to be" before going out of the door, leaving a dumbstruck lucas who can't stop smiling after hearing that.

(i know the ending kinda sucks but i think.......this suits their relationship. what comes after? .....you guys can fill in the blanks with what you want.)

[dark-night-hero]

Oh gawd that "without you/me" imagine... Madame Ping better be regretting everything once MC's death is revealed. Imagine if Zhongli succumbed to erosion because of that, and now all of the adepti must put their own leader to rest—especially Xiao, whom was equally devastated by this turn of events. Venti implied there was someone interested in MC too so what if that was Xiao (gawd what if he also succumbs to karmic debt—)? Now Barbatos remains as the last of the Original 7, the supposed weakest

: Sorry for the late answer/reply. Had to go on a brainstorming for this one. And hehehe, I've made my convo with my cousin like a notepad because I kept dumping idea in it. Well I suppose this is the last part of the "without me/you" following the other imagine.

: without me | without you | part 3? imagine

"Oh Morax, I've heard you've retired. What business do I owe you to come into me like this?" Tightening his hold upon the guy.. a fellow being's neck, Zhongli- Morax hold his polearm an inch away from his face. "Where are they?" "Who? Ahhh wait pffff HAHAHAHA urgh-!" Without any tind of hesitation, Morax trusted the blade of his polearm on his stomach. "I asked you." "Where. Are. They." This time, his amber iris glowed much like of a dragon, sending fear down the mans spine and yet having no regrets upon realizing he had accomplished his goals already. "Haven't you heard the news Morax? They're dead. I killed them with my own hands while you were away-"

Imagine the way earthquake were once again frequent in the land of Liyue to the point were it reaches the Harbor. It wouldn't be that much of a big deal at first if it was just once in a while, but nowadays, it goes three times a day, sending fears in the heart of the citizens that lived in it.

Imagine at the same time, deep within the hidden caves in one of the oldest standing mountains of Liyue was their former Archon. Slowly, but surely little by little succumb to erosion as he suffered grieving for his beloved. Questioning every decisions he have made so far and regretting most of it. He should have been there for you, he shouldn't have leave you alone. He shouldn't have let you go, he shouldn't have made that deal that made the two of you further away from each other.

Imagine the pain of loosing you. You who he cherished the most now gone just like that, while he wasn't looking. Imagine the pain, the way a terror roars of a dragon who have lost his mate echos and crumbles the cave. The way the ground shake as he released the feeling of grieving, frustration, anger and self hatred. The way he started lossing himself and the only thing that manages to keep him calm was the flower field that was slowly turning into a wreck upon his own doing.

Imagine the way upon having another harsh session of destroying everything in sight which was nothing but rocks and flowers. He would calm down and cry, asking himself why and why and why. A never ending why. Why does it has to be you. He was fine to admire you from afar, he was fine if you were happy with someone else, he was fine as long as you are happy and not suffering. As long as you're alive and well, he doesn't mind. He was able to bare it for hundreds of thousands of years upon the contract. But now that you were gone. What more does he have?

Imagine if it aren't for you, he wouldn't have change. He wouldn't have much interest to other being, he would still be that same old aggressive God ready to make chaos along the way. He was never interest in making friends, he was never interested in being nice, nor taking people and protecting them. It was all on you, it was you who taught him to be nice, not to take everything for granted. It may not be thay obvious, but looking back. You were the only reason why he decided to keep going. He who aren't that much interest in anything, manage to find every little things matter, all because of you.

Imagine the way Zhongli... the way Morax started loosing himself. The moment he heard.. he moment he felt that you're gone. He just lost it. The way he started looking for the one who did this to you, the one he sealed all those years ago. He was careless, he should have killed him long ago. It was all his fault. Why you were hurting, why you were gone. It was all on him.

"I'm sorry." Kneeling in front of the messed flower field, he grip on one of the flowers. "I'm sorry." He repeated. "My love. Forgive me." He cried and then snap out of the dazed form he was in. Wondering for a moment what he was doing before looking down on his hands only to find a crushed flower in hand, he then flinch. Gently laying down the dead crushed flower in hand, looking at the messed up field, his amber iris where shaken, then he let out a shaky sigh. "What a mess. Let's get it fixed up. They're going to get mad seeing this mess on their lair."

"We need to end things as soon as possible." It was Cloud Retainer that spoke up. "We.. We can't face him alone." "But we need to try. Rex Lapis condition is getting worst. The more time we let by, the more he wouldn't be able to rest in peace peacefully." "What are your thoughts about this, Conqueror of demons?" All eyes turned upon the said Adeptus who have been silently listening on the meeting. "I.. I won't do it." "Alatus." "I'm not participating." He firmly said. "But-" "None of this would have happened if you just let them be in the beginning." "You-" "You can do whatever you want, but I'm out of this." He look at the fellow Adeptus coldly.

Imagine the silence after that. Then one Adeptus spoke up. "I don't get it." It was Streetward Rambler. "It was you who lost your master, who can you cling close to the one who killed her?" "Were you the only one who lost someone?" Xiao asked back. "You lost my master, I lost my master. We all lost her who was very dear to us." "Then why.." Why do you keep defending them just like Rex Lapis? "Why? Because you aren't the only one who lost someone! Just like you, (First name) lost someone very dear to them. They were my master friends too! If only, if only you let them repent the proper way. No one wanted this to happen! Do you think my master would be all happy knowing what you did? No! She wouldn't be! You said you were doing this make them know what they felt when you lost my master?"

"The moment they lost my master within their own hands, the pain was greater and never the same with us! And what? What did you do after that? Force Rex Lapis to stay out of them? For what? For greater pain you might never experience? Because of what? Because you thought that that would make them repent on their actions? They never wanted this to happen! And now what? Rex Lapis has to see them only from afar! Rex Lapis only get to admire them from afar! Do you think my Master would be happy to see this? All happening because of her death? No. I don't think she would be happy, never. If she have known that her death would result like this, she must be disappointed."

Imagine the way Xiao left after that, leaving the rest of the Adeptus on nothing but silence. The Streetward Rambler left with nothing but bundles of regret, little by little realizing her mistakes. Although it wasn't wrong, none can say it was right too. After all, everyone has different way of grieving, in this case, in her case. Maybe she went too far. Hurting and affecting so many lives and love in the process.

"And who you may be? As far as I can remember, My Lover is yet to return, let alone does they have any friends at the moment." "Rex Lapis." "Rex Lapis?" "They're gone." Although they were aware that the being right in front of them were faking kindness right in front of them, just like the first time they've met. As soon as those words left on their side, those amber iris went half lidded with silent rage of a dragon that was ready to blast at them at any moment. "Apologies but I just happened to fixed everything in here. My lover wouldn't appreciate coming back home with their lair all messed up so I would like to ask you to le-" "They're gone, Morax."

Imagine the way those amber iris widen, the sudden ache on his head and the never ending pain on his chest return, at the same time. A glimpse of what happened not too long ago came into mind. They're dead said the laughing bastard, I killed them with my own hands. Have you seen the way they look Morax? Ahhh just thinking about it gives me shivers HAHAHA. Stop. You're not dead, you just went away for a moment like you always did in the past. You just said goodbye to him not to long ago for a short venture. You asked him to look after your lair after giving him a quick peck on the lips. They're dead Morax, I made it sure if I can't have them. Then no one else can. I gave them a choice long ago, but they kept rejecting me, and then you came and they seems to have forgotten about me. "No, they're not dead." "Morax-" "Utter a single word about my beloved and I swear you're goin to meet your demise!"

Imagine the more they try to reason it out, the painful his headache is. The more they kept telling him you're gone, that you're dead. The more he felt rage. Because why do they kept telling him you're dead? Aren't you by his side not to long ago? Who are these beings even? How do they get in here? Where are these memories coming from? Who was the voice inside his head? You'll do just fine without me, My love. Are you really dead? He couldn't believe it, he couldn't accept it. No, fuck. No.

Imagine, the more he thinks about it. The more he looses it, black embers starts to swirl around him, his horns and dragonic teeth showing, his amber iris glowing. Morax, did you ever love me? Just like that, something inside him snap and went out of control. They're dead. They're gone. In a blink of eye, the moment he took his eyes off them, they're gone. Suddenly everything went quiet, just like a calm before the storm. Except this was nothing like a storm, it was a disaster. As the ground starts to shake, the Adeptus were on their guard. But the moment Zhongli.. Morax turn around, the moment they saw those clouded amber iris, they could only think of something. They couldn't win. Because those, those were the eyes of someone who have lost everything, they held no fear, just vengeance. It was destructive, so destructive.

Imagine, despite the fact that even though he was no longer in his prime, despite the effects of erosion, he was still powerful and all mighty. Even with the adeptus trying to snap him out of it, they knew it was too late. And the only way to stop Morax, Rex Lapis was to kill him as fast as possible. That way they would be able to at least end his sufferings quickly as possible. And yet here they are barely hanging on in front of him, their friend. The same friend that they didn't notice was suffering in silence all this time, all because they took you away from him. Making them wonder what kind of friend they were in the first place as they remembered Xiao's word.

Imagine not to far away from the scene was Xiao, watching his Lord, Rex Lapis, someone he had admire for a very long time fall into pits of despair thus is now suffering from erosion and must be put to rest as soon as possible before he was corrupted. Thus imagine the pain for as soon as he steps in the field, those amber iris met his yellow ones. "Zhongli sama." "I don't know what you're talking about, Alatus." Replied Morax as soon as Xiao spoke.

"Zhongli sama, this is enough." "Stop calling me that- I have no memories of taking that persona." "(First nam-)" "Don't. Don't you dare utter the name of my beloved." "(First name) wouldn't want to see you like this, Zhongli sama." "I said stop calling me that name!" "It's okay to cry, Zhongli sama." There was silence after that, only the two of then staring at each other. While he, Morax have obvious wounds and bruises all over his body, Xiao who just came in the scene was all well.

Imagine the way Xiao look a step forward, he wasn't afraid at all. All because he knew deep down, the god, the Archon he respected and was loyal to was deep within the being right in front of him still. "Zhongli sama. It's okay to take a rest now." With every step he take, Morax just stayed still, those clouded amber iris were obviously shaken. "Zhongli sama..-" "Zhongli.. Is the name they've given me." "You remembered." Little by little, light returns to those amber iris. "Yes. Of course it's the game they've given me." Little by little, he started to be calm.

Imagine as Zhongli calms down, that didn't take away the headache he was having, although this time, everything was far clearer. But perhaps with the erosion effect, he left himself getting weaker as moments passed by. Still realizing his outburst and the beins he have end up hurting due to his unstable state. "I-" "It's alright, Rex Lapis." It was the Cloud Retainer. "Despite being blinded by rage, you were unconsciously holding back aren't you?" She chuckle, looking at the direction of the unconscious fellow adeptus. "I know it's too late, far too late but. She- we went too far, didn't we." "No yo-" "You've done enough for this world, don't you think, Zhongli. No, Morax?" There another uninvited yet familiar face came in the scene, Venti or should we say, Barbatos.

Imagine the silence once again, but this time, Morax was rather surprised but eventually let out a sigh before falling back on the ground if it wasn't for Xiao who manage to prevent him from galling back into the ground. He was feeling rather weak but then strange enough, it was welcoming. "What are you doing here?" "I came to say goodbye to an old friend." That made Morax chuckle, it was slow, but visible cracks were now appearing all over his body. "How did you know?" "Whispers in the wind." Venti then kneel right beside Morax who being supported by Xiao as he sat on the ground.

Imagine as moment passed by, Zhongli was rather calm as if he didn't went on a rampage for the last few months after your death. He was calm as if he waiting, maybe he was waiting. Morax. "Zhongli sama." In reply, Zhongli could only humm. "You've done enough, you can rest peacefully now." He didn't failed to notice the way the little hand that was supporting his back was trembling. Morax. "Have I?" He asked and Xiao nodded causing a genuine smile makes it way on Zhongli's lips.

"Yes, you can rest easily now." Xiao reply to the one he respthe most. "Don't make them wait any longer." He added causing Zhongli's eyes to go widen before letting out a heart felt laugh. "Alright." The cracks then starts to spread faster. "Though if you all don't mind." With every bit of strength left as he, Morax started to disintegrate. "Would you mind looking after this place? It's very dear to me, to us."

Imagine as for a moment, everything went black for Morax as he closes his eyes, only for him soon be to blinded by light, causing his brows to frown and hands went to shield his eyes away from the blinding light. And upon adjusting his vision, he soon realised where he was. In the same flower field, except it was endless, and compared to the cave ceiling on your lair, it was rather bright out the sun in here. Not that he minded tho, not when he could hear familiar foot steps approach. And as he did, he turn around. There you were eyes wide as if you did not expect him to sense you approaching him.

Imagine, all across the field, with a good distance between the two of you, your eyes met. And as soon as it does. You let out a laugh and open your arms, and that's all it took him to run after you. Forgetting everything, he ran after you. And as soon as you were within his reach, he pull you into a tight embrace. Burying his face on your neck, breathing your scent, feeling your pulse, your warmth. And you pat him in the back as you embrace him back, closely listening to his rapid heartbeat. "Don't ever asume I could and would bare to live without you ever again." By his words, you laugh continuously patting him at the back. "I'm never living a life without you, keep that in mind." He added.

"Was it that hard without me?" The way he nuzzled close to you was enough to figure out as an answer. "Alright, that was my bad." You smile. "(First name)." "What it is?" Gently withdrawing himself away from you, "I love you." He spoke while looking at you directly in the eyes. "If you ask me again if I ever loved you. The answer is I did, I never stopped, I don't think I could never stop loving you." Brushing away the tears that roll down his cheeks, you kissed him gently. "I love you too. Thank you for making it back to me, my love, my Morax."

Imagine, back in the land of Teyvat where the Adeptus and an old friend was left alone. As Xiao stare at the spot, his arms were Rex Lapis just disappeared from. He felt a hand on his shoulder. "They'll be fine." It was Barbatos, Venti. "What you did was the right thing to do." Although he did say that, there was a bitter smile on Venti's face before he shake his head and only then was a genuine smile on his face. "I guess this makes be the last man standing, Morax." He whispered to himself before turning his attention back to Xiao who was staring at him. "If you don't mind, would you like to listen to my melody tonight?"

A life without you is no life at all.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2023°

: man! that was long, I was not expecting it go be this long, what the. well then, I guess this is the end. also, I think I did stray away from what was asked but I think it's pretty close? well then its 0:55 in the morning and still got classes around 8 am. so yeah, gnight.

[purplifield]

imagine, a Christian girl/boy (reader) x hobie brown. How would he deal with them?

Love this idea a lot 🥰 first time writing in headcanons, honestly I probably went off the rails but hopefully I fulfilled your wishes!

I kept it as gender/race neutral as I could, if you see flaws, please let me know

🪻| Crosses and pentagrams

First of all, this boy is not waiting till marriage. He doesn’t believe that marriage is necessary and if that would be your only need in life, you would sadly have to part your ways.

BUT he is quite persistent. So he loves himself a challenge.

You met when you were volunteering for church, handing out flyers for a charity concert that would take place in church yard. As intimidating Hobie was, you decided to walk up to him and start your usual introduction

“Hello there! I’m y/n, a believer in goodness! Would you be interested in coming to a charity concert? Coming to mass afterwards is…optional” you said, last sentence was unsure, since while you talked you took a look at his outfit, full of spikes, heavy jewellery and a pentagram necklace. Yet weirdly, he stopped and listened intently instead of quickening his pace like most did.

“Tell you what, gimme your number and I’ll think of more questions to ask about the event” he smiled sheepishly and gave you a marker from his pocket, tapping the flyer.

That’s how your situationship started.

You never saw the pentagram on his neck again once you said you don’t like it. You noticed little things he did for you, compliments on your mostly white and usually modest appearance.

Like the devil he was, he tempted you to wear your more revealing tops, your excuse being the heat. (You thought he didn’t notice but oh boy he did)

Soon situationship turned into a relationship and you enjoyed kissing his pierced lips. You found out that making out did make you feel good. But you were scared so once it felt too good, you would back away and hear a frustrated groan.

It was cute seeing you two together; it was an ‘opposites attract’ typa couple. Him in black, silver jewellery with different crystals, piercings everywhere. And you- a modest person with minimalistic neutral color palette and simple gold jewellery. The only ring you wore ever was your purity ring.

Which eventually got taken off when you finally felt the urge to suck his dick, slowly learning that you were just a mere mortal with desires.

Hobie was ecstatic, knowing that the two months he waited were worth it and now he guided you to get on your knees and prepare.

This man is such a tease. He knew that you felt bad for giving in for your desires, and had a field day with this information

“Such a bad Christian you are, shouldn’t you wait for marriage?” He smirked, leaning into the chair and held you down on his dick. He groaned, feeling the little vibration of your moan.

After your first time he couldn’t take his hands off of you whenever you two met.

He would make you cum in an alleyway, suck him off in the streets at like 4am when rarely anyone was awake.

He would love when you had your cross necklace on, tugging on it whenever he wanted to kiss your fucked out face.

When nowadays you would get on your knees in the church, your cheeks would flush at the dirty thoughts you had.

He was possessive; if he saw you talking to another guy, he liked to mark you up, he knew that you would stress over it and try to cover it.

“Good child of god knows that they should be loyal, so what the fuck was that about?”

Would love to fuck you dumb, corrupt your mind.

It was truly the end of your journey with god once you decided to move in with him. Despite the fights with your dad, you finally gave in to Hobie

It was evening. You just changed in you pyjamas. You felt how Hobie was staring at you, but you didn’t mind.

“Finally you done with your skincare shimcare routine, I was wai-”

“Shush” you silenced him and kneeled leaning on your bed, starting to pray. You mumbled the prayer to yourself, eyes closed. Your felt how the mattress shifts and something touches your elbows. You slightly open your eyes before re-signing.

Hobie was sitting in front of you, legs spread, you were now in between them. He tilted his head with smirk, looking at his hardened cock, showing through his boxers and sweats, briefly.

“Did you say your goodbyes to god yet? Can you please show attention to me now?”

-

His dick inside of you, as you tried to reach your orgasm. He smiled at your needy and fucked out expression. He has edged you for a while now, pulling out as soon as your moans get higher.

“Please please, let me cum Hobie”

“Who’s your god now?”

“You! You’re my god. Please just let me cum”

“Your wish is my command”

[parkjayist]

ESSENCE OF ROMANCE: FLOUR(sour) START - CHPT. 1

sum park jongseong is in denial, but the truth is undeniable: he's hit a dead end. how can he maintain his title as a world renowned chemist if he can't even advance his own research? meanwhile, you, an aspiring chemist, have faced constant belittlement from your male colleagues as you pursue your own groundbreaking research in isolation. when jongseong finds you conducting experiments in HIS own lab, he's enraged. he's enveloped in fury when he realizes that you two are trying to research the same topic. yet, buried beneath his rage lies a deep sense of desperation, and he's willing to do anything to finally finish his research he's been putting off for so many years. perhaps you're the missing piece in his research (and life).

pairing chemist!park jongseong x female chemist!reader

genre written series, slowburn, angst, fluff, " enemies " to lovers, coworkers au, 1960s au, smarty pants x smarty pants

warnings misogyny, stereotypes, awkwardness, some basic chemistry explanations in dialogue, irrational behavior, arguing

an hii! first chapter and they're already fighting!! i'm planning to make the 2nd chapter a little longer. tysm for all the support on this series so far!! i hope to hear your feedback/thoughts on it throughout the process of this series :D

wc 1.8k SERIES MASTERLIST

park jongseong always despised when people barged into his lab. the quiet whispers of his name and the staring of his coworkers burned into his chest. his lab was a sanctuary, a haven where he could indulge in his experiments without the intrusion of others. so when he discovered a stranger trespassing amidst his equipment, his irritation surged like an overheated bunsen burner.

“what the hell do you think you’re doing in my lab?” 

"um, it's not what you think," you stuttered, your nerves evident as you spoke in shaky voice.

jongseong's brow furrowed in annoyance. "then what, pray tell, is it?" he snapped, his impatience seeping through. “the one day i accidentally leave my lab open, a random secretary comes in. who knows, what if you blew something up?” he sighed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. 

inconceivable hypocrisy, you thought. what’s truly unsafe is his negligence, leaving random items around in his lab …

"look, i'm not a secretary," you retorted, frustration evident in your tone. "my name is (___  ___), i'm a chemist, just like you. and i certainly didn't come in here to blow anything up. i needed materials for my own research."

jongseong's brow furrowed further, skepticism etched across his features. "sure you are," he scoffed, his impatience palpable. "trying to save face now, are we? well, regardless of who you are, you shouldn't be in here. you could have put yourself and this entire laboratory in danger!"

with that, jongseong turned on his heel and stormed out of the lab, leaving you to fume in his wake. you let out an exasperated huff. men nowadays, you mused to yourself. so ignorant and unwilling to listen to anyone but themselves.

as you cleaned up your lab space, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of resentment towards jongseong. after all, it wasn't your fault that he had left his lab unlocked, nor was it fair for him to place the blame squarely on your shoulders. nevermind that – you’d have to deal with him another day.

the following day, park jongseong was sought out to the main secretary yu jimin, determined to rectify the intrusion which had thrown a wrench into his research. as soon as jimin saw jongseong walk over – she immediately got up, opening her mouth to greet him when he interrupted her. 

“you need to keep your secretaries out of my lab,” he demanded, his tone tinged with irritation. “one of them, miss … miss (___), was in there last night without my permission.”

jimin arched an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed with jongseong’s sudden burst of anger. “oh, miss (___) isn’t a secretary, she’s a lab technician. although she likes to call herself a chemist…” she trailed off with a shrug. 

jongseong stood there in silence for a few seconds as his cheeks burned with embarrassment. “oh .... well, um … that’s good to know,” he mumbled, his pride wounded by his rash actions.

at lunchtime, you quickly got out your lunch and your notebook. today’s lunch was a freshly baked croissant with two egg tarts. you took a bite out of the egg tart– crispy yet soft in the inside, you noted. you quickly wrote your thoughts down into your notebooks, taking another bite of the tart. you hummed happily, satisfied with the hard work you put into baking these yesterday. suddenly, you hear a chair in front of you being pulled back, the noise of someone dragging it grating your ears. any remnants of contentment from your meal dissipated instantly, replaced by a surge of tension. he looked at you sheepishly as you tilted your head sideways as if to ask for him to speak. 

his expression suddenly turned contrite, and he took a deep breath before saying, “i think i owe you an apology. i’m sorry for the way i snapped at you last night – i was just stressed and caught off guard. if you couldn’t tell from everyone whispering around, i haven’t been able to do much in the lab,” he looked down at his arms, ashamed of his past actions. 

you glanced at him, your gaze meeting his before you felt the need to quickly remove your eyes from him. “oh, okay,” you replied nonchalantly, your tone betraying little emotion.

jongseong blinked at you, unsure of how to proceed. finally taking a seat, he couldn’t help but notice the tantalizing aroma wafting from your lunch. he felt his stomach grumble, a reminder of his own neglected meal. 

“wow, that looks really good,” he remarked, his eyes lingering on the croissant. 

you looked up, a faint smile playing on your lips. “thanks,” your tone softening slightly. “i made it myself.”

you pulled off a small chunk of the croissant, holding it out on your palm for jongseong to take. he stared at it before waving his hands telling you to eat it yourself. 

“i possibly couldn’t,” he said, “you should eat your own lunch.”

however, you were not convinced and continued to hold it out for him. "i insist," you replied, holding it out to him once more.

eventually, he gave into the aroma of the food, taking it and quickly shoving it into his mouth. his eyebrows shot up in surprise as he nodded furiously, unspoken approval of your baking. you noticed how his eyes sparkled with satisfaction, almost letting out a chuckle at his childlike behavior. 

“this is– this is amazing,” he exclaimed, his words slightly muffled. 

“well, it’s all thanks to chemistry,” you explained, a spark of enthusiasm igniting within you. “the role of chemicals and molecules in baking is extremely important,” you leaned in closer, eager to share your knowledge. “take flour, for instance. it's not just a simple ingredient; the complex network of proteins and starches interact in fascinating ways during the baking process. that’s how you can create this croissant right here.” 

jongseong leaned forward, intrigued. "proteins and starches? how do they affect the final product?"

"well," you began, "the proteins in flour, specifically gluten, provide structure to baked goods. when you mix flour with water and knead it, you activate the gluten strands, forming a strong, elastic dough. this elasticity gives bread its chewy texture and allows it to rise during baking." 

as you spoke, you couldn't help but notice jongseong's genuine interest, his eyes alight with curiosity. no one has ever been this interested in listening to you – other than your brother. encouraged by his engagement, you continued to talk more about your dishes, even handing him your egg tart to prove the science of cooking. 

jongseong nodded along, his curiosity piqued. "i never realized there was so much science behind baking," he admitted, a hint of awe in his voice.

"it's fascinating, isn't it?" you replied, a smile gracing your lips. "the chemistry of cooking is just as intricate as any lab experiment. it's about understanding the underlying principles and applying them in creative ways."

amidst the lingering silence, jongseong's unexpected question caught you off guard. "so, i was wondering…  what were you trying to research?" he asked, his tone sincere but tinged with careful curiosity. 

you arched an eyebrow, wary of his sudden interest. "what's it to you?" you replied, a hint of defensiveness creeping into your voice.

jongseong's expression became more timid as he explained, "well, i believe you're a capable chemist, and i could use some help with my own research."

a suddenly surge of anger welled up within you, hot and fierce. had your lively discussion with jongseong been nothing more than a calculated maneuver to lower your defenses? was he merely seeking to extract valuable research information from you, only to claim it as his own? you should’ve known, from all your experiences trying to make friends, that everyone was bound to try to use you. they never saw you as a companion. 

“miss (___)....?” he waved a hand in front of you, eyebrows furrowed with worry. 

"you've never even seen me in the lab," you pointed out, a touch of frustration coloring your words. "you thought i was just a secretary, not a scientist. how do i know you're not just trying to take advantage of me?"

jongseong's brow furrowed, his confusion evident. "no, why would i do that?" he protested, genuine surprise in his voice.

"are you serious right now?" you snapped, your frustration bubbling to the surface. "why would you suddenly want my help in the lab? just to swoop in and take credit for my work?"

jongseong's eyes widened in genuine surprise. "no, that's not it at all," he protested, his tone pleading. "i genuinely believe we could work well together, and i want to give you the credit you deserve."

you paused, considering his words for a moment before relenting. "okay, fine," you sighed, "i’'m studying abiogenesis."

jongseong's eyes narrowed as a spark of suspicion ignited within him. "abiogenesis? that's what i'm researching too," he stated, his voice tinged with accusation. "did you go into my lab trying to steal my research? is that why you were in there?"

his words hit you like a slap in the face, igniting a firestorm of anger within you. he was so kind a few seconds ago, and now he's accusing you of trying to steal research from him. how dare he insinuate such a thing? the audacity of his accusation sent a surge of indignation coursing through your veins.

with a mixture of disbelief and frustration, you shot back, "are you serious right now? do you honestly believe i would stoop so low as to steal your research? that's absurd and insulting!"

your voice rose with each word, echoing off the sterile walls of the lunch room. everyone around you turned their heads, curious at the sudden burst of sound. you felt eyes burning at the back of your head, yet you could care less. all you could think about was beating park jongseong up.

"but you just admitted you're studying abiogenesis," jongseong countered, his tone defensive yet tinged with uncertainty.

you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. "so what? just because we're both studying the same thing doesn't mean i'm out to steal your work. if anything, i could help you with your research, but clearly, that's not what you want."

your frustration boiled over, your words laced with an edge of sarcasm. "congratulations, jongseong, you've managed to push away the one person who could have helped you."

as you packed up your lunch, you pushed your chair back with a sharp screech, shooting him a glare before briskly walking away.

jongseong slumped in his seat, weariness etched into every line of his features. his brow furrowed in frustration, annoyance simmering beneath the surface as he replayed the confrontation with you in his mind. the weight of his desperation hung heavy in the air as he realized just how close he had come to securing someone to assist with his research.

next.

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

tagged: @sophiko22 @minseongsworld @enha-stars

[sunnysam-my]

Warning I get a bit politically and frustrated I guess.

One important message to you all. Keep your fucking indoors-outdoors beef outside of the adoption groups, post and shelters. I don't care what side you're on, do not bring it up, because by doing that you are actively harming the chances of the kitten/cat being adopted.

Here, let me explain to you a few concepts that so many people apparently can't graspt:

Not everyone can adopt any cat in need they see. That's just not possible.

Just because someone isn't trapping every single cat outdoors they see doesn't mean they're animal abuser or are single handly responsible for ecological damage.

Not every feral cat can be caught and castrated by a random person with no training or equipment.

Cats born into the wild are not homeless. Do not treat them like strays.

A feral cat is an outdoor, free-roaming cat that has never been socialized to humans and is living in a “wild” state. Because they're not socialized to people, feral cats are not adoptable. If you take them to a shelter, they will almost certainly be killed there.

In the eyes of the law of many countries feral cats born in the wild are not and, by the definition, cannot be homeless as the wilderness is their home. Taking them from their natural habitat and entrapping them in houses is wrong and in same place even illegal.

Feral cats, unlike strays, cannot live a happy life indoors. They often live in groups, called colonies, wherever they can find food. They are happier in their own territory with their colony family.

Stray cats on the other hand were once pets and are lost or abandoned. They will try to make a home near humans in garages, porches or backyards, because they relay on human help.

Not every wild-born kitten will be feral, in fact most won't, and not every feral cat can't be tamed, some can go through process of socialising to make the adoptable. That's not up to you to decided tho, unless you met the cat and know your shit.

Because people where I live (Poland) found this simple concept so hard to understand, animal shelters around me no longer accept cats from private people, only from organisations and authorities, since so many of them were people's outdoors pets and feral cats. This already makes it harder to help cats in need.

But the real problem I have is something that happens more and more nowadays and even happend to my family. A feral cat, who lives in our forest and we're trying to tame, gave birth to 7 kittens on our farm and left them in our care. Only two of 7 were feral and strong enough to live in the wild, so we tried to find homes for the rest. Upon mentioning they were born from a feral living close us we were blocked from every single adoption group. The reason? We apparently were 'abusers and breeders', because we tried to help kittens who would 100% died if left alone, instead of focusing on somehow finding cats that lives somewhere in the giant woods, capturing them with no equipment and driving with them 2h+ to make them go through abortion and castration that most of them probably wouldn't even survive. Yeah.

BTW we never found homes to those kittens, because of crazy indoor cat ladies that would shit on every single post of ours and got us blocked. Obviously we didn't leave the cats alone, considering only one in five feral kittens will live to five months of age. We were forced to travel with them 4 hours and keep them in our small house with 3 other adult cats that were not happy about the situation. Eventually we gave one to my Uncle, one was left at the vet to find home (she did), and the last one stayed.

So, for the love of God, regardless if you think cats should be indoors or outdoors DO NOT FUCKING ARGUE ABOUT IT UNDER SOMEONE "FOR ADOPTION" POSTS. Even if you're right. Do not try to bring feral cats to shelters. Do not make it some random person responsibility to deal with feral cats. If you really care about those outdoors, stray and feral cats then research the topic and try advocating for change with how we handle wild-born kittens and castration of feral cats, because right now, depending on where you live, the authorities will most probably only maybe check on them and give them food.

In case I haven't made it clear, I do not think feral cats should be just left alone, even if they shouldn't be adopted.

[go6jo]

HIII HOW ARE YOU I HOPE YOU'RE DOING FANTASTIC

Okay so you don't have to but I'm a pre-med student and the pressure is kicking my ass and I need some geto comfort content😍

So could you please write something in which the reader has been feeling super overwhelmed because of people's expectations of them but has been trying to suppress it to not breakdown and one day is triggered by something and when geto asks how they are, they breakdown completely and geto comforts them?

AGAIN YOU REALLY DON'T HAVE TO IF YOU'RE BUSY BUT I HOPE YOU DO

OKAY THAT'S ALL AND I HOPE LIFE'S TREATING YOU WELL!! LOVE YOU <3

-Chérie

i don't think you'd ever reach the point of a full blown meltdown with suguru. he's so in tune with you and your emotions, he knows you so well he can almost read through you like an open book, he notices the small changes in your behaviour, knows every telltale sign of your frustration, takes note of the plate of fresh fruit he cut for you left untouched besides you on the desk, notices how even though you barely even finish your food nowadays, whenever you slip into bed next to him, you always ask him to rub your tummy to sleep, complaining about a stomach ache that just doesn’t seem to go away - knows you're teetering on the edge of breaking down and is so cautious, so careful with you as not to push you over it. he never strays too far from you, in case you might need him, maybe you'd be sitting on the dining table studying for an upcoming exam and he'd notice your fingers tangled in your hair, unconsciously tugging on the hairs of your scalp and he'd sit down next to you, quietly because he doesn't wish to disrupt you from your profound state of concentration, and slide his hand into yours, to hold it, rubbing circles with his thumb on the back of your hand - he doesn't make a big deal out of it, rarely ever calls you out on your harmful habits, not out loud at least, he does his best to always intervene, though discreetly, and is very sly about it because he is afraid that if he acknowledges them, if he scolds you on it, upon your fragile state, he might be doing more harm than good, so he makes it his mission to soothe any stress you might have, to silently ease you into relaxing even if just a little, to comfort you and to be there for you. so suguru treats you so very delicately, like fine china, if he notices you trying to read through a whole textbook in one sitting, without taking breaks he will walk over to where you're seated, no words spoken, he will start massaging the tension that has started building up on your shoulders away, he does it slow and it's somewhat sensual and so so good, he's pulling small sighs of pleasure out of you and his touch is so soothing - he always knows just the right strings to pull - he's never invasive, you won't notice how he's slowly but surely coaxing you into leaving work aside, the book you'd been reading left abandoned opened on the table, long forgotten. you won't notice how easily you to turn to putty in his hands, he makes you submit so willingly that it seems like this was all your decision to begin with. and once he feels you start to relax into his touch, once he thinks you're pliant enough, once he has got you just where he wants, his hand inches closer and closer to your neck until it wraps itself around the front, and its gentle - his grip - yet a domineering gesture, pointer finger stretching to push against your jaw and force you to look up at him.

"have you eaten?" you don't answer. your head is leaning against his stomach, his fingers are kneading at your jaw and you think you might fall asleep. "baby." hes more assertive this time around, capturing your attention and forcing your eyes open.

"i'm studying, suguru." your voice melts away with every syllable, eyes growing heavy and body going limp against him - he has got you, hook, line and sinker.

"and i haven't seen you take a break today." suguru is your boyfriend, if you won't take care of yourself, he will. "you'll make yourself sick, pretty" so he pulls back the chair you're sitting on and he bends down to your level, stretching his arms open to beckon you into holding onto him, hoisting you up when you do.

he carries you to bed and sits you down on his lap, your legs circling his waist, the heel of your feet digging into his lower back and holding him flush against you. the palms of his hands start creeping up the skin of your thighs, then higher to your waist, gently stroking up and down your sides, up and down, then just the tip of his fingers, a touch so light, barely even there, brushing up and down, up and down. he stops only to reach for the back of his shirt and take it off, knows you like it better that way, when there is nothing in between the two of you, when you can press your cheek directly to his naked chest. then his hands are back on your body, feeling you up, massaging the muscles on your back, dutifully switching between a gentle touch and a firmer one, just languidly rubbing up and down your back until he feels your breath hitch when his fingers press against a particular sore spot on your body, which lets him know of a painful knot that might require his attention. and he always knows just the right spots to touch, the right pressure to apply because once he starts relieving the tension, that over the past few weeks has settled deep inside you, its not long until he begins to feel your tears on his skin, he never has to do much - just has to do it right - for you to let it all out, to open up to him.

"im so tired, 'ru."

you offer yourself to him so readily. he never has to beg you to let him in, it may take a little effort on his end but you always end up handing him the key to your heart on a silver platter.

"i know, baby"

"i don't think i can do this anymore." your voice is weak, it quivers as you sob quietly into the crook of his neck.

"yes, you can. you always do." he tries to hush you with a quick peck to your temple, soft fingers threading through your hair, unruly for, these days, you barely even took the time to brush it thoroughly "just lay here with me for a while and i'll make you feel better, yeah?"

and hes such a nerd, he would let himself fall backwards into the matress with you lying on top of him and hed tell you all about an article he recently read on how people store a lot of negative emotions on their hips and he'd just very soothingly knead on them for you, to try to gather if it's true, what he read, and maybe you'd cry a little bit more in his arms and he'd just press the most tender, lingering kisses to your temple and swallow the whines you let out in pain when his fingers dig a tad too deep into your flesh, or press down into a more sensitive spot. he's the best stress reliever.

[nordickies]

Iceland Headcanon Masterpost!

Halló! It's time to update my Nordic 5 headcanons! I'm offering you this (way too long) master post of big and small headcanons I have for each family member, and first up we have Iceland

Note: My headcanons are just my interpretations of the characters. As a warning, I am known to drift away from the canon quite a bit when necessary, focusing more on history and culture. I love hearing how other people view these characters, especially if they contradict my ideas, so feel free to share them! Also, all my headcanons are free to steal - feel free to add them to your own interpretations

Read the whole list under the cut!

Physical Features

Iceland is the second "shortest" Nordic at 180 cm / 5' 11″

Iceland has a lean and soft body type, which lacks definition or muscle

He may not be physically strong, but his active lifestyle keeps him in good shape and makes him relatively enduring - he could hike up mountains without problem, while his older brothers (Denmark) would keep complaining the whole time

He has a birthmark on his right leg, below the knee, supposedly presenting the Vestmannaeyjar

He has a red spot on his forehead, that is teasingly called Surtsey

Iceland has ashy blonde wavy hair, which he keeps in its natural state. Though for formal occasions he tries to comb it to the side, which usually causes frustration in a hurry

He tried to grow facial hair once but got teased for it, and now he's too self-conscious to try it again

He has faint freckles on his nose and acne scarring on his forehead and cheeks. He also has bacne

Iceland has a tendency to get reddish skin. Whether it's the cold weather pumping his cheeks red or just a physical reaction to emotions. He often experiences windburns

He gets voice cracks more often than others

Personality

Iceland has always been very independent and free-spirited. He hates when others tell him what to do, even when it comes from a place of just trying to help

He values self-efficiency and has taken care of himself from a very young age. He's calm and composed, at least on the surface

He's a young nation and a bit childish. It's something his family loves about him but something he might get judged for in work-related settings

Ice has this innocence and child-like naivety. He follows the world news quite intensively nowadays but he can have a rather simple outlook on life and its problems. He can also be a bit reckless and inexperienced, like with finances, which might backfire occasionally

He's known to be the daredevil of the group. Also lacking common fears, such as the fear of heights, which let him remain calm in unexpected situations

He's a proud person but not arrogant. He's proud of his country and people; he talks about it with a big smile. He thinks he lives in the best place in the entire world and has a close relationship with his tight-knit population

Iceland is the type of person to make everything out of anything, both positive and negative. A small victory is a huge celebration, but a minor inconvenience can ruin his day

He's a bit blunt. He might accidentally say something rude but immediately realize it and be embarrassed. Iceland is very respectful and fears offending anyone

Ice is emotionally the most open and vulnerable of the Nordics and isn't afraid to cry if he needs to

He's also a bit hotheaded and gets frustrated easily, especially if things don't immediately go as he wants. Learning new skills takes him a while due to his bad temper

Iceland can be a loud personality who proclaims his space, at least with close friends and family. A trait he learned from Denmark. He just gets irritated when the other Nordics pester him, and he will let them know about it

He's extremely caring and always ready to help others, lending a hand even to complete strangers

If anyone takes the time off to go and visit him, it's a huge deal but also something that makes Iceland feel a bit anxious. It feels bad that a person dropped everything just to see him. But if people do it, Iceland will make sure to be a lovely host and welcome them with open arms

He may overreact to people having arguments or petty disagreements and he wants them to get resolved immediately. He hates seeing people angry and can make him emotional. Iceland is remarkably pacifistic and having grudges seem like a total waste of time; fighting always leads to the other side feeling bitter or hurt

He has a weird, even dark, sense of humor. He finds Hugleikur Dagsson's illustrations extremely funny

Iceland has no organization or time management skills whatsoever. He's very flexible when it comes to planning, but you can never be 100% sure that things go as you initially planned with him

Iceland feels stress from his position and fears of burning out. He's still fairly young and not that experienced, but he has difficulty talking about it in case his abilities are questioned

Iceland appreciates when people have trust and confidence in him. He feels like his skills are downplayed a lot, but he's actually very reliable and intelligent

Hobbies

Whenever he feels down, he goes to one of the local farms to take care of horses and sheep; they're therapeutic to him

He plays fiðla (Icelandic fiddle) but he's not particularly skilled at it. He still tries though, even if he's not musically talented. Iceland wants to preserve as many of his unique traditions as he can

Iceland had to learn how to make traditional sweaters (mostly Lopapeysas) because all of his friends kept asking for one. He usually gives them away as a birthday or Christmas present

Ice is a decent cook but not a creative one. He can make you a traditional meal without a problem but learning any new recipe can be time-consuming for him. He has done things this way for centuries, so being constantly introduced to new trends and ideas can be overwhelming to him. But Sweden is trying his best to help him out

Iceland doesn't like baking. He does enjoy pastries and such, but he doesn't have the patience or energy to make them. To him it's annoying to follow complicated recipes, the ingredients are expensive, it takes too much time and the kitchen is a mess afterward. He just doesn't get the appeal of the hobby

Ice likes all things weird and unusual, and he collects strange items and trinkets he comes across, like ceramics or just weird stones in nature

Growing up, he was rather sheltered and lonely. One way for him to ease that loneliness was by sending letters to various places, in search of a pen pal - and there are a few friends he made that way! Ice might still send letters on special occasions, and he remembers that time fondly

He's into photography, and has been into it for a while! He still has all his old retro cameras stored somewhere. His land is particularly picturesque, so Iceland is snapping photos quite frequently. He just adores his land and nature, and photos are just a great way to store memories

When the weather allows, he'll head outdoors for a beach picnic or hiking in the mountains. Out of the Nordics, he's the most used to bad weather and never complains about it. In his words, "There is no bad weather, only bad clothes"

Ice loves relaxing at the local spas, saunas, and hot springs. Recently he has developed a skincare routine, and he is trying to teach the rest of his family to adopt something similar too

Iceland knows a thing or two about football and handball. But other than that, he's out of the loop regarding sports - He just likes hiking by himself or trying ice and rock climbing!

Iceland is familiar with his local wrestling sport, Glíma, but he quickly realized that contact sports aren't his thing. His brothers might still teasingly challenge him into a match though

He's quite gifted at chess, being the land of surprisingly many chess grandmasters. He and Norway might play for hours if they have time to do it

Iceland is a fast and active reader with an impressive bookcase wall at home. He has read all the classics. He mostly likes gloomy fiction, Icelanders can just relate to cynical topics - and he likes historical sagas and poetry, of course

Fantasy is one of Iceland's favorite book and tv genres. Though he tends to point out all the inaccuracies relating to his country and culture, especially about the Vikings

Iceland also likes fantasy RPGs! He enjoys coming up with storylines and playing campaigns online with his teen-nation friends; it's an activity where his literature geek side gets to shine through

Iceland is a bit of a linguistic nerd. He speaks multiple languages and likes studying them. He is active in preserving his own native language as well

Lifestyle

He goes by the human name Eiríkur Ingólfsson, but his nickname is Eirí or Erik. Iceland doesn't know who his dad is, so he named himself after the supposed first settler of Iceland

Iceland is, of course, the youngest of the group and is in his early twenties. He was born in the late 9th century but developed very slowly throughout history. At the time of his independence, he was around 18 years old

Due to his job, Iceland finds it the most convenient to live in Reykjavík. To him, Reykjavík feels massive and busy, so he wouldn't mind living somewhere a bit more peaceful, like the Westfjords

He fears he has a heavy accent when speaking in English, but actually, he speaks the best out of all the Nordics due to his long historic connections to English-speaking countries. He also speaks Danish, and can therefore understand most Norwegian and Swedish. Other languages he has been exposed to throughout history are Gaelic, Latin, German, French, and Basque

Iceland is known for his weird customs and rituals, and he's still very superstitious. He believes in supernatural things and events, even when others might mock him for it. He, for example, believes in a lake monster (Lagarfljótsormurinn) and elves (Huldufólk)

Ice has his own secret spots where he likes to go hiking, swimming, and picking berries. He generally finds the tourist spots annoying and too crowded

He always carries chapstick with him and can't leave the house without at least one in his pocket

Ice loves the smell and taste of fresh coffee but can't handle caffeine. It just makes him more anxious and trembly. Thankfully there are decaffeinated options available nowadays

He enjoys soft, mellow music. Just a man and a guitar is enough. He has a long list of his favorite indie bands and artists

Iceland feeds and looks after birds, through which he has made adorable Puffin friends. They're curious and sociable animals, always cheering up his day

His favorite foods include traditional lamb or fish stews. Plokkfiskur with traditional Icelandic rye bread is also a classic. Maybe a bit hesitantly, he'll also admit that he does enjoy fermented shark, Hákarl, as a guilty pleasure. But quickly add that Pylsur are a classic Icelandic hotdogs everyone should try

Though he pretends to be super mature, he can't help but look forward to Fastelavn and most importantly, Bolludagur, every single year. And he drinks kókómjólk occasionally, to become stronger and not because chocolate milk tastes great

His house is hot because he is a bit sensitive to cold. When the other Nordics visit, they complain that his heater is turned all the way up

He likes celebrating national holidays, birthdays, and even little accomplishments. His favorite is the tradition of Sólarkaffi when the residents of a small village will come together for a coffee in the house where the first sun ray of the year lands

Iceland takes part in réttir every year on horseback! It's the annual roundup where people retrieve their sheep stock from the mountains and valleys. It’s a nationwide event, where people come together to play music, picnic outdoors, and help each other gather their sheep

Iceland, as a small remote country with no railway system, is used to traveling everywhere by car nowadays. At least if he needs to get out of Reykjavík

Iceland is a diva when it comes to sleeping. He needs block-out curtains, a warm room, no sounds, comfortable pajamas, and a soft cold pillow. Thus he dislikes sleepovers. He can get adjusted to anything once long enough time has passed, though he's definitely taking in all the luxuries of the modern age

Ice dresses up for practicality. It's better to bring too much clothing than too little, and you might catch him with a winter jacket well into the summer season. Back home, he's not too concerned with his style, but if he's visiting some other place or having guests over, he suddenly gets very conscious of what he'll wear. He fears that he dresses up too "old" at times, but instead, he gets a lot of praise for his clothes. He's probably so late on trends, that his clothes end up becoming fashionably vintage. Sweaters are his favorite, with a high-quality pair of outdoor pants and hiking boots

Relationships

Due to the far distances to the continent, Iceland often experiences loneliness. Iceland has spent most of his life alone or with his family, so he doesn't really have long-time friendships outside the Nordics. But he has a strong urge to make friends, preferably with other younger nations, as he's tired of being always treated like a child in his family. He tries his best to reach out to others, but his shyness occasionally hinders that. Due to his distance, Iceland doesn't travel as often as other Nations, and nowadays does most of his meetings online. Iceland takes his job very seriously and wants to prove his abilities. He's an active listener at meetings and follows the world news constantly. He hates fighting and isn't afraid to stand up against bullies. When he has a lot to say, he'll take the initiative (after trying to get others' attention for half an hour)

Denmark Iceland has a huge need to get away from Denmark and appear as independent as possible. Denmark has always acted like Iceland's guardian and still has difficulty trusting him with adult responsibilities. Ice thinks Denmark can take his role as a former guardian too seriously and fall back into the overprotectiveness he used to have. To Iceland, Den can appear very pigheaded and forgets Iceland has been independent for a while now and has his own culture and life. Den calls Iceland all the time and makes sure he's okay, which Iceland finds condescending. But, when Iceland needs "dad's help" with something, he's immediately calling Denmark in panic. Denmark can be pretty playful and teases Ice a lot (and bores him with dad jokes), but he's just proud of the kid and sees Ice as a brilliant young man. Den knows Iceland can be shy when trying things out of his comfort zone, so he pushes him to new situations for better and worse. The Copenhagen nightlife was more traumatizing than fun for reserved Ice, so now Denmark opts for simple board game nights at local Icelandic pubs with him. Ice gets self-conscious when visiting Denmark, fearing he will somehow embarrass himself with how he speaks or dresses up. In return, Denmark gets very defensive if someone is making Iceland feel uncomfortable (which Iceland sees as another form of overprotectiveness). But as long as Denmark doesn't come to tell him what to do, Iceland doesn't mind him. Growing up, Denmark was always the father figure young Iceland so desperately wanted. So he has to take Den's fatherliness, in both good and bad

Norway Norway has never been good at parenting or taking responsibility for others, so he has a lot of regrets concerning Iceland. He has always known Iceland is his brother but has never been able to connect with him. That doesn't mean he doesn't care about the kid; he absolutely does, but Nor just never found a way to claim that big brother status. Iceland can feel insecure with Norway - like he needs to prove himself and his capabilities to get his validation. He's afraid to ask for Norway's help in case he appears weak or Norway would somehow judge him (which he of course wouldn't). Norway's attempt to reclaim their lost bond is sometimes irritating to Iceland, even though he knows it shouldn't. He has lots of disappointing memories when it comes to his brother, which is the reason for his underlying insecurities. He fears Nor will abandon him once again On the other hand, Norway has always given Iceland the freedom Denmark never knew how to give. He took Iceland on long trips and taught him necessary life skills. Iceland adored Norway growing up, always choosing him over anyone else. He even got jealous if someone else took his brother's attention. When Iceland was nervous or unsure as a child, Norway would tell him fantastical stories and restore hope in him. Norway sees a lot of young himself in Iceland. He wants to make sure Ice has everything he needs and the tools to do better than he did in the past. Norway has difficulty putting his love in words, so he keeps buying Iceland stuff and asking if Ice has always got what he needs, which Iceland insists he has. Norway feels terrible that he wasn't there for Ice when he was still a small child. But Norway wouldn't have been much of a parental figure even if he had been with him. He still feels a sense of failure in this and tries to make it up for it nowadays. In order to build their relationship, they go camping and fishing together whenever possible. They tell stories and talk about the past. Iceland is fascinated by his roots, and Norway tries to help to the best of his abilities (but the fading memory isn't helping). They both have regrets and disappointments regarding their shared past, but they will always have that unique family bond no one can take away from them

Sweden While historically they have been pretty distant, Sweden has always worried about the kid and ensured that whatever dispute and fighting happens, it doesn't directly affect little innocent Ice. During Union times, Iceland was a bit scared of Sweden, but Sweden managed to get on Ice's good side with various toys he carved for him. Little Iceland occasionally guided practically blind Sweden around and told Denmark to stop bullying him. Iceland and Sweden have gotten closer during modern times, and Sweden usually takes the mentor role. Whenever Ice has a problem that he will definitely not bring up with Nor or Den, he'll go straight to Sweden. Iceland is always welcome at Swe's place, and Ice can always call for any troubles or issues he might have. Ice never says it out loud, but he does appreciate this. Sweden isn't pushy or obsessive about it but rather a trustworthy adult he can rely on. Sweden actually listens to him and offers some genuine advice as he trusts Iceland's ability to make decisions himself. Swe is always happy to see Ice, makes him his favorite foods, and offers him a room to stay. Ice can become a bit uneasy about this because he feels Sweden does so much for him and never expects anything back. He'll start working and cleaning around the place to show gratitude, and Sweden tries to stop him. Lately, Sweden has taken time to teach Iceland skills, like cooking, and they're slowly getting somewhere

Finland Finland and Iceland have the most distant relationship out of all the Nordics since they are on opposite sides of the region. Ice finds Fin cool, but even he can fall into parental-protection-mode like the rest of the Nordics. Finland is always lending a hand to Ice when needed. Iceland likes Moomins and asks Fin to bring him a new mug when he visits. On the other hand, Finland admires Icelandic nature and wants to try all the craziest activities (like having a barbeque on lava). Finland can relate to Iceland and bond over the fact that they're both considered strange within the family. They both have a morbid sense of humor, which the others sometimes find a bit concerning. During the union times, Finland was left out of discussions and decision-making, and he had to spend time working or taking care of the youngest members, like Iceland, probably bringing him along to work and taking care of chores. Care for animals is something that unites them both. Nowadays, they go camping occasionally, which is a lot of fun, and they always say they should hang out more often (but they never seem to have time to do so)

England Iceland doesn't have enemies, but he feels like he has always been England's target. In his eyes, England is a bully, and he doesn't respect Iceland (or many others, for that matter). England finds Iceland petty and immature, but he won't say it out loud; he has frightening big brothers after all. They have had many little disagreements throughout the ages. Little Iceland was known to be mischievous, and he would often prank England when he was visiting their house. The other Nordics found this hilarious but tried to stop Iceland before he could do any significant damage; they didn't want to embarrass their important ally, after all. The Cod Wars against the Brit were important for Iceland, even if others saw them as unnecessary. The victory offered a well-needed confidence boost and showed others Iceland was more than capable of taking care of himself

Ireland When it comes to other island nations, Iceland has nothing but nice words to say about them. They have all been very friendly and welcoming. Iceland is especially friendly with Ireland! Ireland and he share history, and Ice is fascinated by this. He might sometimes inquire Ireland and ask him questions about the past, which Ireland would gladly answer if he had much to offer. They both have harsh environments and rocky relationships with England, so they get along great on that front too

United States America is one of the few countries Iceland has historically interacted with. He was the first to recognize Iceland's independence and considers Iceland an ally he is always ready to support. Iceland isn't sure how it happened. Their relationship just started with young America claiming, "You're my friend now," and Iceland was too confused to say anything to that. America finds Iceland cool and shares a similar upbringing to him, though Iceland would disagree. Iceland is happy to know he has a strong ally like America, but he's not exactly sure what to think of him. America is an important business partner and someone who supports Iceland no matter what. But America has a very different status and lifestyle, and he can be oblivious to Iceland's life or problems, so their friendship is rather one-sided at times. Yet, they get along surprisingly well

Miscellaneous Iceland is a small nation that supports other small nations. He was among the first to recognize Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, Georgia, Armenia, and Azerbaijan from the USSR - also Croatia's and Montenegro's independence from Serbia. Significantly, Iceland was also the first Western state to recognize Palestine. His solidarity and recognition have given him a lot of praise among other small nations. They remember this by sending Iceland postcards and flowers occasionally, which Ice gets flustered by - He's just doing what he'd want others to do for him Iceland also feels a special connection to other younger nations, such as Seychelles, Latvia, and Hong Kong - and the South-East Asians, who have always welcomed him. Iceland has an easy time making friends and connections due to his friendly attitude. He's a well-connected Nordic, with strong diplomatic relationships that have over time turned into friendships. Ice might just stay a bit quiet and unnoticeable in a crowd. And he doesn't even seek any attention on himself. He's quite content with the way things are - he's just happy that he gets to finally do his own thing

And there it is, more or less copypasted from various sources haha. If you were wondering, no, I will never beat the insanity allegations because no sane person has this much to say about a fictional character. I adore Iceland, and it's always fun trying to find a balance between the awkward hotheaded teen and the well-read modest young man that he is. I was about to add my historic headcanons for him too, but maybe some other time, this is too much already

Next up is either Denmark or Sweden, let's see which one I finish first (and when)

[auncyen]

8 and 10! For Isat ask thingy!!

8. post-game things I'd like to see lmfao I mainly just want to see the trip that the whole fandom thinks happened BUT a few minor h/cs--

post-game his memory improves. It'll never be great if you compared it to someone else but they're pretty happy with it. It's a combo of Isabeau and Odile trying to help him find ways to better remember things and the group remembering some things for him and kind of easing that mental load. (I remember reading something once about how like. in longtime couples each person kind of specializes in remembering different kinds of things and can prompt each other to remember things relevant to a subject/event by bringing up what they remember and with Siffrin we do see like. some pretty old memories ARE there, they just need to be prompted and then not eaten by the Universe.) ...Also less anxiety.

The world rediscovers astronomy as Bonnie's generation and younger don't associate the subject with the Island. (way way far out obviously.)

If Siffrin settles down with Isabeau, their part of the living arrangement probably gets very cluttered at times with them wanting to keep TONS of things as souvenirs and no longer being limited to what they can carry--which might also lead to frustration at times if Siffrin does end up forgetting where he got something from. Isabeau's probably surprised by this at first and it might even cause conflict if Isabeau tends more toward "things should be organized and in their place", but they could probably figure out some sort of solution. (Maybe they add lots of "pockets" to Siffrin's side--aka a big cubby hole organizer where they can keep all those things on display. Siffrin tries to sort through it when it needs dusting to make sure he still cares about something and that helps reduce "I've forgotten what this is but I have it so it must be important" frustration. Still happens sometimes though.)

10. headcanons about the world--

already gave some of this away in fic but Poteria emphasizes "beauty" pretty heavily. They praise Muses of science and art (and yes, it's definitely borrowing from Greek mythology). Given the science bit it's not always about visual/sensory beauty but there is like. a general sense that what is pleasing is good. (This can at times lead to some messiness in dealing with what isn't pleasing.) Also not all Poterians do this but it's openly acceptable in Poteria to also worship gods/faiths from other countries, since the Muses are seen as like. Praise-worthy for helping them find enjoyment in life, but not omnipotent or anything like that. They're credited with very specific things and that's it.

Countries having varying attitudes toward Sadnesses and the people they spawn from, some very accepting and tolerant or helpful (Vaugarde very much on this end of the spectrum) and others having negative attitudes that pressure people to attempt to hide having a Sadness, which...definitely tends to do more harm than good. (I'm not 100% sure I want to use that attitude for the Island but it is kind of tempting to wonder if the journal is supposed to be understood as a cautionary tale because the clone who perfectly understands the writer's pain turned out to be "the first Sadness" or whatever. Similarly Sadnesses being seen as some sort of twisted, selfish wish, trying to force your own pain on others. ...Again, not very helpful for someone who actually has a Sadness!)

Sadnesses could have originated after the loss of color. This is just springboarding off how negative thinking is usually more a hindrance than a help nowadays but might have been important for an ancestor surviving in the distant past. The loss of colors would have been a huge loss of information, and probably still is (think plants/animals that you recognize as poisonous to eat by color for one easy 'could get you killed' example). This probably caused a lot of upheaval when it happened and you had a better chance of surviving if you were prone to being cautious. Societies eventually adjusted as well as they could but 'no color for u' probably had a huge effect on people's psyches so yeah. just tempting to think Sadnesses might not have even been a thing before that.

[fallenwhumpee]

A score to settle

• Masterlist •

Warnings: Presumed dead, grief, kidnapping, gagging, restrains.

Leader wished they had a button to turn off their thoughts. They wished they could silence the screams rolling that it was too late and this was all their fault.

Right Hand peeked in, their face also sour. They looked tired but not as much as Leader. Leader didn't know that, though. They refused to look at the mirror just because they didn't want to face themselves. They just assumed they were looking terrible, considering... everything.

"Any news?" They asked, hoarse. They hadn't talked for hours, being closed in their office and watching the cctvs around. Though they hadn't realised it had been this long. They were too focused, too fixed. A small break would do them good, they didn't want to miss anything because of their focus on bigger things rather than the details.

Right Hand shook their head. They looked like they were going to say something else for a moment, probably a remark about how Leader looked, but kept themselves. Good. Leader was in no mood for jokes. "But we got a call. Demanding you. It's an unknown number and pretty insistent."

Leader raised an eyebrow. "I'm too busy for that," they sighed after considering it for a short moment.

"No," Right Hand looked sure of something for the first time. "You're too obsessed with that. Leader, accept it... Youngest is..." They trailed off for a moment. "It's been a month. They would come back if they were..."

"I'm busy with searching them," Leader bit their tongue to restrain their frustration. "Youngest is strong. They are out there and—"

"Youngest was strong, I know, but that's enough. You have to move on."

"Don't tell me to move on when even you can't say it!" Leader lost the control of their voice. They breathed and softened their tone, knowing they weren't the only one grieving. It would be unfair to take the anger slowly building inside them out of Right Hand. "Yes, Youngest is probably dead." Leader swallowed. Admitting it made it too close to reality. They cleared their voice, forcing the knot in their throat down. "But I can't stop looking for them, even if only a corpse is waiting for me at the end."

"It's hurting you. I can see that. We all can see that. Leader... this can't go on. You haven't slept for days, and it's for nothing. We went through every single camera, every single place. The police went through everything. There's no trace of them. You won't find any too. Just... just accept that."

Leader looked down. They refused to listen to the reality of the words. They refused to believe Youngest disappeared overnight. Even if the alternative was haunting their day and night. "Fine," they sighed finally, standing up. Their body felt fragile at best, with how less they moved nowadays. Or it was because their vision wasn't so clear after staring at the screen for hours.

But the reason didn't matter. How they felt didn't matter too, as long as Youngest was out there, alone. Alive or dead. It didn't matter until Leader found them.

"Let's see what's all this fuss about, then."

Right Hand let out an unsatisfied grumble, but Leader could hear the grief under it.

Right Hand led them to the meeting room, the rest of the team already there.

"They're here." Right Hand said with a carefully schooled their voice.

"Good." A deep voice talked. It sent chills down to Leader's spine— the feeling was so foreign to them that it almost caused them to freeze. Their usual facade saved them. "Now, I have your dear Youngest."

"What?!" A shout escaped from someone. Leader thought of Medic, but it was actually Right Hand.

"Oh... don't get too excited," the voice chirped. And it disgusted Leader.

"Cut the show." Leader said sharply, to stop Right Hand and to get some end to this thing. They had no patience to deal with one more of those calls. They continued with the same tone. "I don't have much time. Looking for actual proof rather than mere words."

"What about this?"

A fabric shuffle sound came, and a weak squeak came, and it was enough to crush everyone in the room.

"Please—"

"My, my, that's not very nice first words to your team. I'm sure they missed you. Anyway, let's just keep you silent for now."

A muffled no was followed by a grunt and a fabric shift.

"Now, Leader, come and take your precious teammate. And come alone, we have a score to settle."

"Give me the time and location." Leader growled, ignoring the looks from the team. "And I hope you didn't touch Youngest. For your own sake," they muttered to themselves as they turned to the door. They would kill and die for their team, so they didn't really care if it was a trap. It would be worth it if Leader could bring Youngest to home.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

You Are My Queen Now | Part 9

Word Count: 24k (fuuuuuck)

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff

Summary: Growing up as a child of a minor lord, you had it instilled in you since a young age that you needed to find yourself a rich and affluent husband that would not only provide a comfortable life for you, but would also help further your family’s position in the court. So it was of the utmost importance that you remain a virgin in order to land such a coveted husband.

The problem lies when the man you secretly love, Prince Beomgyu, suddenly and unabashedly propositions you.

Warnings: extremely unhealthy relationship dynamics, really fucked up characters and their fucked up families, cunnilingus, fingering, dry humping, breeding kink, switch!oc, switch!gyu, cheating, drugging, brief thoughts of suicide, oc will be having romatic/sexual scenes with gyu and she and him will make justifications for that rape in the process. This is not me condoning what they’re saying or doing. I, as the writer, am of the opinion that rape is unforgivable under any circumstances. However, these are very fucked up characters and their love for each other is selfish and obviously not sane so don’t take their clearly fucked up logic to mean that rape is justifiable. 

A/N: Check out the playlist for the fic as well as the wonderful pinterest boards my lovely ♡ anon made for the fic. They’ll really help put you in the mood and contain hints for next chapters and even the ending.

The dagger and the ring lay on the bedside table in front of you, two gifts from two very different men–the two items signifying them so well and yet not at all. The ring is a gorgeous thing, delicate yet extravagant, offering so much promise it can’t possibly fulfill, while the dagger is sharp, dangerous yet protective, and so strangely beautiful. 

They both make such differing promises–Taehyun’s a fight for your life, for the chance to own it, a beauty forged in the fires of adversary, Beomgyu’s a deceptively easy, glamorous life that requires you to give up so much, to make the ultimate sacrifice. 

It’s an incredibly hard decision to make, but you’ve made it. And as you hear Taehyun coming out of the adjoining bathroom, you quickly put the ring away before he can see it. 

“What are you doing, angel?” He asks, and you look up at him to reply but suddenly jump back at the sight of him. In place of the piece of cloth he used to have covering his lost eye, now is a black enamel false eye that looks like it was ripped from the devil himself. 

“You don’t like it?” He hesitates when he sees your reaction. 

“No, it’s just…” You try to lie but can’t come up with anything, and he sighs. “I’m going to cover it up.”

He moves quickly to retrieve his eyepatch but, in his haste, ends up bumping into the desk it's laying on. That happens a lot nowadays, him slipping or bumping into things as he still hasn’t adjusted to the loss of his eye. It frustrates him a great deal and you hear him curse and pound his hand against the desk. 

Taehyun may have brushed the injury off at first so as not to alarm you, but now he’s feeling the effects of it accumulate and weigh on him heavily. Without his right eye, his depth perception has been greatly impaired and it impacts all aspects of his life–from navigating day to day activities, all the way to his combat and archery skills that have taken a huge hit. He's been suddenly thrust back years and he may never get back to his level before the injury again, and that makes him feel extremely vulnerable. He is a military man through and through. His whole personality revolved around how capable he is to protect himself and his people and now he might not be able to. His people are under great threat and he’s struggling to perform the most basic tasks, let alone have the skill to fight alongside them in a battle. 

You want to reassure him–tell him that if he practices enough, he can eventually learn to largely compensate for his lost eye, but you keep quiet because you know it will take tremendous time and effort to relearn things he used to excel at, and he wouldn’t need to if it weren’t for you.  A core aspect of his personality has been compromised, and you’re the reason behind it, and now you have the audacity to tell him it will be alright? No, you can’t so you just keep your mouth shut and let him handle it at his own pace. 

What you can do is attempt to ease his tensions a bit. How disgraceful would it be for you to show repulsion to the physical manifestation of his affection and efforts to please you? 

Quickly, you get up and walk towards him. “Come here.” 

You grab his hand and pull him towards you, murmuring to him, “Close your eyes.”

He gives you a confused look, hesitating for a bit before doing it. He already lost vision in one eye so it's tough for him to willingly close the other one. You rise up on your tiptoes and kiss both his eyelids softly then lean back to see his small smile in response. 

Even though you are so used to Beomgyu’s extremely expressive style of love that you can’t really appreciate Taehyun’s silent affection, the one thing that you’ve come to appreciate about it is that you don’t always have to find the perfect words to say what you mean. You can just express it physically and hope he understands. 

When he opens his eyes again, you force yourself to look directly into the mismatched orbs. It’s hard–not just because of how unsettling it looks, but because it’s hard to face him knowing what you’re about to do. 

He leans down to kiss you and you kiss him back, trying to calm him down even more, hoping that you can somehow take some of his anxiety away and hold it for a bit. But you become hesitant when the kiss grows more urgent and needy, and his intentions become clear as he starts tugging on your sleeping down. 

"Taehyun…" You protest, not wanting to do this now knowing what’s about to happen. But Taehyun holds onto you, gaze boring into yours.

"Please." He utters, the vulnerability seeming to be magnified in his one good eye. 

You haven’t given him an answer yet and that too is taking a huge toll on him. 

In his eyes, he has opened himself up to you, revealed his deepest weaknesses and worst fears, the things he tried so hard to keep hidden and protected behind a hard exterior, and yet you didn't accept him right away, didn’t lay your arms around him and shield the hurt he feels inside. For the first time ever, he allowed someone to gaze upon the worst parts of him and they hesitated, leaving him to feel exposed and weak. 

You know he must be struggling a lot right now, but he doesn’t say it. How could he when the one time he reached out he was left with no answer? 

So here he is seeking reassurance in the only way he safely knows how–using the only method that he is still sure of himself in, and you can’t really deny him that. It’s selfish and altruistic all at once, letting him feel that security for a few moments before you have to rip it away from him.

You kiss him again, silently giving him the permission to move forward, and he pushes the nightgown off your body before hoisting you up on the desk. 

He pulls back from the kiss to spit in his hand before propping your legs apart with his body and guiding his wet hand between them. 

"Taehyun…" You moan as he sinks his fingers into you, and your own hands go to free his cock from his pants, stroking him into hardness. It’s a frenzy of heated touches and unspoken pleas–him pleading you to choose him, you pleading him to forgive you. 

Before long, you’re both ready, and he wraps your legs around his waist and pushes into you, his mismatched eyes staring deep into your own as he takes you. 

You give him what he wants, that reassurance he's searching for as you meet his stare and moan out his name, letting him feel desired, enveloped, and he loses himself in you, his heavy breathing joining your moans as his high builds up. For a while, he feels in control again. He feels capable. He feels loved. 

But it all comes collapsing like a sandcastle hit by a wave when he reaches his orgasm and you push him away like you always do, forcing him to spend his seed on your thighs and showing him once again that he’s not welcome.  

He moves away from you like he’s been hit by the wave too, quickly tucking himself back in his pants and handing you back your nightgown. You slip it on, not bothering to clean his cum in favor of hopping off the desk and going to pour the both of you some wine to calm yourselves down and to finally put your plans into motion. You can’t stand this anymore 

It may have looked suspicious, how you randomly decided to have a drink right now, but it wasn’t random at all. In fact, Taehyun is used to you using alcohol to self-soothe by now. 

He dislikes that about you. He prefers to stay sober, wanting to always be sharp and focused, even when it’s painful to do so, and so he dislikes how you resort to alcohol to calm your nerves and dull your senses. He thinks of it as cowardly and weak, that you can’t face your own life and decisions and so you try to run away from them at the bottom of liquor bottles. 

Maybe he’s right about that. Maybe you’re not as strong as you thought you were. 

But he hasn’t said much about it recently, probably because he’s afraid that if he is tough on you now while you’re making your decision, that might push you back into Beomgyu’s arms. Which in of itself is something you have to reckon with. The old Taehyun wouldn’t have cared. He would’ve chastised you even if it pushed you away because that’s just how he is. He’s unapologetic and crude more often than not. Even his brand of love is tough love. But now he’s careful, scared. Is that better? Is an insecure Taehyun who is wavering on his morals, his very character, better than a harsh Taehyun who stands true to himself? 

You definitely need that drink. 

Your heart picks up speed with every passing second as you pour a drink for the both of you, discreetly pulling out the vial of powder you had stashed away near the wine. This is it. You’re doing this. 

You try to make up some small talk so you can distract yourself from your erratic heart as you slip the powder into his drink. 

“How does it feel?” You ask awkwardly, then add on when you realize that your vague question can mean many things. “The eye, I mean.” 

“Weird.” He replies absently, lost in his own thoughts. “It’s sort of like an itch but not. I am aware of it in a way I was never aware of my eye before.” 

“I’m sorry.” You grimace, turning around and walking towards him with the drinks. 

“I don't need your sorrys. I just need an answer." He says, cutting through the bullshit, and you swing your head back and a big gulp of your drink before handing him his own. 

He doesn't even protest, the tension reaching an all time high in him that even he needs the drink now. 

He snatches it from your hand, downing a big gulp of it too. It makes your heart ache for him. You’re going to ruin him beyond recognition if you stay. You’re not good for him. Yes, you helped him some. You showed him how to make more allies and solidify the ones he has. You made him see things from a point of view that he didn’t want to before. But at what cost? Half his court? His people? Himself? 

This unsure and insecure Taehyun is painful to see, and even if you stay and soothe his worries, he would always compare himself to Beomgyu even if he wins, even if he kills him. 

You sit next to him on the bed, and reach your free hand out to hold his, but he just stares down at it, not clasping it back. And after a while, he says, “I know you’re scared he would kill me. I mean… I hope that's the reason you're hesitating anyway." He mutters, taking another drink to chase the nagging doubt away. "But we have a real chance of winning. My people at the palace tell me that the nobles there aren’t very content with some of his recent actions.” 

You take your hand back, suddenly scared. Is Beomgyu encountering problems already? 

Seeing your confused expression, Taehyun elaborates, “Apparently he’s allowing peasants to train for positions that have only been exclusive to the nobles so far, professions like physicians, engineers, scientists… It’s not sitting right with the nobles.”

“Why would he do that?” You ask, perplexed. You know that Beomgyu has always helped the common folk, but this just seems so random.

Taehyun shrugs. “He claims that he’s met many brilliant peasants who would be very accomplished if their skills are honed, and he wants to provide them with that opportunity.”

Taehyun’s tone sounds derisive, as if he thinks the idea is stupid, and that confuses you even more.  “Well, isn’t that good?”

He snorts, confirming your suspicion. “In an ideal world, yes. But these esteemed professions are restricted to the nobles for a reason. They’ve had the best education and training since they were children, while these new recruits haven’t. You can’t just pluck a random person from the street and train them in one of the most important professions out there and think they’re going to measure up to those who have been training their entire lives for it.” 

“Then he can open schools for them. He already provided lessons to some of the common people before.” You argue, remembering the family you met when Beomgyu took you to the city streets.

“And provide entrance based on what? You think if everyone can be an engineer, that anyone would want to work the fields?” His reply annoys you. Surely Beomgyu has a system in mind to pick out the potential trainee. Besides, that’s not the point.  “So we shouldn’t provide them the opportunity to better themselves so we can keep them at our feet?”

“That’s not what I am saying.” Taehyun protests the meaning you’ve gleaned from his words. “You know I am not the type of man who hoards power and money from my people, but everyone is born into the role they have to play. If you start messing up with the order of things, everyone will start coveting the things that belong to others and society will descend into chaos. If you give the common people these positions now, they’re going to demand bigger and more important roles. They’re going to want positions in court, the temple, maybe the king’s council even, and the regular person just can’t be trusted to make such important decisions when they don’t have the proper background and understanding for it.”

“Maybe but I think the regular people should be represented in those positions, that way they can be the voice advocating for their peers instead of them getting trampled over by the rich and powerful.” 

“You think that when these people taste power they wouldn’t turn right around and act the same? The only difference is that they will not be controlled. I am not a fan of the upper echelon of society either, you know that, but there is a system to things around here–a trail of accountability that men and women of our standing are held to all their lives that the regular people aren’t. If you start allowing rouge elements to take charge, how are you going to maintain order?”

“So everyone should just stay where they are and not strive to move up? The peasants stay peasants and the nobles rule over them just by virtue of birthright?” You exclaim, and Taehyun shakes his head impatiently. “Not just birthright. I told you, we lead different lives. They toil in the fields while we get educated on how to rule. They hone the skills they require to lead their roles in society as do we. Just like I wouldn’t be able to forge my own sword like a blacksmith could, he can’t govern a city like I can.”

“If that’s what you think, then surely you think I am below being your wife and ruling beside you.” You say in disbelief, and realization finally dawns on him. He understands why you’re really upset. 

“Oh, angel. You’ve always underestimated yourself.” He chastises, grabbing your hand and giving the back of it a kiss. “You’re a highly educated lady. You grew up taking one of the most prestigious roles a woman can in society. Even if the other ladies looked down on you, you still received as good an education as a woman can get in this kingdom. You just needed to learn a few more skills to be able to rule by my side.”    

You take your hand away and stand up, pacing. “I was only allowed to reach that far because of Beomgyu. I wouldn’t have been fit for you if it wasn’t for him. Now he’s giving the less fortunate that same opportunity. I thought you of all people would support that. Don’t you stand for justice and equality?” 

Despite how it seemed to you initially, Beomgyu is the one who actually saw you for who you were rather than your rank. If you hadn’t been a lady in waiting, Taehyun may not have chosen you at all. 

“I do, but not all people are created equal. If I let my people govern themselves, everything is going to go to shit. You’ve seen my court. You’ve seen how emotional and paranoid and suggestable the common person can be. That’s exactly why I was against letting that old man be pardoned for killing his daughter’s killer. You can’t just let people do whatever they want. It sounds good and fair and lovely on paper but in reality, everything would come crumbling down soon enough. It’s my duty to do best by my people. It’s my duty to protect them, even from themselves. Sometimes it may not seem like it, but I am. My father trained me brutally for this job and I have trained Kai in return. You think you can just get someone off the street and have them do my job?”

You guess you shouldn’t be surprised that this is Taehyun’s reaction after all. He was always so harsh and strict on Kai, preparing him for a possible future where he might not be there to guide and protect him and he has to rule by himself. He has a very structured and narrow viewpoint of the world. He also has extremely high standards and won’t accept anything that would deviate even a little bit from them.

You thought that since he made an allowance for you, that he thinks differently. But you suppose you weren’t much of an exception yourself. After all, he did train you intensely too–going above and beyond to make sure you’re up to the job of just being his wife.

“I care about my people.” He starts again at your silence. “I care for them by not letting the other lords get away with any crimes they commit, and punishing them when they do, just like how I punish the poor. That is what real justice is, not that false king’s flowery sham that will inevitably come crashing down on him.” Taehyun says that last part spitefully, “You think when the nobles turn on him, his peasants will stand by him? No."

The thought of everyone turning on Beomgyu makes your heart clench painfully. You don’t know why he’s doing this, but you know he’s doing it for good. He has always cared about the well-being of his people. Educating them isn’t something new for him, this is just a bigger scale of what he was already doing. He may have done some messed up shit, but he doesn’t deserve for people to turn on him for this. 

You’ve quit pacing at the dreadful thought and Taehyun gets up to wrap his arms around you. “It will bite him in the ass, angel. I can assure you. He will be undone by his own actions, and I am not going to protect you if you’re standing right next to him when it all comes crashing down.”

You can’t listen to this anymore. You can’t hear him talk so happily about Beomgyu’s fall. 

Now is as good a time as any to enact the second part of your plan. “Then I guess I will have to be buried down in the rubble with him."

Taehyun’s eyes widen in shock while the rest of his face crumbles. "Is this because I'm not agreeing with you?” He asks angrily, but quickly tries to compose himself, his jaw clenching as he breathes through his nose. “I'm sorry." 

"Are you? What for?" You call him out on the absurd lie. He’s just saying anything to get you to stay at this point, just like he previously claimed that he loves you. He thinks it’s what you want but all you can hear is mockery.  

He can’t answer your question. He doesn’t have an answer because he’s just pretending. "I don't want you to lie to me, Taehyun. Your words are nothing if you don't actually mean them." You shout, frustrated.

"I am trying. I try to be nice. I try to buy you nice things. I lost my fucking eye for you. What more do you want me to do? Do you want me to be him?” He growls, starting to come undone under the pressure. “I am not him. I will never be him."

"I know. That's why I choose him.” You declare, putting as much conviction in your statement as possible so he’d believe it. “I want to go back to him. I love him." 

He’s at a loss for words for a while. You can see so many thoughts racing through his mind, trying to make sense of your sudden decision. "Are you doing this to protect me?" He asks at last, hope–a scared little spot gleaming wetly in his eye. He’s pleading with you to tell him that you’re not choosing Beomgyu over him, that you’re only saying this because you want to protect him from the war. 

It’s partly true. You want to protect him. You want to protect Beomgyu. You want to protect everyone, and if you stay, thousands will die. But you can’t tell him that because if you do, he will not let you go. It’s not in him to leave the drowning sailor behind. 

So you shake your head firmly. "I'm doing this to protect him. You want to kill him. I won’t let you." 

You have to be cruel. That's what you agreed on with them. You have to make him hate you.

"Am I a fucking joke to you?" And it seems to be working, the hope in his eye getting consumed by rage and betrayal. "You're choosing him over me? He’s deranged. He murdered his own family for fuck’s sake." 

“They deserved it!” You shout back, meaning it. “They treated him and the rest of the family like shit. They planned to sell Wonyoung off. They were horrible human beings.” 

“He still shouldn’t have killed them. They were his family. He should have–”

“What? He should’ve sat by like you did with your own father?” Maybe it was too low a blow, but you hated Beomgyu’s father for the way he treated you during your final months in the palace. He always made sure to remind you that you’re a whore despite Beomgyu’s constant reassurance–because of Beomgyu’s reassurances. He never wanted you to mistake it. You’d never be good enough for his son–the son he doesn’t even think is good enough for him, just that he was a valuable bargaining chip and he wasn’t going to lose it over a whore like you. 

“You think the little inconveniences he had with his father could even be compared to what my father did to me?” 

Little inconveniences? You and Beomgyu’s entire sense of self-worth is a little inconvenience to Taehyun? 

“And yet he was brave enough to take matters into his own hands and try to make the world better for his family and for everyone else.” 

“By killing some of them and threatening our family? By raping you?” He denounces disgustedly, “You have to be sick in the head to go back to him after what he did.” 

You look away at the reminder that you didn’t need, that you’re always actively trying to forget.  

Our family. Taehyun is your family and you’re abandoning him because of what he thinks is you choosing Beomgyu over him. It’s a horrid thought, especially after all that happened because of you, and you can’t blame him for losing it. It still shakes you to the core though, maybe because you know it’s true. You are sick because after everything, after what Beomgyu did to you, after Taehyun opened up to you… you still want Beomgyu. 

You stay quiet. You have nothing to say to that. 

It doesn’t matter. Taehyun has made up his own mind too. “I won’t let you leave.” He declares steadfastly, “You’re my wife. Take that however you want, but I can’t let you go now. I can’t and I won’t.” 

“I can’t give you the love you want, Taehyun. I can’t heal you when I’m sick myself.” You tell him in a small voice. “I want to be loved too and you will never be able to give me that.” 

“I am trying.” He says slowly, painfully. 

“Maybe that’s not good enough.” You mumble and he shakes his head in denial. "Good enough? If good enough is what he gave you then no, I never will be because it is sick. It's sick and selfish and obsessive." 

"Maybe but it's all I know." You confess sadly, "It's all I want." 

"If selfish is what you want then I can be that." He proclaims, “I won't let you leave. I gave you the chance to go and you chose to stay.”

“I didn’t know what I was choosing.” You tell him honestly. You really didn’t. You’re such a stupid, stupid girl. 

“You’re my wife now. If you leave and go to him… you’d be committing adultery.” He informs you somberly, and in that moment he is the fearful lord Taehyun again. 

You let out a laugh. “So what? You’ll imprison me? Kill me?” 

But he doesn’t find it funny. Neither do you. "I don't want to but I won't let you make a fool out of me."

"I thought you didn't care what people thought." 

"I'm still a man and you're my wife. What kind of impotent leader would I be if I let another man take my woman and bed her as he likes?" 

Your cheeks flame at that, and he notices, his one black eye seeing right through you. 

“You’d let him, wouldn’t you? Even though you’re my wife.” He denounces, pain and disgust apparent in his voice. "Did he even take you against your will at all?" 

"You know he did." You grit, tensing at the accusation. 

"Then maybe you liked it." He accuses coldly and you gasp. 

Maybe you haven’t been completely transparent with him about the nature of your relationship with Beomgyu prior to his wedding night, but for him to imply that you liked what happened to you just breaks you. You never thought Taehyun of all people would accuse you of that. He’s the only one who stood by you regarding this all this time. He never once doubted you about this before. So to have the only person who believed you now express his doubt is crushing. 

But Taehyun is seeing black at the moment, and he’s not backing down. You’ve finally done it. You’ve broken him and he will take you down with him. 

He advances on you and you walk backwards, scared of the dark look he regards you with. "Why else would you be running back to him? I'm offering you power and dignity and yet you'd rather turn me away and run to his bed. Maybe you do like being his slut."

Your hand goes up to slap him and he raises his own hand to stop you, but because of his lack of coordination, he miscalculates and you’re able to strike him across the face. Enraged, he grabs you and slams you against the wall, snuffing the breath out of your lungs. 

You look at him with fear in your eyes. You’ve accidentally hit him where it hurts. Still, you try to remain steady. "Taehyun, I know you're hurt but you can’t say these things to me."

"Don't patronize me. It was my fucking mistake for giving you too much leeway that you now think you can do this, but I won't keep making exceptions for you." He says darkly, eyes alight with fury. "You either choose to be my wife or be prosecuted for being his slut."

You shake in his hands. You don’t want to go on with the plan anymore. You can't stand seeing the hate in his eyes. You can't bear to see him treat you like a slut too. 

“I c–can’t stay, Taehyun. I have to… I can’t–” You blubber weakly, pathetically, and it takes Taehyun a moment to register your words. 

“Fuck, are you doing this to stop the war? I told you I can take him down. Just fucking tell me the truth. Do you want to leave because you want him or because you want to protect everyone?” He interrogates you, wild eyes searching for the truth. 

You try to respond but your tears blur your vision and you don’t know if you should confess the truth and risk him not letting you go or remain silent and have him think the worst of you. 

"Fuck, angel. Stop playing with me.” He curses, shaking you weakly. “Tell me which is the truth? Are you only saying this now because you’re scared of me… or were you lying this whole time, damn it! Tell… me what is–”

The break in his voice is subtle at first, just a note of hesitation, but then the words turn unsure and slow, as if he is struggling to bring them to mind, to mouth them, and then he stops completely, abruptly, leaning heavily on you as his body weakens, and giving you a confused look. But there is also a glistening of fear in his eyes. He doesn’t understand what’s happening, and it scares him. 

“What’s happening to me?” He groggily seeks the answer from you and you try to get yourself together for him. You have to be strong now. 

“It’s okay, Taehyun.” You murmur to him, trying to support his weight. “Let’s get you to bed.”

But that just scares him more, and he fights you. “Why are you–” Realization hits him in the middle of his sentence and he grabs onto you harder, eyes fighting to not let the sleep overtake them. 

"What have you done?"  

"It’s okay, Taehyun." You repeat, trying to calm him down but the guilt is ripping you apart. “Everything is going to be okay.” 

"You can't do this!" He tries to shout, feeling angry and betrayed, but his voice is quiet and slurred now. You can feel him fighting to stay awake in the way he’s clutching onto you. 

"Just relax." You whisper, trying not to cry again, but Taehyun refuses to give in. He opens his mouth to call for the guards, but he only manages to call out once before you clamp a hand over his mouth. Normally, he would’ve easily fought you off but with how quickly the sleeping potion is kicking in, you manage to keep your hand covering his mouth. 

"I'm sorry." You whisper, wincing at the way his eyes are glaring at you. “I’ve made my choice. I love you, but please don’t come after me.”

He tries to shake his head but his movements are groggy and his eyes are fluttering shut. 

“I’m sorry.” You say one last time before his eyes completely close and his body loses tone, slumping to the floor and taking you down with him. 

Once he’s out, you let your sobs explode as you look at the way his face is still twisted despite the sedative you’ve given him. His brows are a little furrowed and there is a small grimace on his face as if he’s dreaming up something unpleasant. You wonder if he’s still fighting you in his dreams. 

So in an effort to make him more comfortable, you try to pull him up to the bed. It takes a great deal of effort on your part but you eventually manage to get him on top of it, pulling the covers over him and resting his head comfortably on the pillow. 

Yet his body still jerks and his lips move as if he’s arguing with someone in his sleep. 

“I’m sorry, darling.” You sob, not knowing what to do, yet feeling like you should be doing something to make this a little easier on him. “Just let me go.” 

You run your thumb over the furrowed skin between his eyebrows, smoothening it, and your touch seems to calm him a bit. So you pull up the covers and scoot under them, molding your body to his and laying there with him to soothe him, and to savor your last moments together. 

To the outside world, this might look like any other night, with you pressed up against the warm, solid body of your husband, his arms encompassing you as his breathing flows in and out, comforting. But it’s not any other night. It’s the last night. You won’t be allowed to see him again, to touch him, to love him. You don’t know what Beomgyu has in store for you, but you’re sure you’ll never be allowed to lay eyes on Taehyun again. With that harrowing thought in mind, you press yourself even closer to him, nuzzling your face into his chest and crying your grief out. 

“I love you.” You sob straight against his heart, your lips feeling the beat of it through his chest. You wonder if he could’ve learned to love you had he been allowed to or if he never would have. If you would’ve been doomed to love a man who kept trying but could never give you what you really want–the both of you living an incomplete life, struggling to fit a mold of what the other needs and never achieving it. 

This is a mercy, for the both of you. 

_______________________________________

When Kai comes around later as planned, he finds you still wrapped around Taehyun’s unconscious form.

You catch a glimpse of pity in his eyes when he sees how miserable you are, but it quickly disappears when you inform him that you may have botched the plan. 

“Can you just tell him that I didn’t mean it?” You try to appeal to the infuriated Kai. “That I just don’t want anyone to get hurt?” 

“No one to get hurt?” Kai repeats haughtily, “Yeah, no one besides my brother and the army of men he will lead to their death to try and get you back. We fucking agreed on the plan for a reason. He has to think that you left him because you chose Beomgyu. He has to hate you so he won't come after you.” 

“I know but it might not work. He got very angry and threatened to punish me for adultery. I think he will come after me anyway. He’s not backing down. He really wants to kill Beomgyu.” You stare at Kai unblinkingly so you wouldn’t see the betrayal on Taehyun’s face that was now imprinted on the back of your eyelids.  

"He was just shocked. Once you get back to Beomgyu, the other lords will push for him to let you go and he will have to listen to them. He can’t fucking fight Beomgyu all on his own.” 

“But–” You try again. 

“You just can’t stop being selfish, can you?” Kai spits angrily. “You can’t handle him knowing the truth, that the only reason you’re going back is so you can save your lover. All this time, you were hesitant to go back even though thousands of people’s lives were on the line. It’s only when Taehyun told you that he plans to kill Beomgyu that you suddenly changed your mind. Taehyun deserves to know this. He deserves to be protected from you.”  

You flinch at the accusation, and you try not to think about it for long. You’re afraid it might be true. 

"I never meant to hurt him." You cry despondently. 

"But you did, and he lets you. That’s why I have to be the one to step in and protect him again."

"Again?" You ask, confused. When has Kai ever protected Taehyun? It was always the other way around.

Kai can clearly see the question in your eyes and he huffs out a laugh. "Everyone thinks that only Taehyun has been protecting me all this time, but I have secretly been doing the same… our father didn't just drop dead. Someone had to nudge him along." 

“You… killed him?” You ask, incredulous, and he nods proudly. “But how? If he was killed, then how come no one suspected it?” 

"They did, but poison isn't always detectable if you don't know what you're looking for." He explains with a conspiratorial tone. "My father may have been feared but he wasn't well liked. He was cruel to everyone, not just us, and so no one cared much to investigate his death. Good riddance, they must’ve thought, and they brushed it aside and focused on the new lord, trying to get on Taehyun's good side. At least for a while. I suppose that's where the rumors about Taehyun killing father came from. They just got the wrong son." 

"Does Taehyun know?" You breathe out in shock. 

"I don't know.” Kai shrugs, “Maybe on some level. But for all his morals, he can be blind when he wants to be. He doesn’t want to see the signs that I'm the one who poisoned father, just like he refuses to see that you weren't exactly the unwilling participant in Beomgyu’s deal like you want us to believe." 

You flinch at his words that parroted his older brother’s. Was Kai whispering in Taehyun’s ears? Is that why he said what he said to you earlier? Did Kai find out about you and Beomgyu’s agreement and then told Taehyun about it? 

“Beomgyu isolated me from everyone outside the palace. He stopped other men from approaching me. I never would have–” You try to defend yourself but Kai wasn’t interested in hearing it. 

“But none of that meant that you had to give your body to him.” He says and your mouth slams shut in shame. “You can do what you want with your body. It doesn’t matter to me, but do you think it wouldn’t matter to Taehyun? To know that you sold your body to Beomgyu so he would give you those dresses and jewels you like so much?” 

You look away, tears stinging your eyes. He’s right. You didn’t have to do it, but you were so lonely and Beomgyu was the man you loved. You wanted to be with him and you didn’t think anyone else would want you after all these years. And yeah, maybe it was nice having pretty things to own when you were so miserable. But you don’t say that to Kai. It wouldn’t make a difference anyway. 

He lets out a sigh, and you think you can hear an undertone of regret in it. “Look, I don’t dislike you, believe it or not. In fact, I used to like you a lot. I never faked that, and we would’ve been amazing friends if none of this happened, but I have to protect my family and you’re not exactly guiltless in all of this. So I need you to leave here and never come back.” 

Your shoulders slump heavily as the final door closes in your face. You have to accept your fate now. "Understood." 

_________________________

Kai helps maneuver you around the castle without Taehyun’s guards noticing, with the help of his own men. You covertly reach a nondescript wagon in one of the stables that would smuggle you and Wonyoung outside of the castle walls, abandoning Wonyoung’s own royal carriage in favor of discreteness, and so that it would be so much harder for Taehyun to track you down once he awakens. 

As you approach the wagon, you see a dressed down Wonyoung. She’s wearing peasant clothes that appear to be dirty. Her hair and most of her face is covered by a coif but you can see that she’s not wearing any makeup or jewelry. This is the most unkempt you’ve ever seen her but you can still see that she’s stunning when you get up close. Luckily though, from far away, she looks like a normal peasant girl. 

“Did you burn the letters?” She asks you as soon as you’re within hearing range, referring to the letters Beomgyu had sent you before your marriage. The letters could be incriminating if they fall into the wrong hands and so she advised you to burn them so they wouldn’t pose an issue for Beomgyu later on. 

You nod at her, and she smiles in relief, then gestures towards the stable. “Your clothes are inside. There is a servant there too who will help disguise you. I’ll be waiting out here for you.” 

You nod again, not trusting yourself to speak, and walk towards the stables, leaving Wonyoung and Kai behind. 

Inside is the servant girl, just like Wonyoung said she would be, and she helps you take off your robe and nightgown. You’re suddenly acutely away of Taehyun’s dried cum still on your thighs. You know she probably can’t see it but it’s an uncomfortable reminder of your betrayal to him.

So when she pulls out the dress you’re supposed to wear, you quickly grab it from her and slip it on, hiding your shame. She pauses for a moment, confused at your strange action, but she quickly snaps out of it and ties up the bodice of the shabby dress. When she’s done, she puts your hair up in a messy updo and puts your shoes on before sending you on your way.   

Walking back to Wonyoung, you see her and Kai engaged in a deep discussion, and as you approach she glances at you, prompting Kai to turn around too before he looks back to Wonyoung and, to your surprise, puts his hands on her shoulders. 

“Be safe.” You can hear him say, and Wonyoung grabs his hands and squeezes them, giving him a small smile before she takes them off of her shoulders. “You too.” 

They both pause for a second, a strange silence between them, before Wonyoung steps away and points you to the wagon. “Let’s go.” 

She gets on it and you follow suit. Kai’s gaze lingers on her for a few seconds longer before he gives the signal for the rider to start moving, and just like that you’re on your way back to Beomgyu, no battle, no blood, no warships, just a simple wagon under the cover of the night. 

You don’t dare speak a word or make a sound until you’ve made it outside the castle. Only then, only when you see the castle you fought so hard to run to, to earn the right to live alongside its lord–the lord who is currently knocked out following a betrayal by his wife and brother–growing smaller and smaller by the minute, do you finally speak up. 

“What was that back there?” You ask Wonyoung, and she feigns innocence. "What was what?" 

You roll your eyes. "You and Kai." 

You can see her blush even behind her coif. "Nothing." 

"You know this can't lead to any–"

"It's nothing.” She repeats firmly. “He and I just found common ground in our desire to prevent our dumb older brothers from going to war with each other."

It didn’t look like just that. You want to say but you keep your mouth shut. It's not your place to comment about someone else's doomed romance. You're currently living the cataclysmic downfall of yours. 

It’s going to be a long, rough road back to the capital, and you’re not about to alienate your only companion.

_________________

It's been a year since you last saw him and you missed him dreadfully. You’ve never been separated from him before, let alone for this long, and as he stands a few feet in front of you, your breathing gets ragged at just the sight of him.  

He looks lifeless–his body buffer strangely, but a grim look haunts his face. There are dark circles murking his usually pure beauty and the lines of his frown seem to have been carved there by time itself. He even chopped off his long locks that you’ve always loved and that made him look so princely. 

In contrast to how gloomy he looked, his clothes were intricately made, a bright white and baby blue. The stark difference is unsettling but he still looks like an angel, albeit a corrupted one. 

You, on the other hand, must look horrible, the long journey evident on you, making your already shabby attire look more haggard and filthy. It’s not what you imagined or hoped you’d look like when you met again. It absolutely shames you to stand looking like this in front of the ethereal prince. You wish he would’ve waited a bit, let you wash off and dress in something presentable before he came to see you– the irrational fear of him being disgusted by how you look and turning away from you makes your stomach churn. 

But you momentarily forget it when your eyes meet his for a second, your heart collapsing in on itself by the weight of all the emotions you've been repressing. Seeing him in front of you brings everything back and you can’t believe you even made it this long without him. He's like a drug you've been off for so long but now that you've gotten a whiff of it, you're shaking with the craving to overdose on him.

But you can’t. You need to hold back. He did a very bad thing and you can’t let him think that he's getting away with it. 

He'll come to you. He’s done all of this for you. In a second, he’ll be running towards you to take you into his arms and unite your souls once more. Finally, you’ll feel complete again. 

But he stays in place, not making a single move towards you, not even looking you in the eyes once. In fact, it’s Wonyoung who runs up to him to embrace him. He embraces her back–giving her a hug that should’ve been for you. 

They exchange words of greeting and queries about the other’s well being, voices bathed in relief at being reunited again–a moment that should’ve been yours. Why are you not in his arms yet? Why isn’t he fawning over you? You’ve been apart from him for a year! He’s sent you letters of despair and heartbreak. You had worried he’d hurt himself over missing you. And yet there he stands, engrossed in talking to his sister as if it’s any other day of the year. Were you the only one missing him? Was getting you back all just a power play on his part? Or did you really look so disgusting that he couldn’t bear to look at you? 

Suddenly, you want to run into the bathroom and not come out until you resemble your previous self again, and the longer you have to stand here looking like this, the closer you come to crying. 

But finally, he says something that takes you out of your stormy thoughts. "Wonnie, leave us."

And here he is. He's walking towards you and you can’t help the cloying look in your eyes despite your insecurity at how you currently look. You pretend to not be itching to melt into his embrace. You pretend like you feel any sort of shame at this moment. 

But he doesn’t embrace you. No, he grabs you and starts silently undoing the laces on your bodice, making your heart sink. Is he going to forcefully take you again? He won’t even attempt to sweet talk you before he does this? 

You stand there frozen with dread, but there is nothing you can do but let him take what he wants. You can’t afford to upset him now that you’re in his clutches. He has already won and there is nothing left to do but try to get him to not hurt Taehyun. You’re not going to fight him off anymore, no matter how his actions hack at your heart and force bile up your throat. 

As he pushes the dress off your shoulders, his fingers graze your skin. It's the most contact you've had with him so far and just that is enough to make you shiver. You hope he wouldn't notice but it's hard to miss the goosebumps erupting on your skin. 

When the dress falls to the floor, it makes a clanging sound that gives Beomgyu pause. With dismay, you realize you had forgotten the dagger in your pocket, and you start silently freaking out as you watch him bend down to pick up the dress and search it for the source of the sound. 

When he finds the dagger, he holds it up, analyzing it. "What the fuck is this?" 

You know he’s really asking why you have this. You don’t want to tell him that it’s a gift from Taehyun but you’re sure he can already tell by the engravings on it. So you just try to deflect. 

"It's mine." You try to take it from him but he quickly pulls it behind him. 

“Why do you have this?” He asks directly, and you chew on your lip. "It's a gift." 

"From him." He asserts. It's a statement, not a question. "Were you planning to stab me with it?" 

"No!" You gasp, horrified that he’d actually think you could hurt him. "How could you even think that? This is just for my own protection." 

"From what? You think I can’t protect you?" He asks indignantly. What comes out of your mouth next is a reflex, borne out of defensiveness, but it’s probably the worst thing you could’ve said at this moment.

"You didn't before." You mutter, referring to the beach incident, and his face immediately hardens. 

“Well, not anymore. No one will ever put a hand on you again.” He vows solemnly as he puts the dagger on his belt. You don’t know if that is a promise or a threat, but it doesn’t matter. You’re not planning to leave again anyway. There is no point. He has won. 

You just want your dagger back. It’s the only piece of Taehyun you’re ever going to have. More than that, it represents a part of you that was only allowed to exist for a brief period of time–a you that could maybe be more than just Beomgyu’s whore, and even that he wants to take from you. 

"Please, Beomgyu.” You plead, exposed in a way that was more than just your nakedness. “I'll be good. Just let me keep it." 

He shakes his head harshly. "You could hurt yourself with it. You could hurt someone." 

"I'm not a child.” You can’t help but bristle at the condescending comment. It’s just like Beomgyu to treat you like you’re incompetent. “I know how to use it." 

“I said no. You have no right to demand things from me anymore. You lost that right when you left me.” The sharpness of his voice reminds you of your precarious situation. You’re in no position to oppose him, and so you do the only thing you can at this point, shut down. 

You draw into yourself, and he seems to hesitate at that. You’re not looking at him but you know him–you can feel the uncertainty radiating off him. It’s the same uncertainty he treated you with after he took your virginity from you. 

“I’ll give you another one. I’ll make you one from pure gold and stud it with diamonds if you want.” He bargains. You know he hates taking things from you. He thrives on providing you with everything you could ever ask for, and taking something from you, something that you value, unsettles him. That’s why he always follows it up with an alternative. He tries to drown you in replacements, but just like your virginity, this isn’t something he can just replace. 

You put your arms around yourself. With the dagger in his possession, you feel completely helpless. 

You sense that he wants to say more but instead he just presses his lips together tightly and grabs your arms, removing them from your body. 

Is he still going to do this? Even after he took the dagger from you? 

Did he even take you against your will at all? 

You did this to yourself. You deserve this. You’re nothing but a whore.  

"What happened? What’s wrong?" Beomgyu calls out to you, and you realize you’re trembling.  

“Just do it.” You can’t look at him. You just shake your head and sniffle. “Just take me.” 

"No. No, fuck.” His voice comes alive with shock, followed by regret. “I just want to make sure you’re not hurt."

You look up at him in confusion. "Why would I be hurt?" 

He scoffs. "You spent a year away from me, with a monster like him." 

“Taehyun would never hurt me.” You answer readily, despite his recent threats, not realizing what you’d said until Beomgyu’s eyes flash up to yours with a dangerous glint. 

“Do not speak his name in my presence.” He warns, “No, do not even think his name to yourself.” 

“Okay.” You give in right away, trying to placate him. “Just don’t hurt him.” 

But that angers him even more. 

"Do you love him?" He accuses, finally maintaining eye contact with you for the first time since you came back, and this time you’re the one who looks away. But he doesn’t let you escape. He grabs your face roughly and turns it towards him. "Do you love him?"

You keep quiet, a strong sense of deja vu hitting you at this moment, but unlike Taehyun’s attempt to contain his reaction, Beomgyu is as forthcoming as ever, the hurt and anger clear as day on his face.

When you stay silent, he asks again, “Then how can you expect me to not hurt him?”

"You have me now. I'm yours. You can do whatever you want to me.” You implore, hands moving up his body as you attempt to convince him that there is no reason for him to hurt Taehyun anymore. “I won't reject you anymore. Just don’t hurt him."

You try to kiss him, hoping to take the edge off, knowing that he must be aching for it and would therefore get distracted from his current fury, but to your shock, he grabs your upper arms and keeps you at bay. 

“No.” He shoots you down. 

Silently, he goes about inspecting your body closely, scrutinizing every part of you, looking for the smallest sign of injury. It takes him some time, and he doesn’t leave any part of you unexamined, but eventually he steps back and lets out a sigh, satisfied that you’re unharmed. 

You try to wrap your arms around him then, your body aching to get close to him. He hasn’t made one attempt to hold you or embrace or kiss you ever since you got here, and that just makes you feel more anxious by the minute. There is something wrong. This isn’t the Beomgyu you remember. You know he’s angry at you, but no matter how angry he got before, he was never able to keep away from you so you don’t understand what is happening right now. Isn’t this what he wanted? To have you be his? You’re throwing yourself at him so why won’t he take you?  Does he not crave you anymore? Does he not love you?

Impossible. You would have felt it, right? He can’t just rip himself free from you without you noticing, right? You would have felt it in your soul. 

Yet here he is again, pushing you off him, the icy rejection stabbing you right in the heart.

“Let's take you to bathe." He announces coolly.

You don't know what's worse, the idea of him forcing himself on you again or him not wanting you anymore. You know they shouldn't be comparable. A normal person would look at you in disgust for even asking that question but you can’t help yourself. You've been starved for the love and affection that only he can give you for too long, the year you spent with Taehyun only serving to highlight to you how inextricable you are from Beomgyu. You’re addicted to him, addicted to him needing you. 

Before, you could afford acting all haughty, pulling back and punishing him for how much he hurt you, when he was all over you, beside himself with guilt and fear and the need to prove himself to you, but now that he's acting like he doesn't care anymore, your heart is gripped with icy panic. You want to throw yourself at him, shout and cry and ask him to explain what the hell is going on, demand that he snaps out of it, demand that he take you in his arms and kiss you and apologize until this horrible, unthinkable fear goes away–the fear that he no longer loves you.

You need to calm down. You can’t start catastrophizing things already. Maybe he just wants to wash Taehyun off of you, to bathe you and dress you up until he feels like you’re his princess again. Fine, you’ll let him do it. Then you’ll kiss him and he’ll melt and you’ll get him to stop hurting Taehyun. 

But another shock soon greets you when he doesn't try to bathe you himself like he did before. Instead, he sits on a stool in the bathroom and watches as the maids wash you off–scrubbing your skin harshly as if to get rid of the entire layer of your skin that houses the smells and stains of Taehyun and his castle. Only once your whole body is red and sore, do they pat you dry and lather your tender skin in perfumed oils, taking you back to the adjoining bedroom to dress you and do your hair and make up.

All the while Beomgyu watches you. You feel your skin blister under his gaze that focuses on the invisible marks from Taehyun on your skin. But he doesn’t say anything. 

Once you’re all made up and looking pretty again, looking like you more or less never left, you stand up to face him, anticipating him finally rushing to embrace you, to give you the affection you’ve been deprived of for so long. 

But he keeps away, the distance between you threatening to rip your universe apart. What is happening? Why is he doing this? 

____________________________

Like a ghostly presence of a dead lover, you accompany Beomgyu on his activities throughout the rest of the day upon his order. He acts vaguely aware of you but rarely addresses directly or looks your way, and as the day progresses, you feel less and less concrete, like you might just cease to exist from the world as your lover forgets you. 

You're not right back where you started. You're less than a whore to him now. 

Your first stop is the dining hall where you find the queen mother, Wonyoung and her ladies in waiting, and some of the lords from the royal council. 

“My condolences, my queen.” You bow deeply as you address Beomgyu’s mother, and she gives you a gracious smile. “Thank you, my dear. Things have been rather difficult on the children and I lately, what with the terrible tragedy and the subsequent whirlwind of grief and change we’ve been thrust into suddenly, so it’s nice to have a familiar face and an old friend of the family back. I hope you being here makes things a bit easier on Gyu and Wonnie.” 

She speaks to you like you’re actually welcomed and missed, like you matter to the well-being of the royal family. It’s such a strange thing. She’s never been unkind to you, but the way she’s treating you–it’s as if you were her son’s wife. 

Speaking of which, notably absent from the dining table is Ryujin, Beomgyu’s actual wife, but you know better than to ask about her in front of the servants and the other nobles in attendance. So you just quietly take your seat beside Wonyoung when prompted, and enjoy the food–the rich and sublime flavor of it hitting your taste buds with the euphoria of a man who had sworn off sweets getting his first bite of a cake in a long time. 

You eat until you’re full, and then you eat some more. You should probably feel ashamed about it–it’s not refined to eat so much and you can tell from the amused looks of Wonyoung, and the judgemental looks of the other ladies in waiting that other people have noticed it too. But you can’t find it in you to care when the food tastes so divine, and you’re gone without it for so long. 

After finishing breakfast, you join Beomgyu and his family in court where he now resides as the king. You stand on the sidelines while he, Wonyoung and their mother take their seats at the head of the room. But you’re not standing alone; you’re surrounded by the other ladies and flanked by guards that follow your every move now, presumably to prevent you from leaving the palace again either voluntarily or involuntarily. 

Unlike Taehyun, Beomgyu doesn’t deal much with the serious criminal cases such as murder, deferring them instead to the appropriate judges–a fact that spares him the backlash from the common people for dispensing the sentences himself, and puts him in the good graces of the lawmen for stepping aside and not infringing on their jobs. He mainly handles disputes and petitions that have reached a stalemate and his approach to them is very political. Instead of signaling out someone to be right or wrong, he tries to use his resources to figure out a solution that would leave both sides happy. Of course, he has to serve the occasional punishment or two, but he tries to sow the peace as much as possible, especially that these cases don’t usually involve an actual crime. 

It’s good political sense and needless to say, he is a lot more popular with the people and the nobles than Taehyun is.

He is also very charming in his mannerisms and speech, making the common people swoon over him who then, in turn, would return to their houses and their communities and sing praises of the kind king Beomgyu who helped them so. 

He seems to be doing better than you thought he would. Looking up at him on the throne, flanked by his mother and sister–you can’t help but feel both pride and inadequacy.  They look perfect, complete. He doesn’t need you anymore. 

You want to cry. You ruined it. You forced the only man who loved you to get over you. You want to leave. You want him to plunge the sword that lay at his hip into your heart and end you, for that is more merciful than what he’s doing. He’s slowly killing you right now. He moved on and left you behind. The only reason he has you here is so he can take revenge on you and Taehyun, punish you for abandoning him and punish Taehyun for taking what belonged to him. 

But maybe If you had paid a little more attention to him, if you weren’t so caught up in your own catastrophizing, you would’ve noticed how his smiles weren’t genuine–they weren’t your smiles–how distracted he was, how his eyes that were slightly swollen and red kept flickering towards you throughout the whole session.

________________________ 

When the last case is wrapped up, you and Wonyoung follow Beomgyu to the ranges to watch him train. 

He practices archery first. He was always good at it, but he seems to have gotten even better in your absence. And the way he throws a glance at you every time before he lines up his arrow before launching it seems meaningful to you. You have no doubt that he’s imagining it’s Taehyun he’s shooting at instead of the straw doll in the distance. The determination and rage you see in his eyes make you shiver every time. 

But as the archery practice draws to a close, you’re taken off guard when he walks towards you and hands you his bow. 

You look at him in confusion, not reaching out to take it from him, and so he explains irritably, “I heard you’ve become quite the archer, my lady.” 

My lady? He might’ve as well have stood you downrange and shot his arrows at you. Since when did he call you that? What happened to your name? What happened to baby? What happened to princess? You hated hearing him call you that because it always felt satirical, even if he didn't mean it that way, but right now you'd give anything to hear him call you the affectionate pet name again. 

But you’re stubborn and petty, and you cover up your pain with a frown. “I don’t use a longbow. It’s too big and hard for me to yield as a woman, a fact someone like you should’ve known.” You sneer, “Taehyun trained me to use a crossbow.”

The insinuation and the mention of Taehyun’s name make his face twist in resentment and he quickly turns around and barks at one of the nearby staff to bring out a crossbow. The person jumps into action right away and scurries to get the king what he wants, probably freaked out by the unwarranted aggression in his voice. 

When the man comes back with the crossbow, Beomgyu tears it out of his hands and thrusts it towards you. “Show me what he taught you.” 

You take the crossbow and walk to your spot with your head held high. You won’t let him intimidate you. You’re confident in the skills that Taehyun has taught you and that you worked so hard on. You’ll show him for all the time he made you feel inept. 

Cocking your weapon, you take aim, concentrating on your target before launching the arrow that hits it straight on. You launch several more arrows after, all hitting the target, to the surprise of the royal siblings. 

“How wonderful!” Wonyoung gasps and claps excitedly for you. “Did you see that, Beomgyu? She’s so good, isn’t she?”

He gives her a noncommittal grunt but she continues on, seemingly unaware of his annoyance. “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you two take turns shooting and we’ll see who is better. I bet she can beat you.” 

Nevermind. By the smirk on her face, it seems like she’s perfectly aware of her brother’s distaste and she’s consciously teasing him. 

“There is no time for that. I need to head to my sparring lessons.” Beomgyu replies gruffly, turning around without another word and walking off. 

You scoff at his small tantrum. Is he really so stubborn that he can’t even be happy for you for accomplishing something he didn’t think you could? You’ve always been interested in archery and he has always discouraged you from it, saying that it’s not suitable for a lady. But now you’ve learned it and are actually good at it and he won’t acknowledge it, why? Because you proved him wrong? Or because Taehyun was the one who taught you? 

“He’ll come around.” Wonyoung rolls her eyes, sensing your discontent. 

You want to appear nonchalant–like you don’t care, just like him, but you do. His callous treatment of you is unprecedented and it’s not something you can bear. “Why is he acting this way, Wonnie? Isn’t he happy that I’m back?” 

Doesn’t he love me anymore? 

“Oh, sweetling. He’s just—” 

“Wonyoung!” You hear Beomgyu shouting and you look in his direction to see him impatiently waving the both of you to follow him already. 

She sighs and gets up. “Come on, let’s not make him wait.”

____________________________

Beomgyu has never taken to sparring. He didn’t like the bruising and wounds that come with it, which is part of the reason his father always deemed him to be too soft. So seeing him now, throwing himself into it and viciously attacking his opponent, you almost don’t recognize him. Is this really the same Beomgyu who would pout at you when he got a cut and whine until you patched him up and kissed it better?

His opponent is just as fierce, and he gives Beomgyu back as much as he takes, which leads to many painful hits being landed on your prince. 

No, he’s not the prince anymore. And he’s not yours. 

Your sweaty fists clench at your dress as you watch the grueling fight, trying to stop yourself from launching out of your seat and rushing to protect Beomgyu every time he gets hit, and by the time the training session is over, you’re left feeling quite faint. 

Luckily, lunch is next on the schedule, and you regain a bit of your strength from the food. But you can’t taste the deliciousness of it much nor can you eat as much of it as before because your stomach still feels queasy from watching Beomgyu get pummeled as an exercise. 

After lunch, you separate from Beomgyu for the first time today–other than him leaving you to take a bath earlier while you and Wonyoung sipped on some tea in the garden before the meal–as Beomgyu heads to his private council meeting that you’re not allowed to attend, and so you have to accompany Wonyoung on her own schedule. 

You both want and detest this. You can’t wait to get away from Beomgyu because it hurts your soul to watch its other half sever itself off in the brutal way he’s doing, but you also don’t want to be away from him, the growing chasm between you compelling you to fall at his feet and beg him to make you whole again and displace the anguish that now resides in the empty space in your chest. 

But it’s not up to you anyway, and Beomgyu entrusts your care and watch to his sister, who takes you to her medical training. Apparently, following her father’s death and Beomgyu taking on the leadership, not only were some peasants allowed to train to become physicians, but some noble women were allowed to as well. 

As you walk to class, she chats to you about how she had decided to study medicine after her brother got attacked and she came to observe his treatment. She goes on to describe her training to you but you don’t listen after that. You just imagine Beomgyu in bed injured, with you none the wiser. Even if his wounds were due to his own schemes, you should’ve been there by his side. Instead, you were off, married to another man, leaving Beomgyu behind until he learned to heal from you. 

You were so distracted with your thoughts that you didn’t really watch where you’re going and you end up bumping into an unfamiliar man who is wearing the apprentice physician attire, just like Wonyoung. 

“I’m sorry, my lord. I was a bit distracted, forgive me.” You bow apologetically, but the man waves his hand in front of you, floundering, and bows himself. "Oh, I'm no lord, my lady. Please, don’t.” 

You stand up straight and give him a confused look, eyeing his clothes again, which he notices, and goes on to explain, “King Beomgyu has so graciously allowed common folk such as I am to be trained in the science of healing."

You don’t know why you didn’t connect the dots earlier, but it’s probably because of how surreal all of this is. Taehyun had already told you about the changes Beomgyu has made, but to actually come across it in real life is shocking. 

“It’s unheard of, I know, but that’s just our kind king.” The man says effortlessly, like he believes every word of it and you look at Wonyoung in amazement. She smiles at you and nods, taking you with her as she gathers her materials, and talks to you quietly, “Beomgyu has changed a lot of things around here. He is really ushering on a new age for our beloved kingdom.” She leans in to whisper the last part to you, “And a lot of it is for you.” 

“Me?” 

“Beomgyu wants to make it so people aren’t restricted by what they’re born into. He is introducing a new education system that accepts women and individuals of lower birth and teaches them the skills that would allow them to rise up in the ranks and take on elite posts.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard about that but why is he doing this?” What does he actually stand to gain from it?  

“He hopes that in the future there would be no rigid restrictions between men and women, first borns and second borns, nobles and lower classes, so that everyone could receive the same opportunities to prove themselves and potentially work their way up to the top. It’s a grand dream and it's on a very small scale right now. You can’t expect to introduce a radical hierarchy shift all at once or there will be chaos, and his vision probably won’t be fully realized during our lifetime.” She explains with a smile, but you still don’t get it. 

“That’s a wonderful dream, but what does that have to do with me?” 

“If people aren’t forced to abide by the constraints of the roles they are born into, they could be free to do whatever they want, pursue what they want, and be with whoever they want…”

Oh. 

Beomgyu doesn’t want others to suffer the same fate you and him have suffered. That’s… generous of him.  He always manages to amaze you with his kindness. You had seen his charitable nature in action back when he took you out into the city streets before but you thought that was the extent of it. You never imagined that he’d take it this far if given the opportunity. He really is wonderful… and terrible and mad. How could all these qualities exist in the same man? Are only the incredibly kind capable of being incredibly cruel? 

For the rest of the session, you silently observe Wonyoung and the other apprentices as they go through their class, being taught by a wild-haired looking man that seems to be the new chief of medicine. 

It takes you a bit of time to figure out why you recognize him, but eventually you do. He was a very prominent physician back in the day, very well respected and revered as something of a prodigy in the field. But he got onto the bad side of the king and some of the court officials. It was rumored that he was caught slipping some of the palace’s medicine reserves out. The official report stated that he was stealing them to sell them to the common folk later, but Wonyoung had confessed to you in confidence that she thinks he was only taking them to heal those too poor to afford the medication themselves and that’s why he was really stripped of his title and cast out. 

It looks like Beomgyu has restored him and even made him the new chief of medicine. That brings a smile to your face. The man–though he may seem a little off with his intense, piercing gaze and his frequently unkempt clothes, is obviously very passionate about helping people still. 

Wonyoung seems to be happy too. She listens to him attentively, as do the others, just how a student should listen to their mentor–with reverence and respect. 

From what you’re gathering, Beomgyu seems to be collaborating with this chief in order to educate a much larger batch of physicians–most of them nobles but some from quite humble backgrounds– and station them all throughout the city, and in the future the rest of the kingdom, to provide much needed medical care for those who never benefited from it before. 

You can hardly believe that such a thing is actually happening, and it makes you all the more hopeful that Beomgyu doesn’t receive any backlash from this. He is trying to help those who need it the most and he doesn’t deserve to be punished for it.  

Yes, you know Beomgyu’s dealings haven’t been blood free and he most likely doesn’t follow Taehyun’s strict definitions of right and wrong, but which lord or king can claim a clean slate? Even Taehyun’s hands aren’t free of blood. His morals are so black and white that it alienates a lot of people and frequently ends in pain and tragedy. Beomgyu may resort to shady political dealings but he seems to be accomplishing actual change.  If in the end Beomgyu’s ways benefit the kingdom as a whole while Taehyun’s sow resentment and discord, then which of them is really in the right? 

You don’t know but the people around you seem to be happy, and the city seems to be thriving. You can’t help but feel proud of Beomgyu. Now, if only you could’ve been a part of it…

_________________

When all the apprentices are dismissed, only you and Wonyoung stay behind as she’s busy gathering some supplies for a special project she’s working on. She unlocks a medicine cabinet guarded by a heavy lock, and browses its contents. 

“You seem to be much happier now princess.” You comment as you watch her handle some vials, inspecting them before putting them back inside. 

“Of course, I am. I’m free to do whatever I want and to pursue what I am actually interested in instead of just being a valuable piece of property that can be shipped off to the highest bidder.” She expresses freely, her tone in the last part sounding bitter, and you don’t miss her implication. 

“But they were your family–” 

“And I mourn them.” She cuts you off, not turning to face you. “But we have to move forward and make the best of our situation. And we are.” 

“Your mother is too?” You can’t help but ask despite her standoffish response. You just can’t imagine how her mother would be okay with all that has happened.  

She lets out a short laugh. “What about my mother? You think her marriage was any more successful that Beomgyu’s?” She asks sharply and you wince, looking down as you feel called out. “After she fulfilled her purpose of completing her own political marriage and giving my father his heirs, her role was over. The best she could’ve hoped for was to stand on the sidelines and not make any trouble for my father. But now under Beomgyu’s reign, she has more say than ever. He actually listens to her and considers her opinion as a queen in her own right.”

“And Yeonjun?” 

She sighs, slipping the vial she’s holding into her pocket before closing the cabinet and locking it up again. “He was no different than my father. He was practically raised by him anyway. Do you remember seeing him much as a kid?” She asks you and you shake your head. No. In fact, you rarely saw him, and when you did, he was always by his father’s side. “That’s because father forbade him from spending too much time with us or mother. He said it would be a bad influence on him to listen to our womanly wiles. And he practically considered Beomgyu a woman too since he was raised by mother.” 

“I see.” 

“This is for the best, for everyone. For us, for you, for the kingdom.” 

“And where do I fit into all of this?” You ask her, hoping you still have a place here even though Beomgyu’s actions seem to indicate otherwise. 

“Sweetling, you’re the trigger behind it all.” She walks towards you and holds your arms gently, “This may not have happened if not for you. Use it. Claim your own power. Isn’t that what you ran to that wretched murderer for?” 

Use what? What power? Beomgyu won’t even look at you. 

But once again, before you can talk further, Beomgyu’s voice cuts in. 

“Wonnie.” You hear him from behind you and Wonyoung lets you go and turns to him. So do you. “Gyu! How was the meeting?” 

“Boring as usual." He answers nonchalantly, but this time you can see the anxious glances he’s throwing at you. Could he be distressed because you were separated for a few hours? Is he experiencing the same pain you’re experiencing?

Then why doesn't he talk to you? Why doesn't he embrace you? This isn’t Taehyun, it's Beomgyu. He’s not one to hide his feelings from you so his behavior could only mean that there are no feelings to hide.

 "How was your lesson?” 

“Amazing!” She gushes, “We learned how to tell the gender of the baby a woman is carrying through her urine! Well, kind of…” 

You don’t listen to the rest of what she says. After all, you were present for the actual lesson. You just take the chance to stare at Beomgyu, seeing him smile and make little comments here and there as his sister excitedly recounts her lesson to him. 

You’re so focused on him that you notice it first… the little drop of blood falling from his nose. You immediately jump into action, rushing towards him and cupping his face. "You're bleeding!" You fuss over him. "I thought those stopped." 

Beomgyu used to get nose bleeds a lot when you first knew him as a kid but they gradually got better until they virtually stopped in his teens. So this resurgence was particularly concerning for you. Is this the first time this happened or has this been a regular occurrence while you weren’t here?

You try to figure out where the bleeding is coming from but for what must be the tenth time today, Beomgyu casts you away from him. He grabs your wrist and pushes you at a distance from his face. "It's fine. Wonyoung knows what to do." 

You stand there appalled, stricken, ruined as Wonyoung grabs a medicine soaked piece of cotton and plugs his nostril, staunching the bleeding. 

This should've been you. It's your spot beside him. You’re the one who should be taking care of him, but he replaced you just like that.  

"He's been getting them a lot since…" Wonyoung trails off. 

Since you left. Is that why he won’t let you help him? You always used to help him. He always ran to you when he got them. 

You have no role in his life anymore. He doesn't look to you like he used to. He has erased your influence from his life. You’re stupid to think that a prince–now the king, would have any remaining use for you. 

So you try to leave–you’re not needed anymore–turning around and walking towards the door to escape, when you're grabbed by arm and flung back around to face the man who used to be your other half. 

"Where are you going?" 

"I want to go back to my room." You don't know how you're not crying yet. 

"No. You still have to attend dinner." 

"I don't want to eat." You say simply, soullessly. You don’t have the desire to exist anymore. And just to stomp on your heart more, Beomgyu replies, "I don't care. You’re a lady and you have obligations. You're not going to get away with doing whatever the hell you want anymore."

__________________________

You have no appetite, the sick feeling you’ve had ever since he first rejected you has been gradually filling up your stomach until you can taste the bitterness of it in the back of your throat, and you know if you take even one bite, you’re going to throw up. 

Wonyoung notices that you haven’t touched your food and she tries to get you to eat something, but Beomgyu shuts her down harshly. 

“She’ll eat when she’s hungry.”

His response prompts a few whispers between the other ladies. This must be a shock to them too. Beomgyu used to be crazy about you. He used to do everything for you, so for him to be so aloof like this… is startling.

They seem to be happy about it though. Most of them never liked you as they thought of you as beneath them and that the only reason they had to tolerate you was because of Beomgyu. But now that even he treats you like this, they don’t have to pretend to like you anymore. 

You can see them whispering amongst themselves, not saying anything out loud, but you can tell they’re gossiping about you. You can also see Wonyoung’s concerned and pointed looks aimed at her brother, but he doesn’t seem to care. He doesn’t care about you anymore. 

‘You’ve ruined everything.’ You think to yourself as you stare at the knife in front of you. ‘You should end your pathetic existence. No one wants you. Beomgyu doesn’t love you anymore. Taehyun thinks you’re a slut. Kai thinks you’d be the cause of his brother’s death. You should just kill yourself and spare everyone the trouble of your existence.’

You wonder if you can slip the knife that sits in front of you without anyone noticing. You stare at it through the duration of dinner, just waiting for an opportunity to grab it without anyone noticing, but you don’t manage to do so. It’s the first thing that is taken from the table when the servants start to clear it up, and you wonder if the others had guessed your intentions.    

____________________________

After dinner, Wonyoung asks if you'd like to go for an evening stroll in the gardens with her. She’s clearly concerned by your abject look, but you tell her that you're too tired and you just want to go to sleep. Maybe back at your room, you’ll figure something out to end your suffering. 

She reluctantly accepts your obvious excuse and Beomgyu escorts you back to your room. You think he's just making sure you're not slipping off anywhere else, but when you reach your room, he enters with you and locks it behind him.

You watch in surprise as he walks to the wardrobe and picks out some nightwear and starts changing into it. 

Is he going to sleep here? 

Actually, from the neat pile of clothes that you glimpsed in the closet, it seems like he's been sleeping here for a while. 

You can't help but watch him as he undresses. He looks like he’s bulked up considerably, no longer the delicate boy he once used to be, especially not with the short hair and the bruises speckling his skin. It’s a physical testament to how much he has changed, how he’s no longer your Beomgyu. Still, he's as beautiful as ever and you long to go up to him and run your hands over his tanned skin, kissing every bruise and cut until they fade away and he returns to being yours. But you can’t. You’re not allowed to. 

"You look different." You tell him, not knowing what you expect him to say in response. To reassure you that he hasn’t changed? To tell you that even though he might look different, his heart still belongs to you? 

"So do you." He replies noncommittally, brushing you off. "Get dressed for bed." 

But you’re feeling stubborn and hurt. "I don’t want to sleep next to you."

"You're delusional if you think I'll let you sleep out of my sight after what you've done.” Beomgyu barks at you, seeming done with your shit already. “Now get changed." 

“No.” You refuse insolently. If he’s going to ignore you and then proceed to also not leave you alone then you’re going to make life as difficult for him as possible. 

‘Maybe that will get you some attention.’ A voice in your mind supplies and you do your best to ignore it. 

Beomgyu grunts in annoyance and goes to grab you a sleeping gown from the closet and pushes it towards you. "Get dressed." 

But you refuse to take it. "You want me to change? You do it." It's both a challenge and a wish. You want his hands on you again, even if just in passing. 

And Beomgyu doesn’t hesitate. 

He undresses you, once again faced with your nude body and you latch onto the little hints of need in his eyes and the way his hands shake as if he's finding it hard to hold back. When he gets to your stockings–your body completely nude otherwise–he has to get on his knees to take them off one by one. Once they’re off, he pauses, his hands holding the backs of your thighs tentatively. You feel his fingers twitch against your skin but he refuses to look up at you. You hold your breath, waiting for him to make a move, to kiss your body, caress your skin…

But he eventually gets up again, leaving you unkissed, uncaressed… 

He quickly dresses you. But unfortunately for him, the gown he puts on you turns out to be see-through, and he could still clearly see your nude body that seems to be even more alluringly highlighted by the soft candlelight. 

He gulps and looks away. "There. Let's go to bed." 

But you just stand there with your arms crossed, your barely covered breasts getting emphasized by the movement. You’ve gotten him to react–even if it’s only with your body–and you won’t let this opportunity pass. You can pull him in again. 

"Such a spoiled brat." He curses and you gasp at the familiar name. It shouldn’t arouse something in you but it does. You just miss any sign of your Beomgyu.  

He grabs you and carries you in his arms like a groom carries his bride. You yelp at the sudden action, and wrap your arms around his neck, the two of you exchanging a heated glance at the sudden closeness. 

But then he puts you down on the bed and goes to the other side to slip next to you but keeping his distance from you, not taking you in his arms like you yearned for and leaving you lonely and unembraced. You have to wrap your own arms around your chest to keep the contents of it from  spilling all over, and you just lay there and stare at him.

Why is he doing this? You’re all alone. No one can see you. He can stop pretending now if that's what he's doing. Because if he's not pretending then why the fuck is he sleeping in the same bed as you? Why wouldn't he just post guards in and out of your room to make sure you won't escape and go sleep in his own room?

It doesn’t make sense for him to be here unless he wants to be with you so why is he still keeping a distance? Is he mocking you? Playing with you? Does he realize just how close you are to breaking apart and he wants to be there to see it? 

Well, you’ll give it to him. He earned it. 

As soon as you start crying, he immediately opens his eyes and dares to ask the condescending question, "Why are you crying?" 

"Why are you acting this way?” You whimper pitifully, “I’m back after a year of being apart from you and you’re acting like you don’t even care. You're supposed to be all over me."

You know sound incredibly bratty and entitled. You can tell by the anger on his face, but you don’t care. He forced you to come back. He begged and threatened until you did, and for what? So he could ignore you? 

"I used to be all over you but you didn't like it. You’re the one who pushed me away.” He grits out resentfully, “So now you need to feel what you made me feel."

What you made him feel? Is he doing this just to spite you? To get back at you? And if so, how long is he planning to keep this up? Because you already can't take it anymore. Maybe that makes you a hypocrite but having Beomgyu be within arm's reach after spending so much time apart and yet not having him make up for it by latching onto you and stubbornly refusing to let you go again is too dreadful for you to bear. You feel like your body might just crumble and disintegrate if he doesn’t hold you at this very moment. 

As if hearing your thoughts, or maybe feelings exactly how you feel, he scurries quickly to you and takes you in his arms, rocking you back and forth to try to get you to stop crying. 

"Fuck, you know I can't handle seeing you cry." He laments, leaning down to press apologetic kisses all over your face as you whimper and sniffle. “You’re such a spoiled brat.”

You whine. "Don't you love me anymore?" 

"Don't do that–" He groans weakly, "I'm supposed to be angry. I am angry. You’re being punished–"

You cut him off with a kiss, and for the first time since you got here, he lets you, immediately losing all the fight in him. As your lips and tongues meet, desperately seeking reassurance from the other, you sense your feelings mirrored in him and you wonder how you did not see it before? Of course he’s just as pitiful as you. Of course he missed you as much. Of course it killed him to hold back.  

“You’re so spoiled. I hate that I could never say no to you.” He whines helplessly against your lips, and you pull back to look into his pretty puppy eyes.

"Do you still love me?" You ask like your entire life depends on it. 

"Of course I love you. I will always love you, even when I'm old and gray, even when they put my body in the ground, even when I stand in front of the gods and have to answer for the crimes I committed for love." He confesses confidently. "I was supposed to keep my distance. I was supposed to teach you a lesson. But I couldn’t even last a day. That's how much I love you."

His words reassure you immensely. It’s everything you’ve been hoping to hear. But suddenly he starts crying too and you panic. 

“What is it, baby?” 

Through big, heavy tears, he moans, “I couldn’t hold off a day and you left me for a year. How could you do that to me? You must not love me as much as I love you.” 

“No, baby, no!” You coo softly, despicable euphoria bubbling in your chest at the sight of him crying in need for you again. He still needs you. He still loves you. You can exist again. “I love you so much. I thought about you every day but I forced myself to be strong, to stay away. But seeing you today and thinking you were over me, god I wanted to kill myself.”

"No. You can’t. You can’t leave me. If you die, I die." He tells you frantically, lips wobbling as he tries to hold in his tears, his big watery eyes looking up at you for reassurance, for you to deny that you would ever leave him again.

"I won't, baby. I'm here to stay." And you are. For better or for worse, you are his and he is yours. 

You kiss him repeatedly, whispering 'I love you' again and again until you’re sure the words are now tattooed on both your lips. 

Unlike Taehyun, Beomgyu doesn’t hold back in showing his need for you. You can tell how much he wants you by his moans and pants against your lips, they way his hands touch all over your body feverishly. And you want him to. You want to give yourself to him completely. You’re tired of fighting against it. You just want him to take you and take care of you. 

But a nagging voice in your head won’t let you enjoy this–

You have to be sick in the head to go back to him after what he’s done. 

Taehyun’s voice rings in your ear. 

You liked it didn’t you?

No, you didn’t like it. It killed you. You never thought Beomgyu would be capable of hurting you like that. But you love him. May the gods have mercy on your soul, but you love him. It's always been him. 

But you’re also scared of him. Would he do it again? He told you last time that he only did it because he was angry and scared of losing you. Would he do it now because he’s angry and needy after you left him? If you tell him no, would he stop or would he force you? 

Your body goes stiff at the thought, and once again he registers the change in you and pulls back, noticing the fear in your eyes and immediately realizing what's wrong. 

"Don't worry, I'm not going to… force you." He reassures you, wincing. “I won’t hurt you ever again. I promise. I will prove it to you, princess.”

He goes to pull back then, but you grab onto him. He won’t hurt you. He won’t hurt you. 

"Do it. I want you."

You want to replace your horrible memories with good ones. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes. Make me forget what you did to me." 

He stares at you with his big, pretty eyes, seeking out any hint of hesitation in you, but there is none. You want to forget. You want him to consume you. 

With a curse on his lips, he hurriedly takes off your flimsy gown, hardly believing that he's really getting you. But once you're naked in front of him, he pauses to stare at your body, the way he couldn’t earlier. 

You stay quiet, observing the lust and awe in his eyes before he slowly reaches out and runs his fingers along your breasts, only circling them. The circles get smaller and smaller each time, slowly but surely driving you insane, and by the time his fingers finally brush over your nipples, you jerk at the touch. 

“Beomgyu, I need more. What are you doing?” You question him impatiently, but he shushes you with a kiss. “Just want to savor this moment, princess. I’ve been waiting for so long.” 

You know what he means. Despite all the sexual encounters you’ve had together, this is one of a kind. He never had the opportunity to take you in like this, to have you offer yourself to him so completely.  

Capitalizing on the sensitivity he has created, Beomgyu cups your breasts and flicks his index fingers ever so lightly back and forth across your nipples, making you jerk up again and rub your thighs together, looking for any kind of stimulation more than the maddening one Beomgyu is giving you. But when he sees that, he grabs your thighs and pulls them apart, revealing the wetness gathered between them already. 

“Fuck, princess… are you that sensitive?” He asks as if you can’t see his own need straining against his pants. 

“I missed you, Beomgyu.” You explain yourself, whining needily. “Please do something, puppy.” 

“I will, but keep your legs open, princess.” He orders, bending down to wrap his lips around one of your nipples, the heat and wetness of his mouth immediately lighting your body on fire. He sucks on it before pulling back and letting it pop out of his mouth. He hums appreciatively before leaning in and repeating the same motion a few times while his hand goes up to the other breast and he starts flicking his finger over the nipple again. 

When you mewl and arch into his touch, you inadvertently push your leg between his thighs and press it against his hard member. And as he moans out, the vibrations heightening your pleasure even more, you get an idea. You start moving your thigh, rubbing it against his cock. 

For a few moments he lets you, his moans coming out even more as he licks and sucks at your breast needily, bringing you so much pleasure that you honestly think you could cum like this. 

But then he abruptly stops, pulling away from your chest and pushing your leg down against the bed again. 

“No, princess. No touching me.” He pants, his pupils dilated and his face flushed with such need that you honestly don’t understand why he would ask that of you. 

“Why?” 

“Remember when I would beg to touch you and you’d always refuse?” He asks, reminding you how when you had your deal going on, you were the only one allowed to touch him while he had to keep his hands to himself. 

“You can’t be serious.” You huff indignantly. What, so he’s not going to let you touch him at all?

“Oh, I am, princess. I told you I want to make you feel exactly how you made me feel. I already gave in too quickly on one thing, but I won’t back down on this.” 

You scoff, “So you’re just not going to let me touch you at all? Is that a punishment for me or for you?” 

“We’ll find out.” 

“Fine. Let’s see how long you keep this up, puppy.” You challenge insolently, not appreciating the idea of Beomgyu holding back from you, and hoping he’d fail in this too just as quickly.  

But your attitude doesn’t last long when he goes back to playing with your tits. Once again, you try to rub your legs together, but his body is in the way, so you have to resort to begging him for more. 

“Beomgyu, please.” 

“What is it, princess?” He asks, but he obviously knows what you want because he lets one hand go between your legs to caress your inner thighs, but doesn’t touch where you really need him. 

“Need to cum.” 

“Hmm, you do?” He acts oblivious again, running his middle finger between your wet, puffy lips. "Whose are you?" 

"Yours." You reply right away. "I'm yours, Beomgyu. Please."

You hope he’s convinced. You hope he’ll give you what you want. You hope he’ll spare Taehyun. Fuck, if Taehyun saw you like this–

“Good princess.” Beomgyu purrs, cutting off your train of thought as he does down your body to your pussy. 

"Fuck, this pussy.” He groans, his fingers moving up and down your slit. “I've spent many nights fantasizing about it, princess. You don’t even know. Had nothing but my hands and thoughts of this pussy.”

You know that Beomgyu used to touch himself while thinking of you. He confessed it to you at the very start of your deal but the thought of it still makes your body buzz in excitement. To think that you had the prince completely infatuated with you that he would lie in his bed, his only company being his own lewd thoughts about you, as he touched himself just makes you feel so powerful. He is so crazy for you, your darling king, and his next words confirm it. 

“So many would’ve died for this pussy." He murmurs, spreading your lips apart and pushing his face in to lick several long stripes along your pussy. He would do insane things for you. It’s sick how much that turns you on, but you can be sick around him. He won’t judge you.

He won’t hurt you again. He won’t hurt you. He promised. 

He flicks your clit with his tongue in short practiced motions that make you whimper. He looks up at you, grinning and goes back to the slow drags of his tongue over your slit, messing with you. 

“Beomgyu.” You whine, arching your back and pushing your pussy closer to his mouth. 

“Need it, princess?” He teases, wrapping his lips around your clit and giving it a teasing suck. 

“Ah-hh–yes–” You squirm under him, begging him to stop torturing you. 

But Beomgyu is enjoying it too much. He keeps eye contact with you as he alternates between rapid and slow strokes of his tongue. Every time you start building some sort of high, he slows down again until your whimpers of need are filling the room. 

Begging him obviously won’t work so you have to resort to teasing him back. 

“Make me cum, please, baby.” You purr breathlessly, one hand grabbing your breast while the other goes to your mouth where you place one of the fingers seductively. “Your princess wants to cum on your pretty face.” 

“Such a dirty princess.” He mutters but you know you got to him. You know he’s been dreaming about this for years, and it’s so easy to play into his fantasy. 

His actions turn focused and serious. He dives in again, swiping his tongue over your twitching hole a couple of times before burying it inside. It’s a new feeling, the sensation of his hot tongue pushing in and out of your pussy. It can’t go far in but the entrance of your pussy is sensitive and each time his tongue drags across it as he pushes it in, makes you clench around it. 

And when he starts flicking your clit with his thumb, you wrap your legs around his head, pushing your hips up against his face as your orgasm floods your veins. 

Beomgyu doesn’t complain one bit. Instead, he pulls his tongue out of you and licks up the slick dripping from your quivering pussy, sending little spikes of pleasure that peak through your already intense orgasm. 

You keep repeating his name, first loud and keening and gradually tapering off along with your orgasm until you slump back on the bed and his name becomes merely a breath on your lips. 

Only then does Beomgyu pull back slightly from your pussy, one of his hands still holding your lips apart as if he doesn’t want to let go yet, and asks you, “Did that feel good, princess?” 

You snort at the ridiculous question. “Are you fucking kidding me, Beomgyu? I was spasming on the bed and screaming your name. I’m sure even the guards outside can answer that question for you.” 

You’re sure even Taehyun can answer that question from how loud you were moaning…

As if hearing your thoughts, Beomgyu asks, “Was I better than him?” 

There is a clear sour note in his voice but you can also detect the insecurity behind it. Beomgyu never had to compete with another man for your attention and this new development obviously perturbs him. It’s even worse because you were far away from his watchful eyes and he doesn’t know what he’s competing against. Even though he had his own spies in Taehyun’s castle, it’s not like they were in the bedroom with you.  

“He didn’t… we didn’t do that.” 

"He didn’t eat you out?” Beomgyu scoffs in derision. “So my intel about him not satisfying you in bed was true then.” 

You flush. Beomgyu had intel about your bedroom activities? How? Was your desperation that obvious that even his spies caught on? 

“It’s not that. I’m sure he would have done it if I had asked.” You try to defend Taehyun and save face. You’re sure Taehyun just didn’t feel comfortable asking something like that of you. He’s a very reserved man and it wasn’t like him to ask anything sexual of you. Most of the time you had to be the one initiating things…

Beomgyu scoffs again. “What, he needs a request from his wife to please her?” He sneers, spitting the word ‘wife’ out venomously. “If he wasn’t going to appreciate what he had, he should’ve brought you back to the person who actually would.”  

You open your mouth to protest but you forget what you were going to say when Beomgyu puts his mouth back on you. He licks your slit from your entrance to your clit–where he wraps his lips around the little bud and sucks. Then going back and repeating that motions a few times until the tension leaves your body again and gets replaced by the building pleasure. 

Beomgyu seems even more determined now, as if wanting to prove to you that he’s so much better than your husband.

Your husband… how heartbroken he’d be if he could see you now, spread out for Beomgyu to do with as he pleases. 

But Beomgyu doesn’t give you space to let your thoughts wander to anyone but him. He pulls back to hover over your pussy and lets a trail of his spit drop down to wet your already soaked pussy. He swirls it with his fingers, teasing you, before gathering it and uses it to push two fingers a knuckle deep into you. 

“Oh, Beomgyu.” You gasp, hand flashing out to grab his hair and pushing it back to your pussy. He happily obliges, letting you guide his mouth back to your clit, his fingers moving to work that one knuckle maddeningly in and out of your pussy, the combined stimulation along with the sight of Beomgyu–your king–with his face buried in your pussy already getting you close to the edge again. 

"Fuck, how have you gotten so good at this?" You lament, your free hand clutching at the bedsheets.

"I had practice." He pulls back for a second to inform you and your stomach sinks. He tries to go back to eating you out but you quickly use the hand you have tangled in his hair to pull him away from your pussy. You also attempt to push him back with your feet but he manages to grab them and pin them down to the bed before climbing up your body. 

When he’s face to face with you, you snarl at him. “So you were fucking Ryujin all this time I was gone?” 

You press your hands to his chest, trying to push him away but he doesn’t budge. When the hell did he get so strong?

“Not all the time, but your scent was fading from your clothes and your bed didn’t smell like you anymore either. I needed to find relief elsewhere and she was willing.” 

You grit your teeth and try to look away but he grabs your face and makes you look at him. “Are you jealous, princess? How can you be jealous when you've done the same with him? I know you were begging him to fuck you."

Once again, you burn up in embarrassment. 

"You know I would have never done that to you, princess. If you were my wife, I would make sure that you’re fucked and happy every day." 

You shiver. You want that. You need it. You don’t want a man who you have to humiliate yourself by begging him to fuck you. You want a man who yearns for you, lusts after you…

I'm offering you power and dignity and yet you'd rather turn me away and run to his bed. Maybe you do like being his slut.

Maybe you liked it.

No. No. It’s not that. You just want to be wanted. Taehyun never wanted you. Not like you wanted him to. Maybe if he did, things would’ve been different. 

You only have Beomgyu, and he promised not to hurt you anymore. 

"But you left me." Beomgyu’s voice cuts through your internal battle. "You hurt me so bad, princess, but I knew I would get you back eventually. And I knew that I needed to make sure that when that happened, I would be able to keep you satisfied this time, emotionally, materially, physically…” His eyes fall to your chest, and one of his hands goes to your breast, brushing his fingers over the hardened nipple and making you let out a shaky breath. “So you’d never think of leaving me again. You see, I would fall at your feet at just the beck of a finger, but you've always made me work for it." 

An uncomfortable feeling akin to guilt sprouts in you at his words. Were you the Taehyun in this relationship? 

"But it's okay. I know how precious my princess is and I will pay the full price." He bends down then, kissing you. You kiss him back, losing yourself in his mouth and almost forgetting why you were mad in the first place. But when he moans against your lips, you remember. 

“Fuck me.” You demand, and you know he can tell why. He’s yours. He did so much shit just to get you. He belongs to you. You want to erase the memory of her from his mind, the feel of her walls from his cock. Mine. Mine. Mine. 

“Shit, do you know how long I waited to hear that from you?” He groans needily. And yet somehow he has the audacity to refuse. “But I can’t. If I give you what you want like always, you’ll never learn.” 

“Learn what?” You grit. “Didn’t you say if I was yours, you’d make sure that I was fucked and happy everyday?” 

He shakes his head. “I said if you were my wife, but you're not. Because you left and married someone else.” 

“You were married before me!” 

“And I would’ve figured something out but you couldn’t wait. You know I was looking into ways to dissolve my marriage to Ryujin?” He asks, stunning you. “But you got married before I could. You used me and threw me away when I was no longer useful to you.”

“That’s not true. I left because you hurt me! I got married because you were threatening me.” You deny vehemently. 

“You were going to leave even before I hurt you. I told you that I loved you. I offered to give up my position in order to be with you but you refused because then I would’ve been useless to you. I wouldn’t have been able to provide you with the level of wealth and power you wanted.” 

“No. That's not the reason. It’s not!” Your denial is weaker this time. With no actual reason given, you make up for it with your whines, hoping he’d drop it. “I had to, puppy. I love you.” 

“It’s not? Then what is? Why did you turn me down?” He challenges you, not taking the bait, and you sputter for a few seconds, racking your brain for a reason that wouldn’t make you seem so utterly selfish but finding none. If he had stepped down, he would’ve been able to marry you like you wanted, but you couldn’t let him do it. You couldn’t give up the comfort and luxury you were used to because of him. 

“Ok, so what?” You huff indignantly. “I like living a comfortable life. Who doesn’t?” 

“And did he give you a comfortable life?” 

You pout. “Now you’re just being petty.” 

He snorts. “And you’re being a child. You ran to him thinking he’s going to give you the power and status that you want but when he didn’t, you came back and now you expect me to just fall at your feet and give you everything you want, isn’t that right, princess?”

“I came back because you threatened war.” You argue with him. 

“Oh, so you’d be okay with me not treating you like a princess anymore? You’d be okay with me putting you in a modest house and not providing you with any servants or nice things? You’d be okay if I pulled away from you and focused on my wife?” 

You grimace severely. You hate being caught on your hypocrisy and if you could cross your arms and stomp your feet, that’s what you would be doing right now. “You can’t do that. You promised you’d give me everything I asked for if I came back.” 

“Fuck, baby, you’re so spoiled.” Beomgyu lets out a laugh in disbelief at your entitlement. “But yes I did, and I will, but you have to be punished first. You don’t get to betray me and abandon me and then come back and take what you want from me. You don’t get to make me pine after you all my life and have you use that to take what you want from me then throw me to the side for another man. I won’t go easy on you this time. I’ve coddled you too long and now you think you’re entitled to me. I have pride too, you know? I’m not just your lovesick puppy. What did I get from giving you what you want? You left me and went to him. You need to realize how much you’ve hurt me, how you’ve always hurt me.”

“So what, is that your grand plan? Not letting me touch you? Not fucking me? Need I remind you how much you were begging to fuck me before? You think you can actually pull this off?” You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him towards your body, pressing his hard cock against your pussy and the both of you let out a gasp. "You're mine, Beomgyu. You’re crazy about me. You did such fucked up shit to get me back into your bed and now you want to act like you can hold back? I know you're dying to bury your cock in my pussy, puppy. So just do it." You grind up against him, and kiss his neck, smiling when you feel him buck his hips against you. 

“You always treated me like I was disgusting for wanting your body but now you want me to take you because you're jealous and possessive? Isn't that what you hated me for?" He grunts, yet his hips roll against yours as if independent from his control. "You don't get to demand it, baby. You're going to have to beg for it."

God, you’re sick of his bullshit already. If what he wants is for you to beg so he’d give you what you want then so be it. You know you only need to have him inside you and then he’d be drunk on your pussy in no time and become putty in your hand again. 

"Please, baby. I need you.” You moan lewdly, “Don't you want to fuck your princess until I forget all about him?" 

"You always play dirty, you fucking brat." He curses, driving his hips against you harder. "But you’re not getting what you want. I can’t fuck you yet even if I want to." 

"And why not?" 

"Because I need to wait to make sure you’re not carrying his baby so when I do fuck you… if you get pregnant, everyone will know it's mine." At that, Beomgyu’s hips falter for a second. He clearly likes the idea of you carrying his child. 

You do too. Just the thought of it drives you wild–to carry his child, to have a family with the man you’ve always loved… but you know you can never have that. And you tell him as much. 

"You know, I can’t have a baby with you, Beomgyu. You’re married to Ryujin and I’m married to Taehyun.” You speak his name intentionally, wanting to rile Beomgyu up just like he did to you. Two can play at this game. “It’s one thing to have rumors about you fucking a married woman. It’s another thing entirely to confirm it by knocking me up.” 

Once again, his hips drive into yours just a bit erratically. “Maybe, but wouldn’t it be so wonderful?” 

“Beomgyu…” 

“Just imagine it, baby. Your belly all swollen up with our child… your tits getting bigger and bigger with milk…” He grabs your breasts at that, making you moan and arch into his touch. “You’d look so pretty, and everyone will know who you really belong to, who my real lover is.” 

You bite your lips, feeling his cock slide against your clit through his now wet pants, sticky with your arousal and molding to his length. “Why haven’t you had a child with her yet?” 

“Don’t want to.” He grunts, annoyed at you for bringing her up. 

"You need an heir."

“So give me an heir.” He tells you as if it’s that simple, and you can tell that he’s not thinking clearly by the hazy look in his eyes. You have to be the voice of reason, even if it’s so hard to do that right now. "Beomgyu, no…"

But he makes it so hard, "I can take care of any child you'd bear for me. You were afraid before that they'd live in secrecy, not recognized by their own father, but I can legitimize them now if I want."

"Legitimize them?" You gasp, pulling him against you harder.

"Yeah, my wife hasn't borne me any children. As a king, no one would begrudge me getting an heir from someone else." He purrs, rubbing his thumb over your nipples, noticing how you seem to whine louder at the idea. "You wanna give me an heir, princess?" 

You know he can’t actually do that. He maybe could if you weren’t married to Taehyun. Even if Beomgyu is married himself, it’s not uncommon for a noble, especially a king, to have mistresses and even bear children from them. But to have a child with a mistress who is already married to another lord–that’s something that even a king might not be able to get away with. 

Still, you’re needy and in love, and the thought of bearing an heir for Beomgyu makes your brain swirl with lust. You can pretend for a moment. What harm would it do?

“Yes. You’re mine.” 

“Fuck, that’s right. I’m yours, princess.” He sucks in a sharp breath. "You're so good to me. God, you would look so pretty carrying my babies. I want to cum in your sweet cunt until you’re all filled up with me." 

“You’re insane.” You breathe, but despite your words, you feel yourself creeping ever closer to the edge, and you need him to fall with you. "Why don't you show me how you'd fuck me full?"

He pulls his hips back and snaps them against yours, fucking you through his clothes, the drag of his hard dick against your pussy so maddening. If he could just pull his pants down and slip his cock inside you…

"Yeah, that's it. That's a good boy." You praise him and he chuckles, but his movements grow sloppy. "And you're a bad girl. Making me hump you like a dog again."

"You can fuck me if you want." You tell him breathlessly and he bites his lip in need. "You know I can't." 

"You can fuck my ass." You offer, just needing him inside you at this point. He liked that before, didn’t he? 

But Beomgyu holds fast, groaning in frustration at having to hold back. “Stop it, princess. S–stop trying to get out of your punishment.” 

You notice how he’s struggling to speak now. “Are you close, puppy?” 

“Yeah–yeah… so close. Princess, I'm burning up. You have me ready to cum in my pants again after everything.” He whines, disappointed at his own weakness. “I’m the fucking king and you still have me wrapped around your fingers. It’s so unfair how much I need you. Do you like playing with me?” 

"Yeah, like seeing you go crazy." You wrap your legs tightly around his waist so he’s forced to just grind against you, his cock hitting your clit every time and getting you so, so close. “You want cum for me, baby? Does your cock hurt? Are you balls all full for me? Wanna breed your princess?” 

“Y-You’re the devil.” He moans and you laugh. “Then cum for me, my king. Fill me up.” You mewl, alight inside with glee. He can resist and talk big all he wants but he’ll always crumble for you. It makes you feel like a god. You feel in control. It’s not so scary doing this when he’s so willing to be vulnerable and pathetic for you.

“Oh god, fuck—ahh–fuck–I love you. I love you so much.” He cries out, shuddering violently above you, his eyes rolling back for a moment. The warmth of his seed seeping through his clothes is a reminder of what he’s willing to give you and it sends you over the edge too. 

You both clutch onto each other as your orgasms crash through you, moving between your bodies as you moan in ecstasy. It shouldn’t feel this good. He’s not even fucking you, but just the chance to finally be allowed to share pleasure with each other is enough to send you reeling. 

Beomgyu is giggling lightly as he pulls back from you. “Fuck, I really failed in my mission, huh?” 

“Yeah, look how much you came all over my pussy.” You tease, noting the way his cum had seeped out of his pants and onto your pussy. “You might as well have fucked me.” 

“Don’t act like this is all me.” He shoots back with a grin, pulling at the sticky mess over his crotch that is made up of both your fluids, and you blush. “Whatever.” 

He leans down to give you a small kiss, his grin still plastered to his face. “But yes, we both know how weak I am for you, especially you, princess… Don’t get used to it though. You’re still being punished, you know? I just missed you.” 

“I did too.” You sigh, a soft, fuzzy feeling filling you up at the fondness in his eyes. This feels so right. Should it feel this right?

Reluctantly, you add, “Beomgyu… you know I really can’t have a child with you, right?” 

His smile falters a bit at that. “You don’t have to worry about that right now, princess. Trust in me for once, okay?” 

You hesitate, staring at him. In front of you is the most beautiful man you've ever met–his big doe eyes that poets would never tire from writing about framed by his long thick lashes, his perfect nose that screams royalty, his lips that were only made to smile and be kissed.

And that’s speaking nothing of his kindness, his passion, his wit, the way he would move heaven and earth to be with you. He has always looked out for you in his own twisted way. Even though he always held a deep sadness inside of him, he never burdened you with it much, preferring to take care of you, to listen to your own worries. Even now he’s not asking for much, just for you to let him take care of everything.

He may be sick. He may be obsessive, but what man wouldn't be when he's faced with the loss of his one and only? And how could you resist him? If the gods made him to be your downfall then you've already fallen. 

Maybe the gods won't be merciful to him in the afterlife, but as long as he lives on this earth, he will get your mercy. For you and him are two halves of the same soul.. 

“Okay.” 

He smiles brightly in response, giving you another kiss then sits up, getting off you. “Wait here.” 

He goes into the bathroom for a while, before coming out with a piece of wet cloth that he uses to wipe you clean before he gets you another gown to replace the one you were wearing. Then he changes his own clothes, chuckling at how the both of you ruined them.

“Now, I’m going to go tell the servants to get you some food. You must be starving.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to. I can eat in the morning.” You try to deny, but as if in protest, your stomach chooses this moment to grumble in hunger, and you blush. 

He laughs. “I’ll be right back, princess.” 

___________________________

In classic Beomgyu fashion, he brings you an entire feast consisting of all kinds of meat–beef, mutton, pork, chicken and even more exotic meats like ostriches and peacocks were all there–it’s as if he had prepared them for your arrival, just waiting for you to give in, and he probably had. The meat was done in a variety of ways–fried, roasted, boiled…There were also all kinds of fruits, nuts, cheese, wafers and liquor.

It is a banquet befitting a queen, and Beomgyu happily feeds it all to you by hand. 

“You’re acting like I can't feed myself.” You feign annoyance at his unnecessary actions, but you actually love it. Especially how every time he gives you a bite, he steals a peck.

It becomes a game between the two of you, you trying to eat without paying him his due kiss and him trying his best to collect it. You have to admit, you wouldn’t have eaten so much if there wasn’t the promise of a kiss from him on the line. 

He shrugs. “I like taking care of you. You barely ate anything at lunch and nothing at dinner. I was worried about you for hours and I’m just so glad you gave in. I’m not sure I could’ve slept knowing you’d gone to bed hungry.” He pouts, his old playful self shining through. 

"Why? Do you think I can’t take care of myself?" 

"I know you can but I still want to do it for you. It gives me pleasure to know I'm making you comfortable in life, to know you enjoy it a little more with my help, are a little more at peace, have less to worry about… in the past, that was all I was good for. Taking care of you gave me purpose when I had none." He looked at you through his lashes. "But you take care of me too, in your own way. You are so sweet and kind and lovely. You make life worth living just so I can share it with you." 

You stare at him, the breath halted in your lungs. Whatever did you do to deserve him? Deserve his love, deserve his wrath? The gods must really hate you, they must really love you, to have gifted you this wonderful, terrible man. 

Beomgyu gives you a sheepish smile and looks down, taking a piece of meat off a plate. “Try the hare. I hunted it myself.” He pushes the food into your mouth before you can protest, and sits back, looking at you with big, curious eyes, not giving you a kiss this time in favor of gauging your reaction. “Do you like it?” 

You chew it thoroughly, tasting the fine meat and delicious sauce that was the signature of the royal cook. You hum happily and nod, giving him your approval and making him smile. But his smile doesn’t reach its full potential before he asks again, anxiously, “Would you like to go on a hunt with me?”

You give him a confused look. Beomgyu never took you on hunts before. He never liked to involve you in “unlady-like” behavior. You used to think it was because he was being a usual domineering male, but you now know it’s because he just likes to take care of you.

"But I thought you said it wasn’t proper for a lady to go on hunts." 

He shakes his head, smiling sheepishly once again. "I was an idiot. I only said it because I was afraid if you learned to depend on yourself, you would outgrow me."

As if you ever could. "And what changed your mind?"

"Because it didn’t work. Your escape showed me that if I don’t give you what you want, you’ll go look for it someplace else.” He explains tensely, fidgeting with his fingers. “He took you on hunts, didn’t he?”

"So you're just competing with him? Is that why you're suddenly learning to spar too?” You narrow your eyes at him, “Is that why you cut your hair?"

He shrugs. “I just want to make you happy.”

"I was happy with my best friend who was a lanky, long-haired weakling who couldn’t defend himself for shit. You don’t need to be like him to make me happy. But it's sweet that you’re finally not being as much of an idiot." You roll your eyes at him. “I like archery and want to keep practicing it but no. I don’t want to go hunting. I didn’t really like it.” 

He smiles in relief. “Okay.” 

He’s clearly happy with your response. He may have offered this to try to appease you so you wouldn’t go back to Taehyun, but it clearly made him uncomfortable. Maybe it’s wrong of you to enable his behavior, but you realize that you like being taken care of as much as he likes taking care of you.  

Beomgyu tries to feed you more of the hare but you pull your head away. “No more. I am absolutely stuffed. Man, if I ate like this every day, I would be as big as a cow.” 

“I want you to get bigger.” He shrugs and pokes at your shoulder. “You’ve really gotten so thin there. Did he not feed you?”

“He fed me.” You glare at the cheap shot. “But the food there didn’t taste that good, and you know I hate fish.” 

“I know, baby.” He smiles, taking you in his arms and kissing you. “My spoiled baby can’t eat anything less than the absolute best food the kingdom has to offer.” 

You want to protest and tell him it’s not true, that you were perfectly fine eating the castle’s bland, improperly cooked food but you know he’d see right through you. So you just huff and let him kiss you. It’s no use pretending like you don’t crave his coddling anymore. 

Beomgyu calls for the servants to clear out the plates, and when they’re done and you’re alone again, he leads you to bed. 

Once under the covers, you fall into his arms, preparing for a blissful night of sleep in the arms of your love, but as you lay your head on the pillow, you feel something under it. Pulling it out, you see that it’s your fairytale book. 

“What’s this doing here?” You ask, confused. 

“Oh, I used to read it every night when you were gone.” He admits in a small voice, burying his face in your shoulder. “It made me feel closer to you.” 

“Oh, you silly puppy.” You coo, a smile tugging on your lips as you flip through your beloved book. 

Inside, you come across another surprise. Nestled between two of the pages is a dried up sunflower. 

“A sunflower.” You say, your smile growing bigger, and you feel him nod. “Your favorite.” 

“You know why they are my favorite?” You ask, humming contently as you touch it gently so as not to break the fragile thing.

“No, why?” 

“It’s the first flower you ever gave to me.” You close the book and put it aside before turning to face him, recalling fondly, bashfully. “We were teens and I had just learned about how sunflowers follow the path of the sun in the sky. I had thought they were just called that because of their color and shape. So I excitedly went to check out the crop of them in the garden. I watched them all day. They followed the sun and I followed them, sketching them out in my little book. But I couldn’t get the middle part quite right. I needed a closer look so I tried to cut one down, but the damn thing was taller than I was.” You laughed, remembering how you kept jumping up and down trying to grab at one. “So you–”

“Climbed up the pillar nearby and got the biggest one for you.” He finished, and you blush, looking away, “Yeah… it was a ginormous thing. I had to cup it in both my hands in order to hold it, but I pretended in my head that it was a rose the handsome young prince I was in love with was giving me in order to woo me.”

You feel his warm hand gently guiding your face back towards him. “I was.” 

Your heart skips a beat at the revelation. The both of you have been in love with each other for so long and yet neither of you knew about the other’s feelings. “Why didn’t you tell me how you felt before?”

“I was afraid you’d pull away from me.” 

You want to refute his words but you know he’s right. You would’ve probably figured things out sooner if he had confessed to you and your life together would’ve collapsed even sooner. 

“You were the only one who saw me for more than the annoying second in line, and I loved you for it. Even after the others started to come around as I grew up, I couldn’t forget how you were the only one who saw me for a long time. You saved me, princess. I couldn’t lose you.”

You think back on how Beomgyu was like as a kid. He was always adorable to you, but he definitely came across as a menace to others. You were aware of that much, but you didn’t think it bothered him. 

“I thought you liked annoying others.” You say dumbly and he laughs and lowers his head, hiding in your shoulder again. “Believe it or not, I didn’t just play pranks and overall act as a menace just to annoy people, though it was a bit of fun. I wanted them to notice me. No one paid attention to me other than my mother and sister, and my mother only did so because her other son wasn’t giving her the time of day.” He nuzzles into your neck, seeking comfort, and you run your hand up and down his back soothingly.

“I so wanted people to take me seriously like my brother. I wanted my father to love me too. I wanted to make him as proud as my brother did, but no matter how hard I tried, I could never compare. So I resorted to acting out because it would get me attention from him and others, even if it was negative, at least he was looking at me. But then he wouldn’t even do that.” Beomgyu laughs painfully. “He made it a point not to look at his own son, and then so did my brother and then so did everyone else. I was the other prince but no one cared. I even overheard some of my fathers men saying that it’s lucky that Yeonjun was born first because if I had been born first then the kingdom would’ve been doomed.” 

You knew he had always looked at you for reassurance that he didn’t get anywhere else, but you didn’t realize how deep it went. He was so alone. God, it makes you ache just hearing about it. You want to go back to that little insecure boy and hug him until he feels like he matters. 

But you can’t so you do the next best thing. You hug him now, and he holds onto you tightly.  

“So that’s how I lived my life… until you came along.” Finally he pulls back from hiding and looks up at you with a smile. “You didn’t care that I was annoying. You loved me for it. It made you laugh and so I kept doing it more and more. You didn’t think I was such a waste of space. You listened to what I had to say and you looked like you actually cared. It was… nice.” 

So that’s why he latched onto you so hard. 

“It was the same for me. I’m the youngest daughter of an inconsequential lord. No one gave me a second glance before I met you, except old men who would leer at me and ask my father how much they need to pay to have me.” You shudder at the thought of what your fate almost became, and Beomgyu’s hands tighten around you protectively, a frown twisting his handsome features. “Only you noticed me. Only you cared. You saved me, made my father believe I had value, and made me think so too. I know it sounds superficial after everything you just said, but having you–the prince–pay attention to me and want to be in my company after I’ve been put down by other nobles all my life made me feel like I wasn’t inherently less valuable, that I had worth too and that someone could look at me and see past my lacking family background, that I could be loved and cared for like I never was before. And for that someone to be you–so handsome, so generous, so funny, so sweet…” You punctuate every adjective with a kiss over a different part of his face, making him giggle. “How could I have not fallen for you?” 

You were made to save each other, made to make each other feel like you mattered in this big world that treated you so coldly. 

“How long have you loved me?” He asks, and you think about it deeply, but can’t quite place it. “So long. It was so gradual, so natural, that I didn’t notice it until I was in too deep… maybe I’ve always loved you. Maybe our souls knew each other before we came to this earth. What I feel for you is so strong I’m scared it will annihilate me.” 

“I will never let that happen.” He promises solemnly and a strange sadness sprouts in your chest. “What if you’re the cause of it?” 

“You think too much, princess.” He brushes your gloomy ruminations away, running his fingers delicately through your hair.  “I’m just so glad you gave in. It was so horrible not having you in my arms when you were right there. I was going to go crazy.” 

“It was only a day. Don’t be dramatic.” You grin but he doesn’t mirror you like he usually does. 

“A day and a year.” He corrects and you falter. “I can’t believe you left me for that long.” 

“I’m here now, baby.” You reassure him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “And I’ll stay with you forever…just… please leave him be. Don’t attack his city. You have me now. I’ll stay.

"I want to believe you, but you lied to me before. How can I trust that you’ll stay this time?" 

"Do whatever you see fit.” You surrender yourself to him completely, prepared to take anything just to end this war before it starts. “Just don’t hurt him anymore." 

“So you won’t leave me again?” 

“I won’t.”

"Are you willing to prove it?" Beomgyu asks ominously, and you gulp. 

"Yes." 

__________________________________

A/N: this took a long time, didn't it? I'm still not satisfied with it but i hope you guys are. it was definitely tricky to write this chapter so let me know what you guys think especially with how she left taehyun and got back to gyu

the next chapter will probably take a long time too as i just got my job back so savor this as always lol

oh and i don't know how many chapters are left. i have everything planned out but the chapters keep getting too big that i have to cut them in half, therefore increasing the number of remaining chapters. this is just half of the chapter that was supposed to be chapter 9 lmao

[otomehoneyybearr]

Act 12

Episode 10: Decision Time

Working w/ Maybelle Lace

Note: As you read, you will see that some sentences highlighted in a different color, this is what they indicate.

Pink: Flashback

Blue: Characters are acting

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Tenma: I can’t believe a board member was behind all of this...

Banri: Shit. It’s been that guy, all this time.

Sakuya: Amadate...

Izumi: Are you okay?

Sakuya: It's hard to believe, but it's the truth...

Izumi: I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier.

Sakuya: No, it's fine. It’s surprising, but I have to accept reality...

Syu: It's unfortunate that we're in a situation like this.

Zen: Originally, we planned to deal with it ourselves.

Hiro: Sorry for causing you trouble.

Kasumi: I'm sorry that we put you all in danger.

Izumi: There's no need, it's not your fault...!

Syu: But this is the seed we sowed. We were supposed to corner him, but we got outsmarted.

Syu: It may take a while, but we will definitely take responsibility and drag him out.

Hiro: You all of the next generation shouldn't become a repeat of what happened to us, the first generation.

Hiro: If you all become torn apart, you will just give him exactly what he wants.

Izumi: ——I see what you mean.

Izumi: But, let me just say one thing. We call ourselves the first generation and the new generation, but aren't we all a part of the same Mankai Company?

Izumi: We can't just leave these matters to you guys.

Izumi: The new generation has faced a lot of hurdles up until now, but each time we all talked it over and worked together to get through it.

Izumi: I am sure we will be able to overcome it this time too.

Izumi: The new generation has strong members, and if we work together, we'll definitely be able to beat any opponent.

Banri: You can't just make the first generation look cool while ignoring us.

Tsumugi: We’ll fight too.

Tenma: Let us help you.

Sakuya: With all of us together, we will never lose!

Izumi: Once again, I would like to ask for everyone’s cooperation on this.

Izumi: As the general director, I will absolutely protect the Mankai Dormitory and Mankai Theater, where everyone's home is.

Izumi: So please, lend us your strength to overcome this crisis!

Sakyo: Obviously we’ll help.

Masumi: We'll do anything.

Yuki: Naturally.

Homare: Leave it to us.

Muku: I will do whatever I can to help!

Juza: I won't let ‘em hurt something important to me again.

Citron: If push comes to shove, we'll mobilize an army!

Itaru: How strong.

Guy: That may cause a diplomatic issue.

Syu: But there’s one thing we should be cautious about.

Syu: If the performance is canceled, the audience won’t be harmed, but the theater company members are a different issue.

Syu: Unless the troupe is disbanded, they will come after the troupe members. Nowadays, Amadate will stop at no lengths as long as it is a means to an end.

Syu: We won’t know what he’ll do next if he realizes that we’re still active despite canceling the performance.

Yuzo: We have to be very careful so that things don't end up the same way as they did before.

Izumi: ...

Izumi: (That's true... If the theater company continues any longer, everyone will be in danger.)

Izumi: (I don't want us to fall apart, and it's frustrating to have things go the way he wants...)

Izumi: (But in order to protect everyone, we may have no choice but to disband.)

......

Board Member A: I would never have thought that a theater company with so much promise would suffer such misfortune.

Board Member B: Their performance was supposed to start tomorrow, correct? The situation seems quite hopeless for them...

Board Member C: Do we have any more details on the situation?

Board Member D: There haven’t been any announcements from the theater company yet.

Board Member A: Hmm, I wish there was something we could do to support them...

Amadate: It's a tragic incident, however the board of directors can't support any particular theater company...

Chairman: ...

Chairman: Let’s move on to today's agenda. We will introduce our new board member candidates.

Reni: ...

Amadate: So the Chairman's recommendation was Kamikizaka.

Reni: ...

Amadate: ...What’s wrong?

Reni: ...It's nothing.

Chairman: Now then, each candidate, please give a brief introduction.

Board Candidate: That is all. Thank you.

Chairman: Next, is Kamikizaka.

Reni: I am Reni Kamikizaka. I am the founder and director of the GOD Troupe.

Reni: ...Having been in the theater industry for a long time, I know that the theater world is not as pristine as it seems.

Reni: I, myself, have engaged in acts that touch upon taboos that made me lose sight of myself just to surpass or undermine other theater troupes.

Reni: And I continue to regret those actions.

Reni: But that’s precisely why I want to dedicate myself to the actors and theater groups who earnestly devote themselves to the stage.

Amadate: It takes courage to confess your own mistakes. I am curious about the details of this.

Amadate: But do you really think someone who has made mistakes can get votes?

Reni: Because I can never change what I did in the past, I want to sincerely dedicate myself to the future of the theater world.

Reni: ...And I vow to never overlook the presence of those who, like me, have made such mistakes and lurk in the darkness.

Amadate: ...

Reni: (However, since the deal with K fell through, I can’t continue the plan to expose Amadate.)

Reni: (After all, he’s a tricky opponent. I’ll have to work more carefully than I did before.)

Reni: (But I won’t give up. I WILL break his stronghold.)

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Prev | Next

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[sheepispink]

A Pearl Necklace

HAPPY ENDING VER of A Pearl Series

Ch1 Ch2

Where leon doesnt mess up and also leons pov because THATS SO FUN!!!

Continued from end of chapter 1 👍 this is a BONUS chapter. It makes more sense if you read chapter 2 first then this one. This can also be read as a continuation from chapter 2 as in the time line is the same except that it is ends with a good way and its his pov and like a few lines r diff

“That’s good enough. I fucking hate being woken to push her away from me..” A surge of anger swims in his chest as he shuffles to the edge of his bed, fuelled by a fear he doesn’t dare to pay mind to. It’s true, he hadnt wanted to deal with your tears or the feeling of you so close to him; nowadays

it created a feeling that was like a gnawing at his gut. His body eventually settles as his head sinks into the pillows, fluffed by your hands. Even when he’s tucked underneath the covers and beside the love of his life, he just feels so, so.. vulnerable. He rolls onto his side, one hand under his head as he tries to settle a racing pump somewhere in his chest, his eyes squeezing close. His throat chokes and his muscles clench and although he hasn’t made a sound, the reminder of the past few weeks screams in his ears like bells. Every single day is starting to feel more and more like autopilot, blanking his head out in hopes he can do his job without being reminded of horrors of years ago. He was worked up tonight, having fought another B.O.W and hiding a nasty gash beneath his shirt. You’d definitely ask about it later; the mere possibility bringing a flame of anger and forcing him take a sharp intake of breath. He turns over, seeing your back face him now and his lips pull at a small frown, wondering if you woke up for a moment. You shouldn’t be crying yourself to sleep, ever. But he leaves you this time, still revolting the thought of your touch and your skin if he dared to come closer.

When he wakes the next morning, he cant take it anymore. How is there another round of tears upon her face? He finally pushes away the nausea that creeps in his throat, his hand resting on your shoulder. “Hey, love, what happened? Who did this to you?” Forcing such honeyed words feels like a crime to himself, almost making him frustrated with himself for being untruthful. He also hates the way he’s grateful when you just wipe them away and force a smile, mumbling something about watching a sad movie. Not even for a moment does he dare challenge that, satisfied with a lie as he gets up for another gruelling day.

Over the next month, he feels a swell of pride for how much he has healed. For one, he’s managing his thoughts and emotions much better, no longer hanging on a loose thread whenever someone just speaks. He feels better, having finally gotten to the hang of closing his mind off whenever the thoughts arose. He was sleeping better, you barely even touched him in his sleep anymore— it was perfect. The one thing that slightly irked him is when you would leave the house. Why are you leaving? He hates that he’s curious and he knows he should just let you go; it’s another fuel for the temper that seems to take him easily these days. You’ve also been asking a lot of questions about him recently: how he finds the clothes you ironed for him, the food you cooked and, worst of all, his day. He’s already doing enough to push it away and you’re just bringing it right back to him again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He smells the familiar scent of blueberry pancakes as he steps into the kitchen that morning. You’ve been making them again recently but he wont dwell on the why and how. He doesn’t really like to think too much anymore. He picks up the newspaper as he sits at the small kitchen island, hair tousled and muscles aching from the long rest he received after a particularly tough mission. He had woken up on the other side of the bed today, kind of confused how he didn’t squash you in his sleep but as always, he doesn’t question anything. You slide a plate over to him, stacked high with those tasty pancakes and a dollop of whipped cream atop. He always had a bit of a sweet tooth and it’s been a long time since he’d been in the mood for sugar. Regardless, he’s not in the mood to smile or thank you, just eating his food as per normal.

“So..? Did I finally get it right?” He doesnt need to look up to see the small laugh and the way your lips curve into a teasing smile, one he had grown to despise. You always do this, every time you ask about his damn day.

He just- he cant take this anymore. You’re always prying, digging deep into his head and ripping bandages he left on because the wounds wont heal, they never will. He keeps them patched up for a reason, he doesn’t want to see it again. Nor does he want to talk about it.

“Can you stop interrogating me every day about whatever you do? It’s fine, okay? It’s never been any damn different; I don't see the big deal.” He scoffs, gritting his teeth as he holds back from practically shouting at you. His eyebrows furrow in exasperation, one hand rubbing his temple; he cant bear the headaches your words bring.

“I.. Leon- I was just trying to get some feedback.. They dont ever taste as good as the ones you would make.” Now you’re reduced to a stammering mess, trying to stir guilt within his gut, but he wont give in today.

“Well, can you stop? It’s really fucking annoying having to answer your stupid questions every day over menial things. Are you that insecure?” He doesn’t know why he said that but he knows it’s left his lips before he can stop it and one pang in the back of his head tells him that maybe he really is just being honest. You are insecure, thats why you’ve been doing so damn much and annoying him all the time. He takes another bite of the pancakes, his body screaming for relief even now with each rumble of his stomach.

“Leon- I understand work has been stressing you, but I'm just trying-“ There it is, that stupid expression again as you speak the one thing he never wanted you to say. “Work? That's what you think this is about? Maybe you are just idiotic or too narcissistic to realise maybe you are the problem.” He drops the fork in his hand, the metal hitting the porcelain plate as he stands. Of course you just had to mention work, you could never let him get a break could you? You just always had to ruin it for him.

“I am trying to actually be understanding, I'm sorry if I annoyed you but Leon- there is no need to put me down like that.” Again. Work. Don’t you know how to stop? He can feel that anger fuel again, rising and burning with each an every word. Until it snaps.

“You think you’re being understanding.” He laughs at your pitiful expression, thick with a mocking tone, as he says the words. “I can’t believe it. You actually think that. If you can get one thing through your mind, know that you don’t understand anything about me. You never have. Hah.. ever since that night where I almost fucking choked you.” He sneers at you, pushing the chair back as he stands, walking over to the sink with footsteps that echo with uncontrolled emotions.

“I’ve been trying to ask you—to help you. I want to be there for you..“

“Yeah, as if. You know, on that night, I really thought that you might just understand, unlike anyone else has. I was stupid enough to even think that. You just told me your same stupid reassurances; I should’ve kept my hands on your throat a little longer that day. I wish it scared you off and out of my life.” He snaps, leaving a thick tension in the air, like a wall between the pair of you. It’s cruel and unforgiving and an ache in his heart tears the muscle. Bloodthirst, it’s all he can remember from that virus thrumming in his veins. He can’t just quench that bloodthirst, not to you, so his mouth does the work, wearing you down bit by bit. The consuming memory of devouring the very life out of a human, it’s almost like it’s returning to him now.

“You’re not what I wanted.” Words are just spilling out his lips and he cant even control them; he cant even hear each calculated insult.

“I shouldn’t have expected things you could never reach.” He speaks, the plate dropping into the sink with a horrible clatter. All your words are blurring into one, meeting, intersecting all at that one statement ‘work has been stressing you’.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He stands before the sink, having splashed his face with water at least seven times for the past forty minutes. Only now does he finally feel more like himself—or well the version of himself he prefers to exist as—and his head is free from that invasive fog. Slowly his chest falls, letting out a long breath as his finger pushes the tap off. He hasn’t dealt with that in a while and it only served to remind him that he never wanted to again. That feeling of an aching chest, ribs feeling like they’d crack from the pound of a terrified heart, desperate for relief. Although he always manages to calm every time, the edge of the cut always remains unsealed. Theres no real relief other than the fact it’s all over, no peace in his mind ever. It frustrates him all the more, he’s tried anything and everything and yet theres still that pinprick of a hole which has cracked his mind and heart.

After that, he barely stopped interacting with you altogether. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt right. Maybe it was because you really were pissing him off about everything or that he had started to fall out of love with you. Or maybe, though he never liked to let it linger, he was terrified of the memories only you could resurface. He watched your every frown, the light in your eyes slowly dim out as you start to shift and change. It’s been two months since he last considered you his wife, let alone someone he even cared for. He barely feels the guilt of leaving you like this anymore nor does he feel anything anymore. It just feels blank. Like everyday, every hour, every minute of these days. He can’t remember when he last washed his hair; he just knows he did it. He cant remember filling out the reports, but there they sit on the desk. He cant remember what life was like before the missions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Six months. It’s been six months since he almost killed you, since his hands were on your throat and your terrified expression flashed through his eyes with your shaking pupils and beating chest.

Six months since he hurt you. He thought you had moved on, he thought he moved on. He thought he was doing okay.

Only having just stepped through the doorway, his eyes already found your trembling form on the couch. Your eyes were red and wet, salty streaks down your cheeks as you sob. The worst of all is that when you heard him enter, your eyes widened in a way that was far worse than just regular shock. Like you’d be scolded or mocked, shouted at or reprimanded; you looked like you were scared you would be hurt. He couldn’t shake that sight this time, every time he looked at you even when you scramble to reassure him that it was just hormonal. He knew it was bullshit; he had always known and he wanted to ignore it but he just couldn’t. Not anymore. Not when you were scared of him.

He sits at the breakfast table again the next morning, the air quiet from the lack of humming when you make your food, not even music playing in the kitchen or a pep in your step as you dance around the kitchen. You dont spend 5 minutes fluffing the pillows before bed, nor do you use those stupid face masks with the silly patterns. Hell, you dont even put makeup on anymore. The fridge is stocked and yet theres not even a trace of you to mark it as yours. Everything seems to have changed more than he expected. He cant fathom that he missed all these little differences and the fact there were so many. You’re not the same anymore.

There you go again, leaving randomly during the day after scrambling some excuse about needing spring onions. You barely ever use spring onions and he’s positive he saw some in the freezer yesterday. Whilst he usually would’ve ignored it, he finds himself edging closer and closer until he finds himself following you down the road. He saw the fresh tearstains this morning and you gave him no explanation again, this time he will find out.

You walk and walk and walk, and yet you never go to the grocery store like you said. So why do you even leave the house? It’s not like you were avoiding him, you still hung around him plenty and it’s not like you just needed fresh air, otherwise you would’ve just said so. He keeps his distance as he follows you, your depressed expression obvious, until eventually you pass by a friend. It doesn’t look planned but eventually the pair of you sit at a bench and as bad as it seems, he just cant turn around now. What if you tell her the reason you’re always upset? He needs to know.

“Hey, you know i always see you outside these days. I mean damn, do you really love nature that much?” Your friend teases, although a small pitiful look swirls in their eyes. Leon had been wondering the same thing as her.

“I uh.. well..” You give a sheepish smile as you lean into the bench. “I figured Leon would want some alone time.”

“Again? You come like everyday.”

You just shrug, sinking into the bench and quickly shifting the topic with a shake of your head.

A lot of things are starting to become clearer to him now. Every single action of yours held genuine love and yet he couldnt even bear to think about it. He wouldn’t dare to, he couldnt give in no matter how tempting it seemed. This is the life he chose; the life that would kill him slowly but it had it’s perks. He heads home after that, thinks about what happened for a bit before deciding ultimately to leave you alone again. Even so, you still plague his mind every night, every minute and second. It still makes his chest burn all the more, his irritation on an all high. He should not care, he cannot care. So why does it feel like he’s going to eventually break?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His body is covered in bruises when he returns home that night, a bandage around one of his hands and his eyes sunken. He had never felt worse in his life, feeling like he was tipping on the edge of fainting or just losing everything altogether. His heavy feet dragged him, feeling like weights were pulling him back as he reached the doorstep. After a few mishaps, he finally finds the keys and unlocks the door. His boots echo on the hardwood floor and though he’d usually collapse into bed, he needs some painkillers desperately tonight. The door for the kitchen is right there but he feels compelled to head to the living room and check if you’re awake. He hates that he’s actually glad he did.

This feels like the memories that resurface, only a new kind. You’re crying, again. You’re sobbing your eyes out and he’s had enough; he’d exhausted, bruised and battered and he’s not letting guilt consume him tonight. How dare you disturb the life he forced himself to follow? Anger swells at the sound and sight of you crying today, not because it hurt his hears but because it hurts his heart. The footsteps grow louder as he nears the couch and he hates the way you look up at him in a trembling fear, hands gripping the fabric of your pajama trousers. “L-leon, i didnt mean- it was a sad movie-“

“Stop giving me those fucking excuses.”

He’s pissed, his body feels broken, and he’s not letting you get by anymore. He’s letting that anger reign free. He nears the couch until he’s standing before you, no words spilling out your lips as you freeze up in fear. He could do anything to you but would he actually harm you? He knows he looks like he would, and he sees that realisation flash before your eyes. He leans down, closer and time seems to slow as his hand reaches out. His eyes focus on how you squeeze your eyes shut, the mere sight grasping his heart tight, brace for the impact and the sting of pain that should follow if he were anyone else.

But he’s not anyone else and he’s disgusted with himself that you would think so. His hand meets the small of your back as his arm wraps around you. He places your hands around his shoulders, knowing you seem far too frazzled to do so and takes you into his lap as he settles in your seat. In silence, he strains his bruised arm to grab the blanket you keep at the end of the couch. You always said it was for ‘cold nights’ but it always translated to cuddling sessions until you were caught by slumber and he carried you to bed. The warm fluff of the blanket is pulled over the pair of you, his hand keeping you firmly in place against his chest as he makes sure to settle you. He doesn’t dare say a word, the nausea in his throat creeping higher with each brush against your bare arms. But he’ll bear it for you, just this once. He knows your still unsure: he can see the way you sneak small uncertain glances as your hands twitch at his shoulders, begging to wrap around his form. So he doesn’t make you lift a finger, taking your hands in his and helps them to settle around his body before he returns to his embrace on you again. It’s utterly silent in the room yet the need to speak is desperate; the both of you know this isn’t normal and yet neither of you are complaining. With his chin resting gently on the top of your head, he rubs your back slowly until you relax into him and somehow grasp him even tighter. Even though his body feels like a block of ice, some part of him inside melts aswell; a small sign of that vulnerability he despised returns. Yet still he stays here until you begin to mumble small apologies which are only met by a small shake of his head and a motion to stay silent. You immediately fall quiet and he sees your eyes glimmer for the first time in months; he’s not sure if the crying caused it or true hope, but he prays you’re feeling just a smidge better. You end up resting your head against his chest comfortably, glistening tears staining your cheeks as you eventually fall asleep.

He takes you upstairs soon after, settling you on the armchair as he notices the dirty sheets from his lack of care. Despite his previous exhaustion, he couldn’t care less about his bruises as he takes out fresh sheets from the cupboard and changes them quickly. Once the bed smells brand new again, he scoops your drowsy body again, hushing you when you begin to wake, and tucks you beneath the covers. He cant lay beside you in such a state so he begins to head to the bathroom, considering a quick shower just to scrub off any grime. Much to his dismay, he’s quickly stopped, your weary eyes blinking as you sit up in bed and your fingers lightly tugs at his hand.

“I.. uh.. um..”

“Yes?” His voice comes out gruffer than he’d like, fingers twitching at the feeling of your skin against his.

“You- you’re going to come back, right? You’re not going to leave, will you?” The mere sound of your hopeless tone is enough to make him grit his teeth. The question sounds hopeful and yet it’s obvious you think you don’t trust him to say the truth.

“No, i’m not leaving, I’m just taking a a shower.” He states, voice just as cold as the one that would cut you through with insults. Still, his hands are gentle as they push your shoulders back into the bed.

“Go back to sleep..” He sighs, pulling the covers over you again. “I’ll be quick. I promise.” He watches as you reluctantly nod, eyes watching him with distrust before he turns around and disappears into the bathroom.

He stands infront of the mirror again, waiting for his mind to crack and fall as it usually does on these hallowed nights. He had done everything wrong tonight; he touched you, spoke to you, even promised you. He went near you when he shouldn’t have. But no onslaught of fears come today, or that sharp ache in his chest which reminds him on horrors in a foreign place. Instead, he just looks at his confused expression in the mirror, because for the first time in seven months he’s not acting mindlessly. He’s actually thinking, breathing and talking; he’s living. After everything he’s done to survive and live better, the one thing he needed was you. He understands now, after all this time, why his mind was so insistent on staying away from you, why he did everything. It was because he was scared.

Everytime he gets a nightmare, it ends with the fear on your face after that horrible night. The more he pushes it away, the more he tries to forget is the more he ended up harming you. He refused to touch you because of the fear he could do it again. Every single thing shut off in his brain because he was terrified of those traumatic experiences and he couldn’t ever admit it. He even refused to come near you because he was scared you’d try console him and he knew he would break within seconds. Vulnerability had never been his strong suit and the mere fear of it had ended up being the cancer that consumed every single part of him until he became a living shell. He never wanted to hurt you, or snap at you, or make you feel like nothing. He always figured it was better that way because it meant you wouldn’t have to deal with him and he wouldn’t have to open up. He was a coward and he had paid the price for it; the cost would’ve been your sanity if he hadn’t cracked tonight. He doesn’t want to think of what could’ve happened if he didnt, but he has to. Avoiding everything led to this and it will again. His hands plant against the shower wall as he starts to wash, and slowly begins to think about everything he did wrong even if it hurts more than those night terrors.

He watches your drowsy eyes widen upon seeing him when he re-enters the room, his heart aching at the tear stains that shimmer on your cheeks from earlier. “I told you to sleep..” He mumbles out, standing awkwardly in the doorway, wishing he could avert his gaze but that would be too cruel to you. “I..i… you..” Your lips fumble for words, eyes gazing up and down his unclothed body. Just in his boxers, he stands before you with his adams apple bobbing as he swallows sharply. “Yeah..”

From head to toe his once pristine skin was covered in scars and bruises of all kinds. He hadn’t let you seen him since his trip to Spain and the sight had been much more horrible back then. Scratches, bite marks, dark scars that show deep gashes and even fresh purple bruises from today’s mission. He knew he couldn’t bear to speak to you about anything just yet, but he mustered up his courage to at least show you. He was also aware this wouldnt make you magically forgive him and he wouldn’t accept it if you did. He fucked up, everything, but he’s not about to let it die when he can at least help you bounce back. He’d destroy himself if it meant seeing you as happy as you used to be.

“Leon.. i..”

“I know you’re going to feel bad, so don’t. I didn’t want you know, thats not your fault.”

He watches you nod meekly, quiet eyes still scanning all over his scarred form, before he begins to walk hesitantly over to the bed. Clenching his fists, he drives down the burn of pain that comes with each step and the guilt that blazes through his gut. Your hands reach out, tentatively before grabbing onto his own. “..Fine, i wont say that.. but can i say one thing at least?”He lets out a small sigh and nods in agreement, squeezing your hand as he sits in bed next to you. Your eyes flutter meekly as you swallow, his hands carefully lifting you to bring your head to rest on his lap with his back pressed against the headboard.

“I’m pissed at you. I- i really am and-“ Your eyes are persistent as they look right up at him, chest rising quickly as you spill everything out. “You made me feel like i was going insane and-“ He’s concerned at how your nails imprint into your palms before he gently moves your fingers to focus on something else—anything else, even himself. So he pulls you into him as you crumble, your fingers digging into his back as to express your desperation. 
“I wanted to help you so bad- i didn’t want us to fall apart and we were, fuck- we couldn’t even be near each other. You looked so miserable every damn day Leon- I couldn’t even do anything about it-“ You let out a choked sob against his neck, his hand pulling you firm against him as he squeezes you protectively.

“It was never your fault, you’ve never done anything wrong in your life. I was too much of a fucking coward to face life and i ruined us.” He confesses, the palms of his hands cupping your flushed cheeks. “Dont you dare forgive me, not now. I dont want you forgiving me until you’re absolutely sure.”

You quieten down almost instantly by his words, reaching your hands up to rest behind his neck until eventually you nod and he knows he’s made the right choice. His lips turn up just slightly and then you sit up a little better, trying to look firm even though you had been so vulnerable a moment earlier. That’s why he loves you, you’re just so perfect. Not once have you ever cared about what others think of you, nor do you let yourself be trampled over so easily. Even if you’re lips are wobbly as you narrow your eyes at him right now, coming off more adorable rather than angry. Despite everything he’s ever fought and the praises he receives for his work, you’re the strongest person in this very world and the reason he’s still here. You once told him that if he was a mountain, you’d be like those little flowers that grow at the top even when the conditions are beyond habitable. He’s never believed anything more until now.

“Fine.. if you really want that then i wont forgive you until you tell me everything. I refuse to forgive you until you tell me every little thing in your head.” His lips quirk into a slight smile, a first in too many blank days to count. His thumb rubs the curve of your cheek, so rosy and pink. “I promise, the day you forgive me will come.” He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before shuffling until he’s laying back in bed with you atop of him. “But for now, i want those dark circles under your eyes gone immediately.”

“You should sleep on the couch for all the days i did.” You feign annoyance, small huff leaving your lips and without a second thought he rises out of bed. It’s like it’s hitting him all over again, like a teenage boy trying to hide his crush, he misses the warmth of your body desperately. Even so, he knows he deserves far worse than sleeping on the couch, so he’ll bear it for now.

“I’ll make you breakfast everyday day going forward too. Blueberry pancakes, just the way you like it.”

Right now, it sounds like the bare minimum, but you had no idea how much he’d love you from now on. He’d tell you more but he’d prefer to see the glimmer in your eyes when you’re surprised. Though you tug at his hand before he can go.

“I think we can leave your punishment for next week. You owe me 6 months worth of love.”

That makes him finally grin and he’s under the covers again, arms enveloping you before you press your lips against his.

[all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth]

All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Bad Blood (5x12)

As frustrated as he was with Ronnie, he found it hard to really blame the kid. If he was going to deviate from the recommended bovine diet, drinking from a tourist wasn’t the worst idea. But Ronnie was rash and the wrong person saw. Now he had to deal with government intervention.

“Now, uh ... that can't be what it looks like, right?” Lucius asked, trying to add a nervous quiver to his voice while Agent Mulder prodded the bite marks. He found that in these situations, addressing the idea of vampirism right off the bat would help ease his nerves. The investigator would usually roll their eyes and offer a more rational theory.

“You mean like a vampire? I wouldn’t be so quick to dispel the idea, Sheriff. Vampires have always been with us, in ancient myths and stories passed down-”

If his heart was still beating, it would have given out right about now. He felt his knees buckle as he cleared his throat, the metallic taste of his breakfast lingering in the back of his mouth. This guy was onto him.

While Agent Mulder blasély listed off details about the Hartwell’s ancestral tree, he tried furrowing his brow and nodding along enthusiastically, as if this was the first time he was hearing about them. Luckily, Agent Scully didn’t seem to agree with this theory. If anything, she looked a little bored. She was still paying attention, but she sent Lucius a polite smile, as if she appreciated him indulging her partner. 

“-but some might say this was the work of ‘Satanic Cultists’,” he finished, sending a pointed look to Agent Scully.

Now that was a new one. “What satanic cultists?”

The woman furrowed her brows at Agent Mulder before explaining. “While vampires are often brought up in these types of cases, there is a more logical precedent of youth in small towns fixating on different forms of media to the point of obsession. I think that we're looking for someone who has seen one too many Bela Lugosi movies. He believes he is a vampire, therefore…”

“They act like one. Yeah. Yeah. That makes a whole lot of sense,” he nodded. He remembered the teens in the ‘30s going wild for Bela Lugosi. Nowadays, they were all about Interview with a Vampire and Buffy ; the local covens had even reported an uptick in teens pretending to be vampires. They had no class, no decorum. They just gave vampires a bad name. If he could get Ronnie out of this while dragging one of those Brad Pitt-loving freaks down, that would be perfect. “I think she's right.”

With a disgruntled sigh, Agent Mulder replied, “What about the fang marks?

Lucius hoped that showing solidarity with Agent Scully would divert them from the vampire theory, so he slowly walked around the table and chose to stand closer to the woman, which unfortunately posed a problem all of its own. 

Seemingly oblivious to the threat in front of her, Agent Scully smiled up at him and stepped closer to him as she elaborated. “Well, there is a psychological fixation called hematodipsia which causes the sufferer to gain erotic satisfaction from consuming human blood.”

His salvatory glands were working in overdrive between all this blood-talk and the assault of her intoxicating scent. It was taking his full concentration to keep his fangs from dropping into place. 

Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump.

He couldn’t help but follow the noise, his gaze dropping to the pale white expanse of Agent Scully’s neck. The thin, porcelain skin covering her pulse point was thrumming in time with the beat of her heart. The juicy tendon of her neck was plump with warm blood, and all he wanted to do was grab her and take a bite. She would look so beautiful with his fangs buried inside her. He could only imagine how she’d taste on his tongue.

“Erotic,” he murmured softly. “Yeah.”

He heard a faint, dissatisfied grunt that broke his focus, and realized his appraisal of Agent Scully hadn’t gone unnoticed. The scrutiny made him anxious, and he realized his teeth had slightly shifted forward in his mouth to make room for his fangs. Trying to be discreet, he quickly covered his mouth with the palm of his hand, as if really focusing on what she was saying, while his teeth shifted back. 

“I think you’re absolutely right,” he affirmed. He dropped his hand and offered her a wide smile, hoping Agent Mulder would notice and think anything he saw before was his eyes playing tricks on him, but the man had already focused his attention elsewhere.

“Wanna know who else gains erotic satisfaction out of drinking human blood? Vampires,” he deadpanned, causing Lucius’ smile to drop. Now that was just racist.

Then, out of the blue, the man asked, “Have you noticed that this man's shoes are untied?”

God, he’d been trying so hard to ignore that. The sight made his palms itch with the need to knot the laces. “Yeah, they sure are,” he replied, cringing at how strained his voice sounded.

The agent nodded enthusiastically. “I’m going to need you to take me to the local cemetery, Sheriff Hartwell.”

“Can do, sir.” Getting some alone time with Agent Mulder would be useful, in one way or another.

With trepidation, the man had placed a gentle hand on his partner’s lower back and murmured, “Scully, I need you to conduct an autopsy.”

Learning that this woman could do autopsies came as a pleasant surprise. She would make such a great addition to the coven: smart, beautiful, fearless, she was all Lucius could ask for.

He continued staring at her, even as her partner exited the morgue. When she noticed, her frustration seemed to abate which only made his hunger grow.

“Ma'am,” he greeted in a charming drawl.

As he turned to leave, he inhaled her piquant, heady aroma once more, running his tongue over his cuspids in wait. “Hoo, boy,” he murmured under his breath.

Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Archive of Our Own!

@gaycrouton

[afandommultiverse]

General HC’s for Simon "GHOST" Riley

♱ A/n: don’t get me wrong, I love some good Ghost fluff, but it just feels too OOC for me, so here are my personal head cannons for my hundredth baby daddy🫶 p.s I would just like to mention I still ain’t play the game so my lore isn’t the best but that ain’t stopping me🕺

♱ Warnings: 18+, some nsfw hcs towards the bottom, there is a warning before hand!

⌐╦̵̵̿ᡁ᠊╾━ ♡ ⌐╦̵̵̿ᡁ᠊╾━

♱ this man is fucking mean. He WILL hurt your feelings on occasion, both on purpose and not. He. Does. Not. Give. A. Fuck. Either way.

♱ matter of fact, this mf thinks he is right despite being very VERY in the wrong, and it takes a LOT to get him to admit to being wrong.

♱ STUBBORN AS A OX BRO, his motto is literally “My way or the fucking high way.” No ifs, buts, or in-betweens!!

♱ be prepared to make many, many arguments and still get nowhere on a specific topic. your opinion does not matter for a long time for this man, and takes months of getting around to even thinking about your side of anything.

♱ it would take a long time to get close to this man, like sure he might be down to fuck quite early on, but to be emotionally available in any way other than angrily fucking your brains out is going to take YEARS.

♱ probably isn’t interested in keeping relationships with citizens because he doesn’t want to get wrapped up in his life, lovers, or friends, his position in special forces keeps them all vulnerable

♱ not until recently (being on this new team) does he actually have friends, ghost kept to himself and still does, but after recovering from his betrayal, he would bond with no other teammates and refused to cross any lines with anyone

♱ anger fucking issues- this man has. Like yes, he can control himself in the moment and continue to lead on with the mission, almost acting like your disobedience didn’t even phase him, but OH you better be expecting a whoop-ass reprimanding that will leave you doubting your entire worth and existence

♱ or if a particular enemy is pissing him off, he won’t let his frustrations affect his movements, in fact, it only fuels them, and when he finally gets a hold of em’ there’s nothing left but a bloody pulp of a person

♱ the highest possibility of becoming a friend is being on the team or meeting in a bar when he had been drinking a little bit - both of which you will have to be highly persistent to evoke a reaction

♱ he likes it when people talk to him, which makes him feel less scared and intimidating in public areas. Of course, he likes to keep that vibe when on missions or dealing with interrogations and such, but still out in public. he wants to make people as least uncomfortable as possible, even if his skull baklava is a little intimidating

♱ SPEAKING ON INTERROGATIONS, I know for a fact that this man has committed WAR CRIMES on other men for information, like he totally has it in him to do so, ESPECIALLY, when it’s a a horrible war criminal or sum

♱ he is a metal, heavy metal, grunge, hard rock, kinda guy - don’t deny it. He’s got way too much trauma to not want to blast out his eardrums at every possible chance. He also likes to explore all genres too, like alternative metal, black metal, alternative, alternative rock, etc.

♱ lowkey likes to bond over music, like trading music with the team and talking about it and what they thought when meeting up later.

♱ he likes to sit down and have a cigar with Price every now and then, ofc drinking with him too. They have their own “superiors” moments and talk about how the team is doing and what training could help them for the next mission.

♱ almost always does extra reading and research on the mission itself and/or where it takes place to avoid and map out any possible problems that could arise that no one else would foresee, especially regarding his own benefit nowadays.

♱ ghost likes his job, as much as it has been a lot on him and the people around him, he couldn’t see himself anywhere else than right here, fighting for the rights of people he’d never meet but know are free because of him.

♱ it gives him some peace of mind, and he needs it because the poor baby has been through a LOT

⌐╦̵̵̿ᡁ᠊╾━ ♡ NSFW ♡ ⌐╦̵̵̿ᡁ᠊╾━

♱ come on, you know I had to, but speaking of him going through a lot, he has definitely picked up a few kinks along the way, most of which are from his occupation

♱ coming in at number one, a pretty vanilla thing now I guess, but choking. he loves that shit, both on himself and his partners, he likes the feeling, his senses overwhelmed and everything throbbing, bringing a little oxygen deprivation, and he's all there.

♱ but of course, he also loves the sight of someone underneath him, fucked out and panting, but they can't catch that breath they so desperately need to ground themselves, and while they keep trying to find it, he keeps fucking it out of reach.

♱ second, bondage duh. again something he both enjoys on himself and others. he liked the feeling of the bruises after the deed. It's one hell of a reminder that gets some weird looks, but he doesn't mind, just keeps reminding him of you

♱ thiiiird, knife AND gunplay. now, this takes some serious trust between him and the partner, and truth be told, he usually only did this with male partners he had met through work originally. he loves it, and honestly, nothing gets him going faster, but he has some serious trust issues and can't just go giving everyone he fucks a loaded gun pointed at him

♱ yes, loaded. ‘it ain't fun if it ain't.’ that's what he always says

♱ if it is a one-night stand, he is likely to not put much into aftercare, but if he will see you around a lot, in bed or otherwise, he’ll put more effort into it. This could be cleaning you gently with a wet rag, or softly rubbing your back while you try to catch your breath after he has taken you from behind. He does not cuddle tho, though he ain't a cuddly man the first few sessions, sooner or later that wall comes down and you’ll find yourself tucked into his side when you come too, and he’s just blankly staring out, not trying to think about how well you feel there and how badly he wanted to stay the

♱ but he won’t ever stay the night, again not for a while, and the first time he ever did- it would be an accident. He was simply too tired and rested his eyes for a second, only to wake up the next morning to you rubbing his back as he laid his head on your chest. he acted like he hated it, grunting and pulling away from your touch to rush and get ready to leave. deep down though, he can’t get rid of the feeling of your fingers softly grazing him awake off of his back for the rest of the day.