#like the moon you are always new and always ancient. always who you were and who you are and who you will be

[slverblood]

I think what makes the most sense is if Aylin has extremely short hair for a long time post-canon, almost shaved if not shaved at times, and then eventually grows it out again. Short hair is just easier to manage when she's already struggling and overwhelmed and adjusting to life after a century of torment. She's also trying to reclaim some power over the trauma of it being cut against her will by essentially revisiting what happened except now she's in control, she's holding the shears. As well as ensuring no one can ever take her hair from her again. She's cutting it off and burning it; there's nothing for them to take. It's an imperfect way of coping, but honestly show me a perfect one.

It's a long time — I'm talking years — before she decides to grow it out again. It's part of an attempt to move beyond what's been done to her, to rediscover how she wants to look not how she thinks it's safe to look. It's another way of reclaiming autonomy and power over herself, wearing her crown of hair in spite of those who would take it from her. It's also done in memory of the people, especially the women, she loved in her past. Erlona, the Four Moons, the priestesses in the temple — hair care was a shared ritual. Even Meadowlin brushed and braided her hair. She struggles a lot with physical touch after being freed, and she's hard on herself about that; she used to be so free with it. She used to fear nothing. But, it starts with trusting Isobel to help with her hair and slowly grows to trusting other people. She has a community again; she has family and friends again; she can trust and be safe and be loved.

Maybe there will be periods where she cuts it again and grows it out and shaves half and styles it a different way and dyes it. Ultimately, it's not about the hair. It's not about beauty or even femininity. It's about what the hair means to her. Having control over her own body and how she presents it. Having a connection to the community, to the people, that were her home. Carrying those rituals of intimacy forward into new relationships, feeling safe and loved again.

[toms-cherry-trees]

Cracked || Jacaerys Velaryon x Twin!Wife! Reader

Summary: No one ever said duty would hurt like this

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: Twincest targcest (Velaryoncest?), angst, spoilers if you haven't watched S2E2, for anti hating purposes is not explicitly stated but all characters are above 18.

Author's note: Won't you look at me, 7 months since my last HOTD fic! That scene with Jace tearing up definitely did something to me. My very first time writing for Jace, hopefully won't be the last!

Also a massive massive thank you and all my devotion to @moris-auri for beta reading this!

No one welcomes him when he lands in the Dragonmont. 

The flapping of Vermax's leathery wings is amplified, booming throughout the massive cavern, swirls of steam rising from the cracks on the dark stone. The only ones to witness his arrival are the dragon keepers, but even they are distracted, their focus on the exhausted dragon and not his equally drained rider. When they stride past him, they don’t acknowledge him at all, almost as if he doesn’t exist. Jace wonders if he is a ghost, because only in death could someone feel the agony that seeps from his bones and still be standing. 

He feels like a foreigner in this place. 

Even though he has lived on Dragonstone half his life, he feels like a foreigner. The fortress is not theirs. He doubts it never truly has been. They are just keepers of these ancient walls and the history they carry within. Dragonstone is a relic that will stand on that island for a thousand years to come, as welcoming as a gush of Northern wind on bare skin. The only warmth comes from its very core, from those who habit it and who've made the great fortress a home. 

But the home he left weeks prior is not the one he now returns to. The warmth has been snuffed and the hearth has been shattered. 

He walks with his head held high and his back straight, gaze always ahead and chin lifted in a gesture of near arrogance. He walks like an heir, because he is. He is now his mother’s heir and he must play his part, even if all he wants to do is lay his head on her lap and weep like a boy of ten. 

A moon ago he was just Jacaerys Velaryon. He was a son, a firstborn son, but with no more responsibility than studying and learning, mastering skills that would serve him purpose in 30 or 40 years. His greatest concerns were training Vermax properly, what desserts would be served after supper, and how to avoid falling into another of his siblings’ silly pranks. He had been betrothed long ago, but marriage itself was something distant, something that could wait out a few more years.

He was a brother of five with another sibling on the way; a sister. While most in the castle pined for a son, another boy, he secretly supported his mother’s longing for a little girl.

And now he is Jacaerys, Prince of Dragonstone and heir to his mother’s throne and crown. He is more Targaryen than Velaryon now. He is an envoy, a messenger, a warrior if needed be. He is a strategist and a politician. He is an asset and a threat; someone who has forged great alliances, but also has found strong enemies, their weapons aimed directly at the target behind his head, target painted there by his grandsire many a year before his birth. A wedding , hastily arranged, to strengthen their cause and their line of inheritance. 

He is a brother to just four now, and the crib has been left empty. 

Cregan Stark had been the one to break the news to him. Standing on a cramped lookout on the edge of the world, nothing but whiteness as far as the eye reached, Lord Stark had said that the Wall did more than keep savages and ice at bay. It held back death.

But death came nonetheless.

Jacaerys had managed to maintain his stance as a man and a Prince, receiving the news with unyielding stoicism, even when his knees felt weak and his body chilled, like ice had spread down his spine. But this ice was nothing like the one surrounding him, there on the edge of the North. This one burned, burned like dragonfire while stabbing him with a thousand knives, leaving him to bleed out while not allowing him to die. It stole the air from his lungs and the blood from his veins, and filled him with snow. His lungs couldn’t breathe, his heart couldn’t beat yet somehow he didn’t drop dead right there where he stood.

He recalls little of what occurred after, nothing more than brief, precise memories. Receiving Cregan’s condolences, and feeling the firm squeeze of the older man’s hand on his shoulder. Northerners parting silently to make way for him in the courtyard, where a restless Vermax awaited, his screeches rattling the windows of the nearby towers. Someone handing him a parcel, hastily wrapped, containing a sleek wolf pelt as a present for their Queen. The thunderstorm he traversed in the Riverlands, and the toll it took on Vermax to fly through it. 

The painful tightening on his throat as he wondered if he had encountered a similar one, not far from home.

Servants and courtiers make way for him, as he approaches his mother’s chambers. They bow and curtsy, and offer words of courtesy, lamenting the loss of the young Prince. Some stare out of the corner of their eye as he passes, waiting to see if the new Prince of Dragonstone will crumble like sand before their very eyes. But he never betrays himself; not a tear brimming in his eyes, not a wobble of his lips. The occasional flaring of his nostrils is the single telltale of the sorrow that simmers just beneath his skin. 

He hesitates briefly, pausing at the end of the vast hallway where the royal apartments are. Up the winding staircase, past the single set of double doors to the left, his mother awaits. No, not his mother, the Queen. She stopped being his mother the day the crown was placed atop her head, and the court of Dragonstone bent the knee before her. Grief and loss shaped her, morphing her into the leader and ruler she had been born to be. Jace can only admire her, and hope that he will be able to embrace his new role as effortlessly as she has done hers.

The double doors are pushed open by Ser Erryk. The Queen sits alone, gaze downcast and thoughts troubled, that much Jace can tell by the nervous fidgeting of her hands, twisting her rings almost compulsively. When her eyes rise to meet his, Jacerys sees in them a mirror of himself, the same exhaustion, the effort to push back and bury the wrenching misery, the bleeding wound left behind by their loss.

They are alone, just the two of them in that silent alcove. Jace could break down, weep like he hasn’t done in years and lay his head across her lap; let her slender, motherly fingers card through his hair as she assures him that all will be well in the end. But he can’t, he can’t because she’s more Queen than mother now and she’s grieving too, grieving deeper than he is and if she can keep it together then so can he, because he is her heir and he has to make her proud and be a man worthy of respect. 

The Prince doesn’t cry; the heir doesn’t cry. 

A man remains immovable and imperturbable.

He straightens his back, head held high and hands laced before him as he recounts his triumphs, the Houses he convinced to pledge for them and what each one has offered and asked them in return. This moment should have been his shining glory, with himself striding through the castle with pride and confidence, ready to announce to the council how he had secured the allegiance of the Vale and the North for their cause. He would bask in his wife’s admiration, drink the praises from her lips and show her he was ready to one day be a great King, with a great Queen by his side. 

Instead it is just them two, hidden behind doors, picking up the pieces falling from their carefully built masks before they completely fall apart. He brings good news, great news, but they matter little and now taste like ash in his mouth, burning and bitter. His victories mean nothing to him because his little brother is dead, gone 60 years before his time, and they don’t even have a body to burn and Jacaerys feels it should have been him, because he is the eldest and he should have protected him better. He should have faced their rageful uncle and died instead, but he didn’t and now he stands there, moving and doing because if he stays still the grief will swallow him whole and bury him in a pit of sand.

And then his voice breaks, the facade cracks and they both stop pretending, because pretending hurts, like gripping a white hot rod with both hands and refusing to let go even if it’s hurting you.

Her embrace is warm; her arms feel like home. With his head tucked under her chin, his cheek pressed against her chest, he feels young again. He feels the sobs racking her body, the tears dampening her face and his hair, her fingers digging on the fabric of his cloak. They sway slightly, rocking from side to side like when he was a babe of just a few days old, fussy and restless, keeping the whole holdfast awake at night because he refused to settle anywhere but on his mother’s arms. 

But now Jace suspects the motion is meant for her more than for him, to transport her to days past when she held her babes in her arms and they were safe under her wing and no one could harm them because she would sooner tear the world to pieces. Discreetly the places shift, now it's her forehead against his shoulder and his arms holding her steady. Jace feels the tears stinging his eyes and the lump blocking his throat, but he cannot break down because his mother is broken and someone must stand strong and whole and it has to be him. 

Soon, too soon,  his mother has dismissed him, sending him to his chambers to bathe and rest because they will have the funeral at sunset and they must not show weakness before the court. The cracks must be patched and hidden, no matter how deep they run. Not a single piece can fall out of place.

He drags his feet now; the weight on top of him has grown heavy. His posture slackens, his shoulders slump, the pretence is harder to hold. Sunset feels like a death sentence, because a funeral makes it real. It makes it true. Burning what they have because there is not even a body left behind to burn. That way he can no longer pretend that is not happening, that is all just a tale. And then, he will crack. No willpower will keep him whole because his brother, his little brother is dead and he has to face a future where Lucerys will not be a part of it.

He pushes his chamber door open with one shoulder, his mind blank of any thought; the encounter with his mother affected him deeper than he had anticipated, because even she is cracking and now is just him holding it together because he has to. 

And then he sees her. 

His wife sits before the hearth, so ethereal with the glow of the fire illuminating her face. Her head turns as soon as the door opens, and he immediately notices the red around her swollen eyes. At first he thinks she’s mourning, but she’s had her time to mourn and Jace knows she’s crying for him, crying because she feels the agony straining to break through his flesh. Just like they have felt each other’s every emotion for as long as they have lived, have anticipated each other’s words and read their thoughts. Connected by a bond that runs deeper than marriage, because they are of the same blood, come into the world together.

The last time he saw her before his departure, they had an ugly fight. Jacaerys had convinced their mother to keep her at Dragonstone rather than allow her to fly as an envoy, claiming they could not leave the fortress unguarded and with the larger dragons going in and out on their missions, they had to pile up their remaining strength. The Queen had agreed, and her word was final. 

She could not argue with Her Grace, but she certainly made Jacaerys know how she felt about what she perceived as a betrayal and lack of trust in herself and her abilities. Jace pleaded with her to see reason, to see things from his perspective. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in her, he would never dare to doubt her strength. But he didn’t trust the men she would encounter on her journey, nor did he want her to risk taking a long flight on her dragon and run into danger. She, always the hot headed one, had called him every name under the sun and refused to see him off, choosing instead to sulk in her chamber. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, to leave on bad terms with her, but he trusted they would talk it out upon his arrival. That all would be well and their problems would be solved.

He stands silently before her, and for the first time he feels small. So small and diminished, unwilling to look her in the eyes. His gaze is fixed on the floor because the tears are winning the battle and if they do he will crack open like a dragon egg, but no great beast will emerge, only his insecurities and his failures.

His lower lip wobbles, and he bites it so hard he leaves the imprint of his teeth. His nails dig deep in his palms in his attempt to steady their accusatory trembling. He breathes in and out, slow and steady, his eyes squeezed shut as he feels himself losing control. He cannot allow himself to lose it, not in front of her of all people, not when he is supposed to be her pride, not her embarrassment.

He hears the sharp drag of the chair as she stands, the thud of the heavy tome she had been reading being thrown rather carelessly over a table. Her steps are slow and calculated as she moves across the stone, approaching him cautiously like he is some wild beast ready to lash out. Like he is some fragile thing, so fragile that a gush of wind could break him apart.

Her hands are soft and warm as they cradle his face, gently coaxing him to look up, to meet her eyes. But he can’t, he fears he will see disappointment in them, he will see accusation, he will see her blame him for Luke’s death, for forcing her to remain back when it was their little brother who needed his protection the most. 

For failing the family.

He succumbs in the end, brown eyes gingerly rising to meet her own, bracing himself for the worst. But he sees nothing of what he expected. He sees no anger, no resentment, no pity. Just worry and tenderness, and a desolation that matches his own.

The first tears he has been holding back since Winterfell finally escape the barrier of his willpower and roll down his cheeks. He attempts to blink them away but they cannot be stopped, nor does he have the strength to stop them no more. His wife brushes some away with her thumbs, and smoothes back his hair in a tender gesture

“Jace.”

That little world, the call of his own name coming from her lips is all that it needs for the dam inside him to burst. The violent sobs rack his body, tears blurring his vision and he chokes on them, while also feeling like he’s breathing for the first time since that raven arrived at the Wall. He tries to hide his face but she won’t let him, and tears shine in her eyes too and that only makes the crying worse, because his wife is suffering and he cannot console her because he’s also suffering.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

His legs weaken and his stance falters. The same apology falls from his mouth, the small words tumbling over each other and getting lost in the incessant weeping. His knees falter and he drops down; his forehead rests against her body and his hands are on her hips, fearing he will lose her if he lets go. He sobs onto her dress, not caring anymore about being the perfect Prince and heir, about being the man everyone will respect and be proud of.

His wife drops to her knees too and holds him close, allowing his head to lay against her shoulder. The scent of her body fills his nostrils, aroma of camellias and toasted sugar. It smells of happy memories and easier days, and it evokes a sense of safety in him, of tenderness, of the happiest days of his short life. His cry doesn’t stop, but it is not only for Lucerys now. It is for his mother, for his younger brothers, for himself and for all the losses to come. He cries for his twin, his wife, for now the fear of harm coming her way has increased tenfold, and the mere idea of her being cruelly ripped from his side tears a gash on his heart.

He cries until he’s sure there are no tears left to cry. Until the weight has been lifted from his chest and he is sure he can breathe again. They remain there for what feels like mere seconds and a lifetime at the same time, locked in each other’s embrace. Her fingers card through his hair and her lips press tender kisses to his temple; his arms wrapped around her, hands pressed against her back to keep her close, as close as he can to his own heart. He would gladly stay there forever, spend the rest of his days encased in her warmth and basking in her love. But the moment is broken all too soon when a servant knocks on the door to let them know that courtiers are already gathering in the outskirts of the castle for the funeral.

Jace lets himself be guided by the hand like an obedient child to sit before her vanity. She moves around him silently; unneeded words would only break the feeble spell of calmness surrounding them.

She takes care of everything for him. Wipes his face clean with a damp cloth, presses a cool spoon to his eyes so they will not appear swollen and bloodshot. He changes into a fresh tunic, and allows her to comb his hair and powder his face to disguise the redness of his cheeks and nose. 

They stand together before the ornate mirror, both of them dressed in matching red and black. She helps him pin the cloak onto his tunic, fastening it to his right shoulder with a silver dragon brooch. Jace holds her gaze in their reflection, hoping to convey with gestures the emotions words fail to do. She understands; she always does.

He is rewarded with a kiss on the cheek, and while it does not manage to coax a smile out of him, it fills his veins with a pleasant tickling warmth, the same he felt after their first kiss and the one he hopes to feel until his last breath. 

Her fingers run up his arms gently, tracing the embroiders and trimmings of the doublet. They come to rest on his shoulders and gently push them back, straightening his posture and puffing out his chest. The right index continues the ascent, tracing the curve of the neck and the still sharpening line of the jawline before settling under his chin, pushing upwards ever so slightly to lift his head. Urging him to hold himself with pride. To unapologetically show the world that he is cracked, but not broken.

She comes to stand before him at last, smoothing down nonexistent creases from his clothes until nothing but pure perfection remains. They hold each others’ gaze for a few moments, before she reaches up to steal from him a gentle kiss.  

“All ready, My Prince.” 

This time, he smiles.

[atlasofthestaars]

heart to heart

summary: 

“The touching of foreheads—this is an ancient greeting. that honors the heart and soul of another human.” 

you and your lover have a tender moment.

includes: Liu Kang, Kung Lao, Raiden, Johnny Cage, Kenshi, Reptile, Scorpion (Kuai Liang), Sub Zero (Bi-Han), Smoke, Shang Tsung, Mileena, Kitana, Ashrah, Havik, and Cassie Cage

note: something different ig?? just wanted to do something indulgent and wanted to dabble in drabbles. (these ended up being longer bc. pressure.) I also wanted to take this time to practice writing some sweeter stuff for the love interests of New Era + Cassie bc my friend likes her. idk if people want more I can probs do other charas too.

LIU KANG

A content sigh left your lips as you pressed your forehead forward to meet Liu Kang’s. Your eyes fluttered closed. His hands, which now no longer had their wraps, gently cupped your cheeks. His hands were always warm, and they helped keep away the chill of the night. A thumb gently rubbed small circles, a habit of his that you always found oh so endearing. You couldn’t help but to melt into his hands.

This was perfect. There was nothing more you could long for in this world. Though, you knew if you wanted anything Liu Kang would be there to fulfill your wishes. Anything was worth the smile on your face.

In the day, Liu Kang was often busy with his duties. Being the protector of Earthrealm came with many responsibilities, and the both of you knew that. Oftentimes, you would go long stretches within the day without seeing a hint of your lover. It was simply something you had to accept being Liu Kang’s lover. However, that did not mean he neglected you. Not at all.

At the end of the day, when the sun gave way to the moon and let it shine upon the world, Liu Kang returned. Night time was always the time he set aside for just the both of you. It soon became your favorite time of day just because it meant he would be there, right at your side.

“You look so perfect.” Liu Kang whispered. His voice carried reverence within it, as if you were the god who had crafted the universe with utmost care and love. You opened your eyes, and for a moment, you were left breathless. No matter how much time passed, he always looked at you as if you were the pinnacle of perfection.

Any sort of response you had was stuck in your throat. You could never tire of staring into Liu Kang’s eyes. You often asked if he had given himself the ability to hypnotize others with his gaze. He told you every time that no, he did not. But if he didn’t, why were you so entranced by them every single time you dared to look at them?

You wished you could put into words how much you loved this man. From the way he looked with his silky long hair that you loved to play and run your hands through, to the way he was so kind and loving. You often wondered and asked how you were lucky to be the partner of such a god, to which he always told you that he was the lucky one.

“I am thankful you wait for me every night.” The god murmured, his voice so full of love and genuine thankfulness. He removed his forehead, and you mourned the loss of contact before he pressed a featherlight kiss to yours. Then, he returned his forehead back to yours, and everything was as it should be. “I wish I could spend every minute by your side, my love.” 

You wished so too, but every night was just enough for you.

KUNG LAO

Your forehead bumped into Kung Lao’s a bit clumsily. There was far too much energy and excitement buzzing in both of your veins to prevent that little stumble. It didn’t matter either way to you, you were just happy to be in his arms. He was equally happy to hold you, and you could tell by the way his arms squeezed around you. 

You always felt happiest in his arms, honestly. There was nowhere else in the world you’d rather be than right here.

“Did you see that!?” Kung Lao asked, his eyes wide as they searched your face. While Kung Lao always sought out approval and compliments, there was nothing better than the ones he received from you. It just made him feel like he was on top of the world. To his delight, he saw the way you nodded accompanied with a wide happy grin on your face. The grins he got from you were perhaps the best type of approval he could ever get from you.

A laugh left your lips as he squeezed his arms tighter around you in delight. Every embrace from him felt like it was full of the love he felt for you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. His nose nuzzled against yours, and more laughter spilt from your lips. You couldn’t help it, he knew just how to make you happy. Your face heat up from how nearly overwhelmed you were from his affection, the love nearly overflowing from your heart.

“You’re always so cute when you blush.” Kung Lao teased, a hand rising up to pinch at your cheek affectionately. His eyes glinted with mischief and glee, but most of all, love. He adored the way he could make you blush and how your heart would race. It meant that you felt exactly the same way whenever he would just look at you sometimes.

You leaned back, a wide grin on your face as you swatted away his hand in a playful manner. Rolling his eyes, he instead cupped your cheek. Before you could protest in any sort of way about his earlier comment, you were attacked with a flurry of kisses all over your face. 

“Sorry, you’re too adorable. I couldn’t resist.” Kung Lao apologized, but you both knew he would pepper your face with his kisses again and again the next chance he got. His grin was the perfect mixture of smug and gleeful. And his dimples were the perfect icing on the cake. You raised a hand up to cup his cheek and traced his dimples with his thumb.

“A fan?” Kung Lao inquired, eyebrows raising up in a teasing manner. His ego seemed to only get bigger and bigger with every adoring look you gave him, but you didn’t care. A laugh left his lips again as he pressed his forehead back to yours. It was a little too much force again, but the both of you didn’t care. All that mattered was that you were together and basking in each other’s mutual affection.

You wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything in the world.

RAIDEN

Your forehead pressed against Raiden’s gently as the two of you lay underneath a sea of stars. You two had decided to stargaze since it was such a pretty sight outside. The sky was clear and the moon was full, and yet there was nothing you wanted to look more at than the man beside you. How could you not?

Your eyes searched your lover’s face, admiring how the moonlight fell just perfectly on his face. How could a man look so amazing as the one in front of you? Perhaps you’d have to thank Liu Kang sometime for blessing you with the image of perfection. While being so in awe of the champion’s beauty, you nearly missed the comment he made.

“You look amazing.” He spoke, his voice filled with so much affection for you. He always wore his heart on his sleeve. It was a trait you adored so much, even if was sometimes a flaw of his. A soft smile appeared on his face, the very same one that made you fall a bit more in love with him every single time. You couldn’t help but grin just a bit wider at the sight. 

You should be the one telling him that, in all honesty. The proper words to express your love for him were lost though. How could someone express such adoration and love? You thought there weren’t nearly enough words in all of the realms to tell him how much you truly admired him. 

His hand moved carefully towards your face, as if moving too fast would break the peaceful atmosphere. He was always so thoughtful about such things, especially so when it had to do with you. Then finally, after far too long, it settled on your cheek where it should be.

His thumb moved slowly across your face before it landed on your lips. It rubbed across your bottom lip leisurely. His gaze drifted away from your lips as he returned his thumb to rest on your cheek once more. Now they settled on looking into yours, and you wondered to yourself just how lucky you were to have such a man by your side.

“You are more lovely of a sight than all of the stars combined.” Raiden said, his voice filled with such sincerity it made your heart skip a beat. Then again, he was sincere in all things he said. It didn’t make you swoon over him any less. “I’m so lucky.” He confessed, humble as ever. You sighed at his little comment, withdrawing from his forehead to press a soft kiss on the tip of his nose for a moment.

You watched with silent admiration as color rose to his cheeks, blossoming in a soft reddish pink. Then, it spread across his face like a watercolor painting. If only you could save this view forever. You grinned at the sight, your heart swelling with joy. You couldn’t help but kiss him again, overwhelmed by the love you felt for the man in front of you.

What a sight.

JOHNNY CAGE

Your forehead pressed against Johnny Cage’s, and it felt like you were in a movie. Maybe you’ve been watching too many of his movies lately, but you couldn’t help it. You loved supporting him and his passions. The pride he had on being on screen was nearly palpable every time you watched one of his films. 

The feeling of being in a movie wasn’t helped with the way your lover was acting.

I mean…the way he was looking at you was pretty much the perfect shot for a movie. Your cheeks warmed up, and you were certain Johnny was bound to notice. Even if he wasn’t looking at your cheeks, his hands were sure to feel how the skin beneath them heated up. Your eyebrows rose up, looking at him a bit confused.

“What? Can’t I look at you?” Johnny inquired, sending you a smile. It wasn’t quite the practiced, perfect smile he sent his fans. No, it was the smile he always sent you. It was a little less perfect, but it was a little more real…a bit more genuine. Best of all, it was just for you. Your heart couldn’t help but flutter a little at the sight. 

By the gods your lover was so pretty. And he sure knew it, but how could you blame him? Looks like that were meant to be shown off. Even still, you were thankful for the small private moments like these were you were allowed to see the parts of him no one else could. It just reminded you of how fortunate you were to be with this man.

Little did you know how much he adored you right back.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, but in a light, playful manner. No, it wasn’t as if he couldn’t look at you. It just…mystified you why he looked at you like that. Like you were the most valuable thing he had. It felt almost impossible, after he once owned Sento, which he always went on and on about how he spent three million dollars on that. And that wasn’t counting the other countless possessions he had when he was at the peak of his richness.

And yet, despite your reservations on how much you deserved to be looked at like that, the admiration in his eyes made you reconsider. Johnny was always good at convincing you, he just had a way with words. Or sometimes his charisma was enough, much like in this case. His thumb brushed your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat. 

“Thanks for being my number one fan.” He murmured, pulling back to press a soft kiss onto your forehead. He let out a small laugh, the one that made you feel like you were on top of the world. “I hope you know I’m also your number one fan too.” The actor reminded you, his eyebrows raising to punctuate his point.

You knew that you both were each other’s biggest supporters, and that type of loyalty was priceless.

KENSHI TAKAHASHI

You made sure to place your forehead against Kenshi’s softly, trying to be gentle. You smiled at him, even though he could not see it. This was one of the rare few times Kenshi did not have Sento around, letting himself be the most vulnerable. And those times were always with you. He trusted you with his life, so this step wasn’t too farfetched.

“I wish I could see you.” Kenshi murmured his voice mournful. His hands reached up to cup your face. He knew he could always see you with Sento. But he didn’t want that. He wanted to see you with his own eyes. The swordsman wanted to see you, and your radiant smile in full color. He was grateful for what he gained after his loss, but sometimes he longed for sight just for you.

He supposed he would have to make do with what he could do instead. 

Guiding his hands, you settled them on your face and closed your eyes. It was in these rare few moments that you two had a tradition. You were used to this and almost anticipated this every time he set Sento aside and sat down with you alone. His thumbs slowly rubbed your cheeks, as if marking out his starting place. Then, he finally began to move his hands. It was slow and deliberate, taking time to memorize every detail of your skin. Every winkle, bump, and mark, he wanted to remember it all. 

First his hands moved slightly up. His fingers traced the curves and lines of your ears, refreshing his memory of how they looked by touch alone. Then, it moved higher, noting your hairline with his thumbs. His fingers brushed across your forehead, his thumbs tracing around where your foreheads connected together.

As his fingers reached your closed eyes, they lingered there. No envy coursed through Kenshi’s veins. Instead, only gratefulness swelled throughout the swordsman. He was thankful that you did not also go through the pain of losing your eyes in such a painful way. Leaning forward, he kissed your eyelids with utmost care.

“I want to protect you.” Kenshi whispered, pulling back to reconnect your foreheads. You couldn’t help but smile at his words, knowing that he meant it from the bottom of his heart. His fingers continued to make their way down, tracing your nose before they stopped once again at your lips.

His fingers mapped out the curve of your lips, especially noting the way they curled up to form your fantastic smile. He took a deep breath in, admiring just how soft your lips were underneath his fingertips. By the gods, he could never get over how nice your lips feel. A smile appeared on his own lips as he felt your smile grow.

He always loved your smile. Whether it be seen through Sento or felt through his own hands it warmed his heart. He would do anything to keep it, and you, safe. 

And he knew, having you there in his hands as he pressed a gentle kiss to your smile, you would do the same for him.

SYZOTH

Sleepily, you pressed your forehead against Syzoth’s own forehead. Blearily, you opened your eyes to look at the man who slept beside you. He still looked half asleep as well. You looked him over, admiring the sight of the sleepy Zatteran. It was a sight that only you had the privilege to see. A smile appeared on your face as you raised a hand up to cup his cheek, your thumb rubbed circles to slowly coax him awake. 

Looking over the shoulder of your lover, you noted the sunlight streaming in from behind the parted curtains. It hit Syzoth just perfectly, making him look like he was glowing. For a moment, you wondered if your lover was an angel instead of a Zatteran. You certainly felt blessed enough to have him to believe it. Then, you heard the familiar reptilian grumbles emanate from his chest as his forehead rubbed gently against yours, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

Maybe he was both, you thought.

“Let’s just lie here for a bit more.” Syzoth mumbled, his voice laden with sleep. The arms around your waist were squeezing you tightly now, preventing any hope of climbing out of bed to start your day. It was as if you were a stuffed animal for him. You let out a small drowsy laugh, your fingers now pinching his cheek. As much as you adored sleepy mornings with your Zatteran lover, you knew that he had a very important job as the Empress’ emissary. Both of you had responsibilities to get to.

Syzoth simply huffed in response, not even responding with words to your attempt to wake him up. His hand reached up to grab yours. He pulled your hand off of his cheek and instead intertwined it with yours. The simple gesture made your heart melt. You could practically feel him basking in the warmth that you naturally radiated. You sighed as you opened your eyes a bit more, squeezing his hand in an attempt to pull him from dreamland.

“I promise I will get up soon.” Syzoth told you, his eyes now more open. It was almost as if he were awake the entire time, but he just was seeking an excuse to spend more time with you. Or maybe, that’s exactly what it was. You had a small idea of what the truth actually was.

You stared up into his stunning green eyes, the sight of them alone almost took your breath away. Combined with the gentle way he spoke, along with the way he looked at you, you easily believed him. Then again, you supposed you would believe anything he told you as long as he looked at you that way.

He could tell you that the sun was gone when it was high into the sky, or that the world was going to end within days and you’d believe him. How could you not when he looked at you that way? You sighed with fake reluctance as you relaxed in his embrace.

Okay, maybe you can sleep in a little longer.

KUAI LIANG

Your forehead settled against Kuai Liang and you enjoyed the warmth you felt from the contact. A smile rose to your lips. How lucky you were to be with a man who knew how to control fire. Equally warm hands reached up to cup your face in a gentle, affectionate way. A bit selfishly, you inched closer to him, seeking out his warmth. Your arms wrapped around him, trying your best to pull him as close as you could towards you. He seemed to notice, his hands pulling you just a tiny bit closer towards him as well.

Your heart fluttered at the gesture. Your lover always seemed to know exactly what you needed, even if you said nothing.

It was a cold, cold night. The chill of the night crept into your bones, and only the warmth of your lover seemed to abate it. You relaxed and closed your eyes, basking in the way he was naturally warm. It was always a comforting warmth, never the stifling kind that made you fidget. You always swore that you could fall asleep comfortably as long as Kuai Liang was there to warm you to lull you to bed. 

Sleeping was something the both of you should be doing, and yet you were instead. You were basking in the comfort of being in each other’s arms.

With the mastery of a man who has been training in discipline all of his life, he heated up his hands carefully. It was almost symbolic. The way he held you so carefully was almost like he was cradling a small flame. Kuai Liang made sure to make it hot enough that you would no longer feel the chill of the night air, but not hot enough to make you uncomfortable, not to even mention hurt you.

The last thing he would want to do is hurt you. You were his everything.

His eyes, those dark brown eyes you loved to look so deeply at, stared at your face. While he normally loved to watch you, after all you were his favorite thing to look at, he now watched you carefully to gauge your reaction. He sought out to see any signs of discomfort or pain. He had to make sure you were feeling as comfortable as possible. After all, you deserve nothing less than the best.

“Is this better, love?” Kuai Liang asked, his voice quiet amidst the silence. There were not many things the man craved. It was a thing he prided himself on, how he was considerably humble, but he couldn’t deny how he longed for your approval. Even in the small things. A breath of relief was released from his chest as he watched you slowly nod yes. “Good.”

It was only then that Kuai Liang allowed a rare smile to appear on his lips. Your eyes fluttered open, and you couldn’t help but to internally swoon over the sight. How could you not? It was so precious and rare. You stared at his smile, trying to sear the image into your mind permanently.

Maybe instead of using his powers he should have just smiled instead. It made you feel warm enough.

BI-HAN

You pressed your forehead against Bi-Han’s, his hands drawing you closer to him. It was quiet in his room, even the quiet breaths between you two seemed almost too loud for the peace. And yet you did not complain. How could you? You were having a private moment with the man everyone swore was made of ice. 

“Stay with me.” The man murmurs, his voice breaking the silence. You smiled at his demand, although it was more appropriate to call it a plea. You nodded, not wanting to break the moment of vulnerability you were bestowed. Your hands reached up to cup his face, matching the way he was holding you. He took a deep breath in, as if the next word was a heavy burden. “Please.”

His hands held you in such a specific way. It was careful and loving, but it was in such a way that felt like he was hiding you away from the world. It was not in the way that appeared that he was ashamed, not at all. If anything, Bi-Han was proud to be yours. No, the way he held you was so…private. 

It was as if he were shielding the two of you from nonexistent prying eyes. This was a moment to be shared between the two of you, not anyone else. Not even the world itself was allowed to intrude in such a special and sacred moment. Now that was the way Bi-Han held you.

He held you like a treasure he wanted to keep all to himself.

Gone from his face was the usual stern look he wore. Instead it was replaced with a slightly vulnerable softer look. His eyebrows were not furrowed, instead lifted slightly. His eyes felt warm and full of silent admiration for no one else but you. Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt all too lucky to be blessed with such a sight.

His hands, which were normally frosted over, were merely cool to the touch. It wasn’t uncomfortable, instead the gentle touch with the coolness made your heart flutter. His thumbs traced patterns on your cheeks, as if creating his own little snowflakes on your skin. The normally cold grandmaster’s drop from the eyes he seemed to get lost in a little too often towards your soft and pretty lips.

With a sharp inhale, he lifted his forehead away from yours for a moment. Unable to resist, the cyromancer placed a gentle kiss against your lips. His breath when he pulled away was cool against your lips. 

In this moment of vulnerability, he allowed a small, rare smile to grace his lips.

You swallowed, your eyes zeroing right onto the smile. How rare it was, how precious. How could you not help but gawk and admire? Despite your lover being a man who wielded ice, you found yourself melting all too easily into his gentle touches.

“Thank you for being here.” He murmured again, allowing himself to bare yet another part of his soul to you. Your thumbs traced his cheekbones and he knew the motion was answer enough. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax into your touch.

This was truly a moment that only you two were allowed to witness.

TOMAS VRBADA

As your forehead connected with Tomas’, you heard a sigh of exhaustion leave his lips. His arms draped around you lazily, almost having not enough energy to keep them around you. You let his weight lean onto you, almost letting the man nearly collapse on top of you. Another sigh left his lips as your hands kept his face close. It was almost as if you were keeping him up with your hands alone, at this point.

His eyes were shut, and you could see the hints of exhaustion begin to peek through his perfect face. As much as you knew he loved his new duties for the clan, you also knew he was beginning to hit his limits. Your thumb ran carefully across his face, almost like a little massage. The smallest of smiles appeared on his face at the little gesture.

“Training initiates are hard.” Tomas mumbled, and your heart nearly broke at how utterly tired he sounded. Even despite his exhaustion, you could tell the passion he had for his responsibilities. Still, it worries you no less. You hummed, an acknowledgement of his tiredness. You felt him lean a little more into your touch, allowing himself to indulge within the small moment you were sharing with him.

His arms moved around you a little less languidly, as if he found a second wind within your presence. And it was true, just being around you was enough to give him the strength to do more than he thought he could. Oftentimes when he felt like collapsing he thought of you waiting for him, and it gave him just enough energy to make it back into your arms every single day. 

With another sigh he pulled you closer, a sense of greediness in his actions. You let him, indulging him. His smile grew a bit as he nuzzled your nose against yours slowly. A laugh left your lips at the action, and Toma’s heart couldn’t help but leap at the sound. Just your laugh was enough to re-energize him. Did you know how much you meant to him?

“Thank you for waiting for me.” Tomas said, his voice dripping with all the love he held for you. He knew that sometimes you would wait long stretches of time for him to return after every day ever since he was entrusted with more responsibilities. You never complained, never whined, you just welcomed him back every day with open arms. 

He could ask for nothing more.

With a little chuckle, he squeezed you tightly. It was as if he was trying to show you how much he adored you, just how grateful he was with one giant hug. For that, you rewarded him with a small kiss, featherlight, right above his left eyebrow on his scar. It was a gesture Tomas swooned over. Even if you could not remove the scar itself, you could at least imbue better memories associated with it.

Even if he was given the weight of the world to balance on his shoulders, he would not complain as long as he had you to return to every night.

SHANG TSUNG

Your forehead pressed against Shang Tsung’s and suddenly it felt like the world didn’t matter. Your eyes closed, a sign of trust that Shang Tsung truly didn’t deserve. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, allowing you to pull yourself close to the sorcerer. His arms, meanwhile, draped in a most elegant manner around you.

In these small moments where you closed your eyes, Shang Tsung truly let himself indulge in the beauty that was you. His eyes scanned your face, noting all the features that truly made you one of a kind. All the little things that you perceived as quirks and imperfections seemed only to create a masterpiece for him. For a man who has been condemned to a life of misery by the universe, he was fortunate that it was kind enough to let him meet you.

As your eyes fluttered open, the man had to reel himself back in. His gaze, though still soft, became just the tiniest bit more guarded. His smile which had been so genuine became just a little more precise and practiced. It wasn’t as if he didn’t show any love, far from it. But he had to remember that with the ambitions and plans he held, he had to just be a little more protective of himself. It’d be simply foolish to show just how much he adored you.

Everyday with you, however, the cracks were getting harder and harder to conceal. 

“You look simply amazing my dear.” Shang Tsung complimented, raising a careful hand to stroke your cheek. Despite his compliment, that was not how he felt. He felt more for you, and you had no idea. You were stunning, gorgeous, divine, so much more than just amazing. But even all the words he could think of to describe you was not sufficient enough. For now, just amazing would do.

Your smile, which you blessed him with, had his heart aflutter. Before meeting you, Shang Tsung had little reservations about using others for his own gain. Others were simply an end to a means for him. And yet, with you, the idea of lumping you with the others he was quite ready to dispose of made him feel uneasy.

You were much more than just another stepping stone. Oh, but if the world were to know about his weakness for you, the universe would cast their cruel eyes upon you next. Selfish as the sorcerer was in keeping the truth of how deep his feelings were for you, he also saw it as a blessing. As long as the universe did not scorn you the way it did him, it was enough for now.

Letting the mask facade of how he felt slip just a touch, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. With pride and satisfaction he felt your cheeks heat up just for him. Sometimes it comforted him to know that you felt perhaps a fraction of the love he truly held for you. 

Maybe one day, just maybe, he’d finally let you know just how much power you had over him and his heart.

MILEENA

Your forehead pressed against Mileena’s, and you wished it was enough to drive the whispers away. In the privacy of your shared chambers, it was quiet. It was a nice reprieve from the stress of the throne and the doubters of your lover that you so loathed. Your hands reached up to cup her pretty face that you adored, looking into her eyes.

A smile was on her face. It was a weary one. You knew while Mileena strove to be the best Empress she could be, and took great pride in it, she often was tired by the end of the day because of it. Even if it was not physically, the mental toll of being on top of such a throne was tough work. You did not envy the burden she shouldered, but there were times you wished you could share the burden of it just so she can rest a little bit better.

You knew you could not, so you did whatever else you could instead.

You moved your forehead away to press a few kisses to her forehead, wishing so desperately that it would abate the worries of doubt that were planted in her head. If not that, you hoped that your kisses at least passed along some of your own energy so she could power through. You wondered, for a moment, if it was possible to do that. Your thumbs traced her cheekbones, and you wondered silently to yourself how you were so lucky to become her lover. You nearly missed the adoring gleam in her eyes, and it was a look that made your breath catch.

“I’ll prove those doubters wrong, don’t worry.” Your empress promised, her voice fueled with the determination of a woman who has been scorned. You smiled, knowing she had been able to read you and your thoughts like a book. To be so in sync with your lover was a blessing you were ever thankful for. As an acknowledgement of her words, you gave her another kiss, this time pressing it upon the scar that went through her eyebrow.

You never doubted Mileena’s prowess. She had so much drive, how could you not? And yet, if you could, you would do anything to silence the doubters. How dare they question her rule, how could they not see  the wonderful woman who was born to rule? You often told yourself, to calm yourself down, that they were merely jealous of your lover. 

“There is nothing more I need than you to be by my side, dearest.” Mileena told you, her fingers tracing your cheek. Your heart skipped a beat, and you knew in that moment that if you could, you would stay by her side to always cheer her on. She didn’t even need to ask you.

You grabbed her hands, intertwining them with yours. You squeezed them tightly, trying to pour all the encouragement that you could not find enough words for in that one action. She returned the squeeze, a content sigh leaving her lips as her smile grew. 

Maybe you couldn’t help with every trouble she had, but you could at least make her smile…and maybe that was just enough.

KITANA

You pressed your forehead against Kitana’s brow, and finally you felt your worries dissipate. It was hard to be the lover of a Supreme Commander. Every day you feared for your lover’s life. It was not as if you doubted her prowess on the battlefield. It was far from that, you thought she was the best fit for Supreme Commander after all. Even if she was the best fit, you sometimes selfishly wished that someone else would take her place so she could stay safe.

You have never confessed this selfish little secret to her.

It was just that…war was cruel. You’ve heard and known the horrors of war and how death doesn’t discriminate. Sometimes accidents happen, or a death can come out of nowhere. You feared that one day it might take the best thing you have in your life. 

But now you didn’t need to worry, because now she was back and in your arms. You let out a sigh as you pressed your forehead a little more towards her. Meanwhile, your fingers traced the injuries she had suffered from the skirmishes she had gone through. You noted how the bandages from the medics were fresh. Your heart squeezed at the sight of them. If only civil war was not looming over Outworld, then she would not have to sacrifice herself out there on the battlefield. 

“It’s okay, I’m safe.” Kitana whispered, dragging you out of your worrying mind. Her fingers traced your cheek, and she looked at you with a gentle gaze. You marveled at her ability to whisk away your worries. Looking into her eyes alone calmed you down and made you feel like everything was alright. You wished you could do the same for her. Her other hand intertwined with yours, squeezing it gently. You noted how her hands were still remarkably soft for a woman who goes to war. A soft smile appeared on her face, and you could not help the way that your heart raced.

Words caught in your throat, and you found yourself unable to express the utter amount of love you felt for the princess. How could you express these overwhelming feelings that threatened to consume you? You figured it was impossible to ever express just how much she meant to you with words alone. Instead, you moved to press a few kisses on her injuries. If only you had the ability to heal her wounds just like that. Did she know you would do that for her? A light laugh left Kitana’s lips at your actions, and you swooned over the sound.

“I appreciate you.” She said, her voice light with the remnants of the laughter she had blessed upon you. Her hand squeezed yours again to punctuate her point. You smiled at her, wanting to ingrain the sight of her being happy and by your side forever into your mind. Your thumb rubbed small circles on her hand.

Maybe she had to go to war, it was a harsh reality you’ve accepted, but as long as she returned to be in your arms…that would be enough.

ASHRAH

Your forehead pressed against Ashrah’s, and the music in the background made the moment feel just perfect. A wide smile appeared on your face as you guided your lover through a slow dance. You watched with joy as your lover’s eyes were wide with admiration as you led her through the dance. You wondered for a moment if she knew how much you adored her in return. Surely she didn’t, how could she? The both of you swayed back and forth, enjoying the intimate moment.

“There was nothing like this back in the Netherrealm.” Ashrah marveled, a smile that made your heart melt on her lips. It was the very same smile she would give you every time you showed her the joys of Earthrealm. You could never tire of the sight, and you knew you’d do anything to see it over and over again.

That was exactly why you introduced her to the idea of slow dancing. You knew she would have probably never experienced anything like this. And you were right. You were honored to be her first ever dance partner. The twinkle in her eye showed that she was just as happy to have you guiding her through this dance.

Together with the memories you formed together, you knew she was creating more and more of a home within this realm. You hoped that you were included in her idea of home.

A laugh left your lips as you pulled her close, craving more contact. Despite her dexterity in combat, she was not used to dancing. Chuckles left the both of you as you stumbled a bit, tripping over each other’s feet. Luckily, she did not fall. Instead, you held her tightly. You gripped her hip tightly, making sure she was steady.

“Forgive me, I wasn’t expecting that.” Ashrah apologized after her laughter died down. You found you could only grin and shake your head at her apology. You two were out here to create memories and have fun, not to dance perfectly for anyone else. She could step on your toes every few seconds and you could care less. Her laughter alone made up for any mistakes she made. “Thank you for showing me these Earthrealm customs.”

Anytime, you thought. Honestly, you would do anything for her. It was hard to believe she was a demon with a heart as pure as her’s. You didn’t care though. Her past as a demon was often a source of confusion and concern for others, but never for you. All that mattered was who she was now, and she was simply fantastic.

“I think I quite like dancing.” Ashrah commented, pressing a light kiss upon your cheek. Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at her with eyes full of adoration. How could you not swoon over her? You returned the favor, pressing a few light kisses all over her face. You couldn’t help it. Another melodic laugh left her lips.

Yeah, you think you like dancing too.

HAVIK

Your forehead bumped against Havik’s and you enjoyed the moment of serenity that was brought with it. You watched as your lover’s eyes closed, a rare moment in which he allowed himself to relax. You couldn’t help but to feel honored by the small gesture. He was always fighting, striving to fight for what his ideals were, but around you the man felt no need.

You eyed his scars, the ones he had gotten as a slave. Carefully, you reached out to brush your fingers against his scars. The care you put into the touch was not necessary, you knew Havik was strong and a simple brush against them would not break the man. Yet it felt it was necessary, These were reminders of his harsh past, a memory of why he was out there, fighting.

Honestly, all of him was a canvas. You knew very well that your lover was capable of healing his wounds ever since he met Quan Chi. Had he wanted, you knew he could repair the wounds he had gained through all of his life. But he didn’t. His body was his story. Every bump, bruise, cut that left a mark became like a stroke of paint. You couldn’t help but adore how he kept his imperfections. Not many would.

“Most don’t realize why I keep those around.” Havik grunted. There was a sense of frustration in his tone, no one else but you understood the vision he saw for the future, let alone understood the way he thought. You knew though. Even if he were to forget everything about you, he knew he would recognize your understanding from the reverence you carried when you traced the past injuries he wore like a badge. Only others who understood his ideals for the future would do the same.

You also knew that he thought it looked more fearsome. A burnt and scarred man was much more striking than a normal man. Your fingers trailed up his body, mapping out the locations of his injuries with your touch. Then, you let your fingers rest on his jawline right below where his flesh turned into exposed gums and teeth.

“You understand me.” Your lover said, his voice filled with the same amount of admiration for you as it did when he spoke of his vision for Seidou. You couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat as you realized that fact. You bumped your forehead gently against his again. Seeing as he had no lips to kiss, the two of you had settled on forehead bumping instead.

You felt Havik raise a hand, his touch gentle as it gripped your chin. He wasn’t known for gentle touches or gestures, but you were the exception. Softly, he bumped his forehead against yours again. Then, he rubbed it back and forth affectionately. You were, perhaps, the only person in the world he would allow himself to be this quaint with.

It was all for you, the one who he considered to be a true partner.

CASSIE CAGE

Your forehead settled against Cassie’s, and suddenly you were disinterested in the movie in the background. Instead, you were far too preoccupied with the sight of your lover and how radiant she looked with the colors of the television shining against her skin. How was it that every type of color seemed to compliment her perfectly?

“I thought we were supposed to be watching a movie.” Cassie teased, her eyebrows raising as she sent you a playful grin. She was a hypocrite though, as her attention was more on you rather than the movie she had picked out. Her arm was slung around your shoulders and you were cuddled close together on the couch.

Today was one of her rare days off. Ever since she got promoted, she’s been busier than ever. And yet, there were moments you two managed to find and relax together. Tonight was supposed to be movie night, you let her pick anything she wanted…as long as it wasn’t one of her dad’s films. She rolled her eyes at your little stipulation, but agreed. Your lover saw enough of her dad at work.

Even with your little agreement, you found yourself entranced with Cassie more. I mean, how could you not be? Her smile just seemed to be more eye-catching than anything Hollywood could produce. You were so entranced by her, in fact, that you didn’t notice the hand that snuck up to pinch your cheek. You jolted in surprise, letting out a small laugh.

“Thought I lost you there!” Your lover giggled, her hand now cupping your cheek instead. Her thumb gently rubbed over the part she had pinched, as if to soothe it. She let out a small sigh as she moved to nuzzle your cheek before giving it an affectionate smooch. “You know, Grandma Carlton has been dying to meet you.” She confessed, her voice going a touch sentimental.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt excitement course through your veins. Has Cassie been telling good things about you to her grandmother? Upon seeing your giddy expression, she squeezed your shoulder with the hand that laid upon it. 

“Hey, have I ever told you how much I adore you?” Cassie asked, and you felt like you were falling all over again. Cassie must have taken acting lessons at one point, because she knew exactly how to make you swoon as if she were the lead in a movie. Her eyes glimmered with affection as she pressed another kiss to your cheek. 

A laugh that revitalized your soul came from your lover as you returned the favor and gave her a soft kiss back. In the midst of her laughter, you vaguely heard her mention how you were both definitely missing out on the plot. You didn’t care though, you were too busy admiring the real beauty in front of you.

Who needed movies? All you needed was Cassie, and you had a feeling she didn’t mind missing out too just for you.

[icingred]

can you tell me about lore of Reverse Cookie run au?

white lily cookie,Pure vanilla cookie,dark cacao cookie,hollyberry cookie and Golden cheese cookie (You may pick any ancient as youre choice)

MAANN I LOST MY ACCOUNT OF COOKIE RUN KINGDOM I JUST HAS WHITE LILY COOKIE,AND NOW MY ACCOUNT IS GONEEEE

(TW:grammer english suck to me)

I'm SO SORRY TO WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR ACCOUNT NOO 😭

(Have an uncolored ver. Because I'm still unhappy with the color palettes I have rn so uh.. Also beware that this AU will go through changes because it depends on the canon storyline :dies:)

~ Reverse AU Ancients ~

There were once five great heroes who were granted the lights to protect this world. The light of Truth, Passion, Resolution, Abundance, and Freedom. These heroes used their mighty powers to spread peace and prosperity all over Earthbread.

However, that light was soon put out and overshadowed by darkness. One night, a red moon rose over four Soul jams, cursing them with devastating results. And the heroes no longer lived up to their names. Instead of the peace they've sworn to maintain, they brought destruction, havoc, and fear.

Only one hero managed to keep herself safe from the moon. Yet her name was completely erased by the evil four.

The new beasts:

The red moon has not only infected the Soul Jams with the darkness, but has also cursed the heroes themselves. Their harm varies for each Ancient.

Pure Vanilla Cookie

“Let the new, darker Earthbread be born!”

The bright cookie, who once possessed the light of Truth, was cursed to see whoever dared to say his name out loud. Horror and bitterness replaced the comfort and warmth that he exuded.

He remained to cherish his friendship like he always did, just in a different way

Dark Cacao Cookie

“Enter my realm, where darkness protects and glory awaits! Hahaha!”

A prideful cookie with the light of Resolution soon became the sinister, apathetic shadow that loomed above his kingdom of Cacao. After the dark night, his dough began to slowly rot away as though he lived.

Although his wish for protecting Cookiekind perished, his love for heels still hasn't

Hollyberry Cookie

“I must prove I’m better than they think”

Hollyberry Cookie was no longer recognized as the gentle hero with the Light of Passion but as the beast of hopelessness and sloth. She was cursed with constant hunger. If given the chance, she'd devour anything.

She believes eating cookies will make her a half-god who's above all others, since the witches, the gods, created cookies to eat.

Golden Cheese Cookie

“Obey those above you and you shall be rewarded”

Generosity and gratitude gifted her the heroic light of Abundance, which soon led to a darker path to destruction.

The strict queen still loved anything that glittered, but the moon's curse blinded her to an eternity, preventing her from seeing light.

She spends most of the time away from her Kingdom, leaving the job up to the Golden Guardians

~~

No WL for now haha

[holybibly]

This is a little preview of my new series and yes, bunnies, this is a whole series from me. I hope everyone is ready for an erotic dystopia?

Decadent dystopian erotica with majestic dragons - second teaser for today

Glass House Ateez x reader

Everything changed in an instant. 

The king was dead, and thousands of dragons took to the burning skies. The old world was over, and a 'new age' was in the making—an age of gods and monsters. 

A thousand years ago, the fires of revolution blazed across the face of the world. Dragons—the creatures of ancient legends and children's fairy tales—reduced the once prosperous world to ashes in a matter of minutes. Rivers of black blood coursed through the veins of the streets, flooding the cities and lands in their wake. The sky was a blaze of purple flames and electric shocks. The church was reduced to rubble, and the royal family was executed in a public display. In the eyes of the dead, the unspoken horror in front of these majestic creatures remained forever, and in the sparks of the flames, they shimmered like precious sea stones. 

There was a bitter smell of burning flesh and ash in the air. It was the smell of dreams on fire—the smell of a future in decay. 

It was the beginning of the end of ancient life. The beginning of a new world. The Age of Immortality has begun. 

All the legends turned out to be true; dragons did exist. They had always lived close to us, lurking in the velvety darkness of the night, waiting for the hour. Waiting for the hour to come when the power would be in their hands. Dangerous, unbridled, wild creatures of magic and the elements, predators at the top of the food chain. They had come into the world to rule, not to obey, and now, at long last, their time had come. 

The world was at anarchy. Dragons were killing, raping, and enslaving races and lands as if it were an amusing child's game. They drank blood as black as the night from golden bowls, and they ate our succulent flesh as our bones cracked under the pressure of their razor-sharp teeth. They would hold orgies in the midst of the torn corpses and revel in their omnipotence. Those were the days of darkness. A time of terror, when the very word danger was a synonym for life itself. And so it went for several years, until the ultimate power fell into the clutches of the deadly Children of the Night, the oldest of all dragons. 

The majestic Hala. 

Eternal as the moon itself and deadly as the uncharted depths of the ocean, they inspired burning terror in all who encountered them. To their people, they were nothing more than a myth, a legend written on fragments of tablets. Forefathers, ancestors—they had hundreds of names, but each one inspired more fear than the last. They were predators among predators, bristling with animal dominance and primal, unbridled sexuality. They exuded power and sinfulness. They were the ones who defined the rules and set the boundaries of what was permissible. 

With the arrival of Hala, a new phase in the history of the world began. 

Humanity was enslaved, and dragons became the dominant species. As the years went by, the human population began to decline rapidly, with fewer and fewer humans, until "our" species reached the status of gatherers. Angelicus Nova, or Angel Stars, was what we came to be called. Human existence took on a strange religious orientation; we were worshipped, idolized, and adored, but despite all this, humans remained nothing more than a rare exchangeable currency, nothing more than an expensive trinket that was prestigious to own and could be broken with a flick of the wrist. 

The human being also became one of the ways in which money flowed endlessly. These institutions were known as "glass houses." Gateway to heaven. They would be the equivalent of strip clubs or luxury escort houses if you and I were in the old world. The rules were the same: "Look, but don't touch." Girls and boys were expensive pieces of family jewelry that rested under the glass of fancy display cases. Our masters showed us off to the greedy eyes of the world with all the pride and ostentation that dragons have. 

In spite of their possessive, animalistic nature, dragons were nothing more than swaggering bastards with inflated egos and delusions of grandeur.

Humans could be anything as long as dragons owned us—a muse, an innamorata, a nymph, an angel, a siren, or even a goddess—but like everything else in the universe, we came at a price. 

The 'glass houses' were only in operation at night. During the day, all the 'jewels' rested and tidied up after tiring hours of contemplation of the world through the bluish glass of the display window. Nice, obliging workers in starched white collars were busy with the cleaning, scrubbing the baroque decorations of the vetrines with great care from a mixture of sperm, drool, and other secretions. You looked at it with an almost reverent awe, finding it disgusting to the point of bordering on the pornographically beautiful. 

You could see it as real art—crude and original, but art nonetheless. There was something particularly mesmerizing about it, almost hypnotic, about the way the thick, pearly sperm dripped slowly from the golden flowers. 

Of all the glass houses that ever existed, "Eros" was the most beautiful. It was the jewel in the crown of the New Empire, and you were its goddess. There were rumors that the Hala themselves were customers of 'Eros'. But rumors were only rumors. If they were ever to visit your 'home', you would know about it, for they would be where all men ended up—at your feet. 

You were content with the life that you were living. There was no tragedy and no misery, no abusive family or abusive peers, no bullying and harassment at school—no, you had it all great. You were born here at Eros—the growth and blossoming of a beautiful flower. Your whole life has been within the confines of glass rooms and silk sheets, but unlike your dreamy friends, you weren't in need of rescue. 

Your name is Aphrodite. Born in the radiance of the Creator. A goddess among goddesses, carved out of marble and mother of pearl. Your hair falls to the ground in waterfalls of pearls and silk. Your eyes are the eerie silvery moonlight in half-darkness, the deadly attraction of jewels in velvet lashes. Your lips are the succulent, juicy, forbidden fruit that every man would like to taste. The pain of your kiss is going to be the last pleasure of life. 

You are not a delicate, pure lily; you are not a passionate, fiery rose; you are a narcissus reveling in the crystal of mountain waters. You love yourself to pain, to death, to despair, and in all the New Empire, there was none more beautiful than you. 

Original sin. The primordial beauty. You are desire in all it manifests and begins to manifest. 

The naked goddess, clad in snow-white fur like armor, is the goddess of love and ecstasy. 

You've never been conceptualized; you've always been enigmatic. 

You have been the object of worship. Your beauty has been sung in songs, and your love has been professed in a thousand languages. "Eros" was the site of visits from the mightiest and most powerful dragons of the New Empire. They all crawled at your feet, stroking their thick, greased with their cum cocks, greedily as they burned your skin with their golden gaze. They licked the deceptively thin glass of your display case with their long, sometimes split tongues, leaving muddy streaks on the perfect surface of the glass. The mighty and great dragons, unaccustomed to humiliation and submission, urinated like bitches in heat at the mere sight of your bare shoulders and long neck covered with diamond serpents, their eyes shining like stars in the twilight of your silken chambers. They would drip their sperm onto the icy marble floor until it collected in small, glistening puddles, and then they would lick it up as if it were the sweetest nectar in the world. Ambrosia in the truest sense. 

Behind the glass walls of Eros, they were dominators, predators, and the rulers of this world through fear and pain, but here in this garden of Eros, they were nothing more than whores—shameless and needy. Slaves to your beauty, desperate to please you. 

Their moans are always a delight to you. The moaning of your name. 

The scenarios have been repeated to the point of being painful. Sugar-sweet subs with outstretched tongues and pretty, tear-stained faces. Dominant alphas with sweat-glistening skin and eyes rolling with pleasure.

Dragons fucked other dragons; orgies and bacchanals were staged; they were subjugated and subdued. They growled, moaned, squealed, and purred; some were fucked like a port slut, and some were licked for hours until they passed out from hyperstimulation. Some masturbated in front of your window, enjoying the fact that you were there to watch them, and there were others who would spend their heat and ruts in front of your window. 

The list could go on and on: bondage, darkphilia, breeding, voyeurism, humiliation, objectification, and breathing games.

You were saturated with this game. 

There were so many ways in which you could spend your evenings in the company of others. It was all designed to excite you, to make you beg, and to make you plead. Each of your visitors secretly hoped that one day you would strip off your luxurious furs and assume the position that was right for them—submissive, naked, and ready to accept whatever it was they were giving you. 

It was an act of power; it was a position of strength, but here you were the strength. You were power. 

No one would ever have the temerity to lay a hand on you. Goddesses are always untouchable.

You entertained yourselves by teasing them, mocking them, and fanning their flames of desire and passion. Dragons are creatures that are very dependent on their emotions and their desires; they feed on their power and their magic, but when they do not get what they want, it burns them from the inside; it breaks and crumbles them, like a cookie that has been bitten.

It was delicious, but you were full. Thank you, next.

You never denied that you were a sadist; you had a taste for pain; maybe it was a kind of revenge for the destruction of your family; maybe not. They came to you for that feeling; the dragons wanted to be punished and tamed, and the feeling of pain made them cum harder. As they say, Orgasm is a little death.

You could play this game for hours on end, letting the fur expose your boobs and pressing it against the cold glass as you went. It was magnificent—tall and plump, as if it had been milked with milk—with pink nipples the color of magnolia blossoms. There was something animalistically seductive about it—an appeal to their natural reproductive instincts—that evil thought of possible pregnancy. Their whimpering made you laugh, and the sounds they made were so sweet—desperate pleas and long, long moans.

"Let me taste you; I want it so much. I was a good boy, such a good boy."

There were other days when you would let your hands run over the bare skin of your thighs, leaving long red streaks that stood in erotic contrast to the silk of your pale skin. You smeared the clear, shimmering liquid of your juices along the line of your neck, in that most exciting place for dragons, where their teeth locked in a mating mark, as if branding their mate in the most perverse of affiliations.

"Tell me I belong to you; please say it. I'll do anything you don't want. Own me, use me; I want to be your toy.".

Sometimes other girls would be brought into your shop window to put on an erotic show. Exquisite nymphs and rosy-cheeked Lolitas would explore your tender skin with their soft, wet tongues, leaving traces of hungry kisses, until at last their lips would close on the most intimate spot between your thighs.

On days like this, the whole of 'Eros' would shake with furious, jealous growls and thunderclaps. Dragons were terrible possessive, and even though the "scene" itself would excite the hell out of them, the jealousy would burn through their veins from the inside out, like a deadly poison.

"You belong to me, and only to me. You are mine, mine and mine alone. I will tear this girl apart, and we will fuck in her blood until there are no more conscious thoughts left in your pretty little head, until you remember nothing but my name.".

But no matter what their words were to you, you didn't have a care in the world. Nobody would dare touch the goddess, and if they tried, they would not only lose their hands but also get killed.

That was the law of the New Empire—all the people who were left were protected and sheltered in an incredible way. There were very few of you, and if there had been any harm to even one of you, it would have been a real tragedy.   Only once has there been a breach of that law, and the consequences have been terrible. No one wants a repeat.

In any case, your life in the Garden of Eros was a pleasure. Maybe it was some kind of perverse way of looking at the world and love, but you didn't have any desire to change anything; everything was great.

Have you ever wondered if there might be another version of you out there? Perhaps, somewhere in a parallel universe, humans would still exist as the dominant species, their countries and cities would be prosperous, and you would be living a different life—a normal one. There, in that other universe, that other Aphrodite—no, not Aphrodite—you would have an ordinary name, not a divine one, something cute, something sweet, and always with a hint of shyness. It is probably there that you would have experienced your first love, that you would dream of a prince who would take you off into the sunset, and that "and they lived happily ever after." You would have been embarrassed to talk about sex, and you would have blushed horribly if his fingers had been in your knickers. But you weren't her. And she wasn't you. You don't want to be saved from sinning; you want to become one of them. You want to experience forbidden pleasures. You want to subjugate and dominate.

You're not in need of a prince; you've already had a king, or rather, eight kings. The day will come when everything you have ever dreamed of will come true, even if you haven't met any of the Hala yet.

You want power; you want to sit on a golden throne in a castle high up in the sky, and so it shall be. They say that love is a great strength, but they fail to mention that it is also the greatest weakness. And you, like no one else, know how to use it to your advantage.

This is not a pink fairy tale. There are no rainbow ponies pooping rainbows and eating fairy dust. No, this is a rotten world. It is full of debauchery, violence, and sex. You could say, "Come and rescue me. I'm waiting for  you," but no, you have to rephrase it as "I'm waiting for you to crawl on your knees and lick my heels, and from that moment on, I will own you.".

Yes, that sounds much better.

It's already eight o'clock; time to get ready; you're leaving soon.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the most famous glass house in the New Empire. Tonight we have wet aesthetic cunnilingus as our main course, and for dessert, a mind-blowing orgasm. You have a choice of starters. Drinks are on the house. We accept cash and checks. If you wish, you can leave a tip for one of our "jewels.".

Our hope is that your time at Eros will be an unforgettable experience.

[anxiouseldergod]

An au set long, long ago in Twisted Wonderland..

Back when laws surrounding magic were more restrictive, when mages were seen as dangerous and untrustworthy. Long before any schools like Night Raven College ever existed.

Imagine being a witch, living deep in the woods, running an unknown little bookshop in the front of your house.

You've gotten many questions on why you would set up shop there, usually by the confused adventurer or slightly suspicious knight. You always answer the same. You like how quiet it is, book shops aren't supposed to be loud you know.

Yes, a cute little store nestled in the middle of a dark patch of forest. That's all. Or that's how it seems, anyway.

There's a door on the back wall, in a gap between two large shelves, overflowing with books, mostly on magic. (What? Magic is only illegal to perform, not read about.)

Several customers have gotten curious about this door before. It's normally locked, but the one time it wasn't, one managed to open it.

... Just for it to be a boring, dusty, storage closet. They should have expected that, really, what else would it be?

They close the door, walking away with their curiosity satisfied but still feeling disappointed.

They day goes by and eventually its closing time. You lock the entrance, keys jingling as you put them away.

You approach the door in the back, sighing in relief that your spell had worked. Though, it always does.

You open the door once more, the room behind has disappeared.

Instead of a dingy storage closet, the door leads into the back of your shop.

Yes, this area is your favorite. This is your magic shop.

It's much more spacious here than your little bookstore in the front. Large shelves line the walls, packed to the brim with shiny or glowing crystals, sparkling potions, ancient grimoires, and other various magical items and materials.

Due to the laws banning the practice of magic without official permission, which is impressively difficult to get, you have gone to great lengths to conceal this place.

Spells to hide it from prying eyes, spells to make the building appear smaller than it is from the outside, even more work to hide the magic energy within.

Setting up in the middle of the forest is yet another way to keep your secrets. A magical forest, to be precise.

The magic energy in this forest runs thick, making it the perfect places to gather most of your materials.

However, it also means there are a great number more monsters in this area, as they flock to the magical energy. Because of this, most of your customers are adventurers, this is good.

Most adventurers have broken their fair share of laws too, so if they were to think about ratting you out, they usually think again.

Though, sometimes, you get a customer who doesn't wear the same confused look as those passersby. Someone who knows exactly what they're here for, and it isn't anything in the front of your shop.

Whether pointed your way by your friends in the cities nearby, or having heard about you through other means, they all ask the same question;

"Is this The Moon's Alcove?"

You always when they say that. It's the name of your shop, your magic shop specifically. But it's also a secret code, one passed along through the underground network of magic users, like yourself.

You can't help but get excited, everytime someone says it you know you're getting a new customer. Yours are always so terribly interesting.

First piece of writing posted, yay! Sorry for any grammar errors, I tried to fix them all but it's late and I'm not confident I didn't miss any lol

My idea for this au is the customers are the twst boys! Feel free to send requests/musings/thoughts on what you think their roles could be or how their first meetings with the reader would go!!

I came up with this au idea a while ago and if I don't expand on it I might explode

[itsabouttimex2]

PRIMAL MOON BULLFAM SOUNDS SO GOOD.. but also since their minds get muddied during the moon do they remember everything that happened afterwards? or is there just suddenly going to be a human in the fortress PIF is attached to? Not to mention how bad MK would feel after the moon..

Primal Moon

Bullfam Drabble Monkiefam Headcanons

Okay, so… when it comes to post-viridescence memories, there’s a definite ‘muddled’ state of recollection, sort of like how you act after drinking. Some people will remember just about everything, others have a foggy haze to sort through, and then there’s always people who wake up totally hungover with no memories of the last week.

Demon Bull King is the definite final category. He wakes up covered in fresh scars and blood, exhausted to the very bone. All signs of a successful hunt. And there’s a thrumming satisfaction that rumbles his chest, knowing that he’s just as powerful now as he was before, if not more so.

It takes a moment for the bull to compose himself, stretching out a newly aching body. Bandages are wrapped along his arms and the length of his chest, tightly wrapped and tied at the end with bows.

Red Son’s work, no doubt. He always got weepy when his father came back from the hunt. Whenever on end he would tend to his father’s wounds, his hands shaking as tears of worry filled his eyes.

And speaking of the boy, the taurine demon can feel his son’s fiery form, nestled into a thin layer of purple…

Fur.

His fur was regrowing, finally.

That wasn’t too unusual- the Primal Moon‘s impact was more than simply mental- it also sparked physical changes of many kinds.

Fur growing thicker, hair growing longer, horns sprouting from your scalp, skin hardening to thick hide, teeth sharpening to fangs, nails hardening to talons, pupils thinning to slits.

The Demon Bull King had seen so many of these, and lived through a few himself. More than a few times had those enhanced attributes won tipped the scales towards his favor in a fight.

As he sits up slowly, the euphoric agony of a new scar jolts across his waist. The demon gazes down to see his family nestled in his cupped hands, cushioned by the newly grown fur. Red Son fitfully clings to one of his fingers like a child, his sleep wracked with nightmares. Princess Iron Fan laying across his palm on her back, her countenance dignified even in sleep.

And… one little newcomer. You’re curled into a tight ball, wrapped up underneath Red Son’s torn long-coat. You’re squished as far into his son’s back as possible, drinking in the warmth he offers. One of your hands is enfolded in Iron Fan’s own, her grip tight.

One of the king’s eyebrow raises sharply in confusion, his brain still muddled by slowly fading viridescence. Were it not for the rest of his family resting soundly around you, he would have considered dumping you onto the ground below.

But he wouldn’t dare risk the health of his wife, nor that of his son.

So; reluctantly, the Demon Bull King settles back down and waits for the sun to rise, feeling the last remnants of ancient bestial instincts fade from his mind.

It’s his progeny who wakes first, though- some few hours after the taurine demon has drifted back to sleep, Red Son slowly opens his eyes.

The Primal Moon has a varied impact on everyone, shifted bodies and minds unequally. No two people are impacted the same way

Red has always hated it- being reduced to a little blubbering heap, desperate for warmth and affection.

Every year he proclaimed that this time would be different, and every year he was wrong.

No matter how hard he pushed to stay strong, Red Son was soon reduced to desperate whimpers for affection and praise, clinging to his parents desperately.

And finally, Princess Iron Fan had decided to look outside the family for a solution, giving up on potions or mental wards that never did more than barely dampen the problem.

So she had gone and snatched up a cute little mortal slinking around in the alleyways, catching you as you went to restock your family’s fridge halfway just a day into the week.

One moment you had been trudging across the paved stone and muttering about how your family was incredibly stupid to have not prepared better and been better with their resources, the next you had been spirited away to a demonic fortress.

A powerful gust of wind had blown you into the side of a half-taurine demon, who had been rubbing at his fresh horns and whimpering.

“This will be your new sibling, Red Son.”

Then she was gone in a whirlwind, left to tend to her own affairs as the demon clung to you and begged for attention.

It had been a lot to take in at the time, thrown suddenly into the affairs of a brand new family, expected to play caretaker to a fiery ‘sibling’.

Adjusting hasn’t been too awful- you simply doted on the red-haired demon and tended to his horns, and he laid his head on your lap and begged you not to stop. His father out hunting, his mother busy with her own matters, Red Son had wholeheartedly accepted you as his own family, in spite of the strange circumstances.

And Princess Iron Fan had quickly taken notice. You were useful, a gentle and kind soul who took pity on her boy, of all things.

There was no hatred or spite from your end, merely confusion and worry. Some genuine concern for Red Son. The most negative reaction they got from you was fear, and you mostly reserved that for the Bull Clones.

And… she grew mildly attached in her own stoic way, only realizing it when she watches you cook something filling and comforting for the fiery demon. You had left portions for her and her husband too, boxing them up for later convenience.

Even if you were a squishy little human with a little too big of a heart… you were admirably kind.

So, why shouldn’t she keep you around? Not only were you surprisingly mature and put-together, but you aren’t all too concerned about running back home to your parents or siblings. Nor were you desperate to escape their clutches.

Clearly, you were in no rush to return. Maybe you didn’t care for your blood.

So be it.

You could be part of their family, instead.

(I’M SO SORRY ABOUT THE SPELLING MISTAKES IT WAS LATE AND I WAS TIRED AND I ALREADY HAD TO REDO THEM TWICE)

Sun Wukong is the standout yandere in all of Primal Moon (except for maybe Azure), having an obsession for; in order of severity, Y/N, Macaque, and MK.

Y/N has to call him Bàba/爸爸, no exceptions. If they deny this demand, then the Monkey King smothers them in forced affection. It’s easy to think you can continually refuse his order since he’s not actually laying hands on you, right? It’s not like you’re being hurt. But eventually it’s the sixteenth hour straight that you’ve been sitting on his lap, getting forehead kisses and hair grooming without a single word or noise from the simian. They’ll crack eventually, needing food or water or simple audial stimulation.

Calls you ‘cub’ constantly, but might spring a ‘hun’ in softer or more lucid moments. MK is still ‘bud’, obviously, but he’ll occasionally get one of the first two monikers. And Macaque; though he doesn’t want a nickname or any doting, receives a simple ‘Mac’. If there comes a time that he’s tending to the Six-Eared Demon’s wounds, Wukong might just drop a ‘Xiandi’. Secretly, Macaque really likes that.

Group naps are a must. Everyone squishes together to fit in his lavish bed/a sunny patch of lush grass, all of you pressed flush to one another in a warm little heap.

Grooming. So much grooming. Pulling leaves and twigs from your hair as he hums, snacking on bugs and salt crystals he pulls from your hair/fur. Then he shifts around and turns his back it you, expecting the same care.

Macaque isn’t immune to the moon’s call… but he’s still pretty in control of himself throughout the week. The worst symptoms he faces are overeating, stereotypies, and mild possessiveness. Lots of gorging himself when things get stressful, stuffing down the sweetest things he can find. He paces his feet raw and plucks strands of fur, or beats his tail into the ground and pulls on his ears.

Because of the above, Wukong is severely protective of him during the week, frequently checking in on him. Any wounds are promptly cleaned and patched, then he’s resigned to an hour or so of TLC after he’s all bandaged up. The Great Sage may well resort to restrictive clothing in a well-intentioned attempt to prevent further damage.

Poor guy is always trying to advance his rank in the troop, even though he’s not entirely sure why he wants to climb ranks instead of escape. The answer is that the moon is influencing his mind.

Y/N is grateful for his care during the first Primal Moon they spend with the Monkiefam, and gives him an audiobook player to repay his kindness. He uses the hell out of that little machine during any further viridescence-born anxiety fits, shedding many of his harmful behaviors.

MK; the poor guy, has lost his mind. It used to be that he was one of the ‘normal ones’, hiding out in his room and the noodle shop all through the week.

When he was just a kid, Pigsy would stock the fridge with lots of noodle bowls for the kid to reheat and snack on, and more than a few sugary drinks that the kiddo wouldn’t normally have access to. Lots of coloring books and blank papers and crayons, ensuring that he’d keep busy. And seven full changes of clothes left on his drawer, each outfit chosen to be cozy. And then he’d endure a full week just about all by himself, watching his surrogate father down four bowls of noodles and dose himself with sleeping pills.

Spending most of the week alone as your guardian renders himself comatose, and when you’re so young, too… Primal Moon!MK has definite separation anxiety born from this event. And, speaking in Pigsy’s defense- this is about the best he can do for everyone. He will not risk hurting the kiddo, won’t risk hurting Tang, won’t risk damaging his restaurant in a fit of rage.

So MK’s only experience with the event is hiding away and trying to distract himself with art, fighting back sniffles as he draws pictures of happier days, him and Tang and Pigsy holding hands and smiling. Those photos always end up stained with tears by the time he done drawing, but Pigsy hangs them up in the restaurant anyways.

When his true self comes to light in Season Four… he’s left totally unprepared and has literally no preparation or acclimation to the lunar cycle. Frog in a pot, I suppose. No acclimation to something bad makes your reaction to it worse.

Poor kiddo.

[mlmxreader]

Wood Carvings | Kili x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Kili

15 "As long as I'm with you, I'm happy"

18 "You don't have to say anything" ❞

: ̗̀➛ You and Kili get to have some one on one time for once.

: ̗̀➛ N/A

↳ @arthurmorgansballsack

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

The fires burned low, creating a soft crackle that was more akin to a hum than anything else, hardly disturbing the vast woodland surrounding you; it was dark, with the skies an obsidian colour and the stars glittering with silver and steel, the lonely moon sat upon its throne with a slight frown.

The trees were tall and thick, bursting with such great life despite their leaves rotting on the ground below and creating homes for beetles and ants and spiders and woodlice; amongst the proud and steady branches, birds slept soundly as they nestled in their nests and snuggled in for the night.

The trees stood guard and watched proudly, just like the tales of old that had said that, once, there had been huge giants that looked like trees who protected forests and each of its species; those that protected tall and slender trees were tall and slender themselves, and those that protected towering and fat trees with thick roots were towering and fat with thick feet.

But those were just tales from an older time; there were no guardians of the forests and the woodlands anymore. The bushes were thick with life, as well, though; with their spiky arms, they were tipped with berries of black, red, blue and green.

Sweet berries that were protected by brave little spiders who were brown and black with stripes on their backs; the spiders seemed aware of who was friend, who was foe, and who was food as they scuttled away from the berries or closer to them depending on who reached for them.

Trolls didn't dare to go near there, and neither did orcs, for fear that the old stories from an older time were true; dwarves would be on edge, fearing that those giant trees would rise up again.

But in a far off land, there was home. It was so close, yet so far.

Almost able to be sniffed out like the smell of those sweet breads with the dried currents inside them that were always baked on a Sunday by the master of the house; she would grin as she put them down, humming songs of old as she went about baking those sweet breads.

They were a staple of the culture.

Just like the wooden spoons that hung up on the wall of the kitchen; they were carved with dragons and dogs and hearts and words in an old language. An ancient language.

Just like the horse's head skeleton that sat in the attic ready for the new year along with its brilliant white sheet and its plant decorations.

Just like the old songs in the old language that the children would sing when they took part of choir until they were older; most of them would continue singing well into their old age, just like the master of the house.

Home.

The smell of soup made with leeks and herbs dense in the air on cold nights, and the hustle and bustle of the mines throughout the day. It was difficult not to miss home when amongst the woodlands, but when you looked beside you at Kili, it didn't feel so bad.

You could still remember when Gandalf had sought out your employment. An miner by trade, you were more than used to long days in the darkness; a pickaxe in your hand, you could withstand any kind of weather and you had the strength needed for what he required.

He had a burglar, that much was true, but he also needed someone who would be able to help the brothers if they needed it. Somehow, Gandalf had learned about you; from your grandmother - the master of the house - he had learned that you had spent the best part of your life down the mines.

Covered in soot and coal, used to the roar of fires and the harsh weather that came with such a job; it was an important role back home, he knew that, and it had forged part of the identity of the people. But through the owner of the mines, Gandalf had also learned of your other skills; you spoke the old language just as well as you did the language of men.

That old language was said to soothe dragons to sleep, and to cool their tempers; he had heard stories about it. The old and ancient language that was as old as dragons themselves; spoken for thousands of years, it was soft on the tongue and quick in the throat.

Gandalf had heard that it was able to work on dragons of any kinds - from fire drakes to the one that he knew rested within your home. It slept in the mountains, a great red beast with thick armoured scales, much bigger than any other dragon, and much more agile and tough, too.

Along its back, it was covered in thick armoured spikes, with a spear-shaped tip on its tail and its tongue. Its claws could tear apart a mountain with ease, and its great red teeth could easily rip through any building in Middle Earth; with its four legs on the ground, it could extend its massive wings and cause devastating hurricanes and awful winds.

But it stayed asleep in the mountains, waiting.

Waiting for the call of its people to sing for its aid; only then would it stir.

The armour that had been worn by those within your lineage was made of that dragon's scales; it would shed them once every hundred years, and when mixed and forged with steal, the armour was unbreakable. Bright crimson in colour, with a large dragon engraved upon the breastplate.

The sword that your forefathers had passed down was made of the dragon's teeth; it would shed them along with its claws once every ten years, and the people would use them to make weapons. Arrows, bows, axes, maces, pickaxes, swords, daggers.

They were the sharpest in all of Middle Earth, and scarce to come by. Families were protective of their armour and their weapons, as they knew how valuable such a thing would be.

Gandalf hired you, knowing all of that, and although you weren't sure about leaving home at first, when you looked at Kili beside you, you knew that it was worth it.

He was leaning on your helmet as he laid on his side with his arm propped up on the dense scaled armour; he smiled when he looked at you.

His raven hair looked beautiful in the moonlight; dark spiced rum in a glass on a winter's evening, but twice as warm. His eyes seemed to sparkle with the silver steel of the stars, and his smile ripped all the homesickness away from you.

You smiled back, swallowing thickly as you hummed.

"What are you thinking about?"

You shrugged, daring to turn your gaze back to the woodland around you. "Home."

"Do you miss it?" He asked quietly.

You nodded slowly, daring to laugh softly. "I miss it, sure, but... when I'm next to you, it don't feel so bad."

"I should hope not," Kili laughed quietly. "We've spent enough time together."

You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving him onto his back. "Shut up. You know what I mean."

It took everything in him not to laugh loudly as he stared up at you. "Tell me about it - your home."

"We're a proud people, like you lot," you started, "we've had our culture and traditions for thousands of years, maybe more. Our language is older than yours, and we're... we're an alright bunch, really. It's hard not to miss the coal mines and the sweet breads, though..."

Kili hummed. "You said about spoons not too long ago."

"Oh, the spoons," you grinned, nodding for a moment. "We carve our wooden spoons for those we love. Family, friends, lovers. Anyone we love more than life itself - we carve spoons for them."

"And me?" He asked, raising a brow. "Would you carve a spoon for me?"

"I'd carve you a thousand spoons," you whispered softly. "I love you beyond the point of creation."

He smiled, nearly grinning; a familiar warmth in his chest, one that always went with him whenever you smiled his way or laughed at his jokes. His hands shook slightly as he struggled to bite back his glee. "You would?"

"I would," you agreed. "I would carve you spoons with your name in my language, ones with bows and arrows. I'd carve ones with Dwarvish runes. Ones that have the same pattern as your braids. I'd carve you spoons with anything, if only I had the wood..."

"Give me a moment," he murmured, getting up and humming to himself.

You watched him wander away, assuming that he just wanted some of the ripe berries from the nearby bushes; you cringed when he almost kicked Thorin's foot, and again when he nearly kicked Bilbo in the head. You didn't think anything of it, staring out at the woodland as you waited.

Kili grinned to himself as he searched the trees for branches that had fallen off; gathering them in his arms as he beamed and wondered if you would ever teach him how to carve them, too, if he managed to get enough wood.

He picked the ones that were fit for the part - branches that weren't too long but not too short, ones that were fatter than they were thin - and cradled them in his arms as he gleefully gathered up whatever he could carry.

More than happy with himself as he brought them back to you eagerly and set them beside you where he had been laid.

"I got some wood," Kili told you with a beaming smile. "Do you think you could teach me how to carve them?"

"Do you have a knife?" You asked, and when he produced one that he had stolen from his brother earlier, you did you best not to laugh. "Alright, grab a branch. You know what a spoon looks like, don't you?"

"I do," he nodded, his hands shaking as he tried to control his excitement. "I'm going to carve yours with a tree... is that possible?"

"Anything is," you told him, guiding his hand slightly. "Go more gentle at the tip, you don't want the handle to be too thin. Remember, most of the carving is on the handle."

Kili nodded, meeting your eyes as he hummed. "I love you - you don't have to stay anything back, I know you do, too."

"I love you, too," you murmured. "You're... you're part of my home, and as long as I'm with you, I'm happy."

"I'm glad the wizard hired you."

"Me, too," you smiled, shaking your head. "Don't be afraid to carve the end of the spoon too thin - it's not meant to be used for eating."

[xmalereader]

Moonknight x Shifter! Male Reader

☆— MASTERLIST — ☆

Requested: can i request a fic that's more of a headcannons post than a fic? i really love the way you write the moon knight boys and was wondering how'd they react to a protective shifter!reader who's usually quite calm and reserved(maybe a wolf just for the irony of wolves being sorta synonymous with the moon)? maybe in a world where shifters are starting to be accepted but some people are still jerks. kind of a "three times reader protected the boys and the time they returned the favor" sorta thing. if all three is too much though i totally understand, im okay with just one, your pick. whatever your schedule allows for ❤️ sorry if this is hard to understand it's a fever at 4am kinda night but i couldn't pass up the chance to make a request lul love your writing! hope you're doing well! i wish you good writing thoughts and dexterous typing times 🫡

CONTENT/WARNINGS: Fluff, slight angst, request, Steven is a sweetheart and Jake is scary while Marc is trying, short, headcannons, reader is a shifter, werewolves, society differences.

WC: 1.5k

TAGS: @luci-the-brat-boy

NOTES: I apologize for the long wait on making this request I’ve been busy on my end but I’ve finally got the time to get these completed! Thank you for enjoying my moonknight shots, writing these characters can be a bit tricky since they all have different personalities but I was able to make it work! I did make a few changes so hopefully it’s still good!

Shifters were still new to society and not many have grown used to them due to the fear of getting hurt one day if they were to shift in front of them and perhaps hurt them or kill them. Each shifter was different and due to their existence, laws were established in order to keep a balance between shifters and none shifters, but the laws didn’t really stop the hate that some people carried for them.

Steven Grant:

Steven didn’t think he’d end up dating a shifter, let alone one who shifts into a wolf the size of a car. He was shy at first since he was new to the whole shifting when it came towards his partner.

After a few dates Y/n grew comfortable in showing Steven his new form, taking things slow with the man since he was always so nervous around him until months of dating he’s grown used to him. Steven had also told Y/n about his DID and about Marc and Jake, giving him very little information about them expecting his partner to pry for more information only to reassure him that he doesn’t have to force himself.

After their confession they continued on with their dating life like normal. Until Y/n started to notice the way that Steven is treated at the museum, each time he paid him a visit he noticed how rude his manager was being to him, making him growl in anger by how to orders Steven around and makes him do the extra work while she sits back and does nothing.

Y/n knew how much Steven loved his job, but there were times that he couldn’t help but interfere with the situation.

It didn’t take long for him to track down Steven's mangers and corner them in an empty hallway, whispering them threats on treating their employees with respect and to not treat them as slaves, frightening the poor women.

“Treat them like slaves again and I’ll hunt you down on the next full moon.”

Lets just say that Steven stopped receiving bad treatment after that which only left him a bit confused and oblivious to the matter.

Y/n was always protective of Steven due to his innocence and oblivious state at times. Every time someone looked at him wrong or stopped his ancient Egypt mid rant he’d slowly turn to the person to give them the stink eyes as if saying, “how dare you stop him from talking about what he loves?!”

He had scary dog privileges…literally.

The first time that Steven actually lost it was when one of their neighbors caught Y/n coming back home from a full moon with Steven next to him. His wolf form looking a little smaller as he padded next to him quietly and tried to regain his thoughts after last nights events only for their snotty neighbor to step out into the hall and scold Steven for keeping a “mutt” around.

Y/n was close to turning around and snapping his jaws at the neighbor in order to scare them only for Steven to step in between them while glaring at the man angrily. Steven was already tired from chasing after his partner through the streets and making sure he wasn’t causing any trouble all night and his neighbors comment was his last straw.

The shifter had never seen Steven so upset, using every cuss word he knows to call the neighbor out, pointing a finger at him and jabbing them in the chest. It caught both shifter and neighbor by surprise until Steven finally cooled down and opens their door to allow them inside.

Once inside Steven slams the door behind him and leans his back against it with his face buried in his hands. Y/n had approached Steven slowly, still a small wolf and whining softly to get the man’s attention only for Steven to drop his hands and look at his partner in horror.

“Did I just do that? Oh god I’m gonna have a heart attack.”

Steven had never blown up like that before that even he was surprised by his outburst that night.

Marc Spector:

Marc wanted to scold Leon for picking a shifter as a boyfriend. Marc didn’t hate shifters he just didn’t know much about them to actually trust them yet, so when he finds out that Steven got himself a shifter of a boyfriend he couldn’t help but be a bit cautious around him.

Y/n didn’t spend much time around Marc since the man refused to be around him when it was his turn to take over the body. The shifter wanted to ignore him and let him do as he wanted, only to end up following Marc secretly whenever he went out.

The two didn’t get along quiet yet, but Y/n is still overprotective of the two of them. Yes, they share the same body but he can’t help but feel like he needs to be there to protect them both.

Only Marc doesn’t need protection he knows how to take care of himself and stick up for others, so the first few times he caught Marc being defensive or fighting back he couldn’t help but find the man quiet attractive.

Marc was perhaps the one who could actually make him blush whenever they spent time together back in Steven’s flat. Even when Marc returned back home stressed and upset, Y/n already knew how to help the man distress by shifting into his wolf form and lying on his back across Marc’s lap and letting the man scratch his belly or bury his face into his warm fur while groaning in frustration as if someone would do to a pillow. Y/n enjoyed cuddling with Marc during his full moons when he’s stuck in his wolf form for long hours of the night.

Y/n was in the cities office when he was first called out for being a shifter while renewing his passport due to Marc wanting to take them on a trip. A few strangers were waiting around for their turn and due to Y/n being a shifter he was first priority since he went through a longer process in getting a renewal which pissed off a lot of people.

Only for Marc to shout at them to shut up and reminding them the laws between humans and shifters and how not everything is fair between them, giving them a deadly glare that made them back off.

Y/n can’t help but crack a small smile when hearing Marc’s words as he focused on his passport renewal.

Jake Lockely:

It was harder for Y/n to get along with Jake since he acted like the silent but deadly brother between the three. He found Jake intimidating that he was perhaps the first person to actually make him tuck his tail between his legs.

Jake didn’t need protection and Y/n knew that since he’s seen the man beat another human to near death until he stopped him from going to far. Y/n didn’t know about Jake until one night when he noticed a change of smell in Steven and Marc’s scent, realizing that they weren’t the only ones.

Jake was suppose to be a secret, hiding in the shadows as he watched over Marc and Steven. Only the cab driver didn’t really need to protect them since they had a shifter by their side, but that didn’t mean Jake couldn’t keep an eye on him too.

Their first night together was awkward for them since Jake rarely spoke and Y/n was too afraid to ask him questions without getting the man angry. It didn’t take long for Jake to notice this that he finally decides to speak up, asking questions that’ll get him closer to the shifter.

They only spent time together during late nights when Steven and Marc are sleeping and Jake is able to take full control. Giving Y/n a chance to join him on his nightly trips and sitting next to him on the passenger seat while talking.

It didn’t take long for Jake to warm up to the shifter, not realizing that Jake had added him to his list of people to protect. Even though Y/n can shift into a large wolf, big enough to kill anyone on sight, Jake still decided to take the roll of taking care of the shifter too.

Y/n first witnessed Jake defending him when he was helping a man into the cab from a club, drunk off his ass while the shifter gets him inside the back seat. What he didn’t realize was the group of men lurking around the club, clearly drunk as they whistled at him, trying to get his attention which he ignored.

That was until one of them had the balls to slap his ass filling him with shock and ready to strike the man down, but when turning around Jake was already doing that for him.

Jake was filled with rage as he slams his fist into the man’s face over and over again. The others tried to pry Jake off, but he was faster than them, kicking their asses and forcing them on their knees and apologizing to the shifter.

Y/n could only stare at Jake with wide eyes as the men whimpered out their apologizes to him.

[peterman-spideyparker]

Celebrate (Marc Spector x fem!Reader, Steven Grant x fem!Reader, Jake Lockley x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! So, I have had this done for a while and just never posted, so better late than never, amirite? And besides, we can all always use more Oscar Isaac and the Moon Boys in our lives. Enjoy! :)

Summary: The boys realize that they've never celebrated your birthday with you, despite being with you for well over a year and you celebrating their birthday. When they find out when it is, nothing will stop them from giving you a birthday for the record books.

Warning: Fluff (established couple with all the Moon Boys, super sweet affection, kisses, a very important question), angst (negative emotions about birthdays), implied smut

Other Characters: None

Word Count: 3,348

Steven, Marc, and Jake love you. They loves everything about you, from how you talk, to how you have a ‘lucky’ something for every category of item you own, to how big your heart is. But there is one thing about you that particularly irks them.

In the year and a half that you have been together with them, they has yet to find out when your birthday is. For all they knows, they could have missed it twice! Hell, you’ve remembered theirs twice and have done incredibly loving things for both.

They have tried everything—Steven even tried to sneak a peak at your license once, but turned out to be in a different wallet. Steven only knew his lack of knowledge wasn’t by virtue of him not trying extremely hard, because Marc and Jake couldn’t find out either.

Jake enjoyed playing around with the fantasy that you were a secret spy or assassin who stepped away from the action to lead a normal, quiet life. Steven and Marc were ready to quickly dismiss it when they remembered that they served as an avatar for the Egyptian God of the moon. In all honesty, there was a chance that Jake could be right. 

“Did you know that in Ancient Egypt, Pharaohs didn’t celebrate birthdays on the actual day?” Steven asks as he hands you a dish from the suds. “They celebrated their coronation day since it was when they were born into the role of ruler.”

“Interesting,” you respond as you use the towel to dry the plate.

“It’s a bit sad, though, innit? That other people didn’t celebrate their birthdays. It wasn’t a common thing.”

“Well, I mean, I guess people make a big deal out of birthdays and place a lot of pressure on them. Maybe the Egyptians had it right.”

“But it’s an important day, you know? Someone fantastic was brought to the world, that’s worth celebratin’.”

You have a feeling you know what he’s getting at. You choose to remain quiet.

“You’re worth celebratin’, (Y/N).”

You feel tears sting at your eyes, and you suck in your bottom lip to prevent yourself from crying.

“Why haven’t you told us when your birthday is?” he pleads softly.

You dip your head and shrug. “My birthday . . . I don’t know,” you mutter. “I have a lot of mixed feelings about it, and I don’t know how to say them without sounding whiny.”

Steven tilts your chin up with a sudsy finger so your eyes lock onto his.

“We’re all ears,” he says tenderly.

You let out a sigh, but Steven’s finger refuses to let your gaze leave his.

“No matter how old I got or whatever new friends I made, my friends and colleagues and even my exes always forgot my birthday. I always made it a point to remember theirs, get a gift, a card, whatever, because—it’s the friggin’ day they’re born! And then I always had these small, wistful expectations there’d be something done for me like a surprise, but it was always nothing. Once I got into my college years, I’d have these hopes and expectations of what I’d have done by that birthday, and most of them never came true. My ‘have a first kiss’ goal was deferred for eight years until I was 25.” You close your eyes and give your head a little shake. “I’m just always disappointed by my birthday with other people and myself. Never a real reason to celebrate.”

Steven dries his hands and wipes away yours tears with the pads of his thumb as he pulls you in for a loving hug.

“Will you tell us when your birthday is, love?” Steven whispers into your hair. “Please?”

Unable to resist his tender embrace, you tell him the date, and he pulls back to scan your face. “That’s Thursday,” he states.

“Yeah,” you nod. “It is.”

You don’t expect him to cradle your face in his hands while he kisses you deeply. “Boy, do we have some idea’s stewin’ in our brain,” he beams as he gives you another kiss. “And you know what? Since I missed it last year, you’re gonna have a half-birthday celebration that is gonna knock your knickers right off of you.”

“My knickers?” you laugh, your hurt feelings quickly leaving your body.

Steven whistles and moves his hand like a plane to emphasize the absolute absence of panties you’ll have before he hops up and rubs his hands together in excitement. 

“Oh,” he says as he holds up a finger. “This is why we couldn’t figure out your birthday, right? You’re not secretly a spy or assassin?”

You laugh at the implication, the sadness rolling off of your body. “Jake’s idea?”

Steven nods. 

“Well, I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you, and I’d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours. And then there’s the issue of getting rid of the body, and we’re on the fifth floor—.”

“See, I know you’re jokin’, but part of me is actually a little spooked right now,” Steven says.

“No, hon. I’m not a spy,” you giggle, moving to kiss his cheek and push his curly hair back. “Sorry to disappoint Jake.”

Steven breathes a sigh of relief and dips his head as you hold onto him. "Oh, thank the gods!"

You’re vaguely aware of the shifting on your mattress as you continue to enjoy a cozy slumber under the comforter with your head on the pillows. After a bit, you feel another shift on the mattress along with the warmth of another body whose smell you know all too well. 

“Happy birthday, my love,” Steven whispers with a gentle kiss to your cheek.

You let out a tired moan as you roll into Steven’s body, wrapping an arm around his middle and burying your face into his chest as you try to pull yourself back into a deep sleep. 

“Come now, I’ve made you your favorite. And I have a nice big mugga mornin’ Joe with your name on it,” he encourages.

You unbury your head slightly, looking up at him with still heavy eyes. He smiles as he looks down at you, kissing your forehead.

“I knew if the kisses didn’t do it, the coffee would,” he chuckles.

As you sit up in bed, Steven twists his torso and places a breakfast tray on your lap, presenting you with waffles, fresh cut fruit, and veggie sausage.

“Thank you, hon,” you tell him, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Anythin’ for the birthday girl,” he hums, placing a kiss on your neck that sends goosebumps throughout your body. “I still wish you could’ve taken the day off.”

“Trust me, if I didn’t have these big meetings, I’d probably just stay in bed with you three.”

“Don’t give Jake any ideas—he’d find a way to make those meetings cancelled,” Steven chuckles, stealing a strawberry for himself. You know there’s nothing particularly aphrodisic or phallic about a strawberry, but watching Steven’s lips move around the red fruit and how his tongue licks away the juice sends your head spinning. Steven catches you looking at him and smirks. “Yes, love?”

“Oh, nothing,” you blush as you move to take a bite of the waffles in front of you.

“Mm, likely story,” he hums as he licks his lips once more, bringing his lips to your pulse point for a chaste kiss.

“I don’t know that I’m gonna be able to finish these, hon,” you chuckle as you take a closer look at the stack. “You made eight?”

“I’ve seen you devour a stack of waffles with no issue before.”

“Yeah, on a weekend where I don’t have to go do a full day of work later.”

“Then lucky for you, I am here to help,” he smiles, stealing your fork to snatch a bite of waffles for himself. “Bloody hell, I’m a good cook.”

We continue to sit in bed and eat the fluffy breakfast food until you have to get ready for work. As you fix your hair in the bathroom, Steven takes care of the dishes; he finishes drying them as you move from the bathroom to put on your clothes. As you slide on your sweater, Steven shuffles into the bedroom.

“Let me walk you to work today?” he whispers as he lifts out the hair tucked into the collar of your sweater. 

“I want to say yes, but then I wouldn’t want to go in or have you leave,” you respond just as quietly. “Especially after a morning like this one. It’d be the bed predicament on the sidewalk.”

Steven brings his lips to yours slowly as you wrap your arms around his waist. The kiss is tender and lazy, much like how you wish you could spend the day with one another. Steven lets out a defeated sigh as his lips part from yours, resting his forehead against yours.

“Text me when you get there?” he asks as his fingers play with your hair.

“Of course,” you tell him. "Love you."

Steven hands you your purse, letting you adjust it on your shoulder before he places more quick kisses on your lips, murmuring a "Love you more," as you attempt to make it out the door.

“What?” you chuckle as you put your purse on the table by the door. Jake is leaning on the kitchen table like a puppy that needs to be let out.

“I can’t wait for my girlfriend to do part two of her birthday?” Jake smirks as he suavely moves over from the wooden surface and meets you at the door, his hands on your waist as he plants a passionate kiss on your lips.

“And what would part two be, exactly?” you smile as you bite your lip, keeping them just out of reach of his so you don’t spend the rest of the night making out in the kitchen—although, you wouldn’t be opposed to it.

“I can’t give away all of the details, mi corazón. Now, go to the bedroom, put on what’s laid out, and then we’ll go to part two.”

You smirk at him and scrunch your eyebrows playfully as you try to figure out what he has planned. You do as he asks, nonetheless. Lying on the bed, you see a beautiful sky blue satin dress with an asymmetrical hemline and silver strappy heels. You slide on the dress and it fits like a glove—so much like a glove, you can see the line of your underwear underneath the fabric. Lightly chuckling to myself, you slide off your panties and take off your bra. Usually, you’d be opposed to going full commando, but when you see yourself in the mirror, everything looks better—the dress was made to be worn on your body without undergarments. You slide on the heels to finish off the look and quickly comb your hair to revitalize it from the day. When you meet Jake back in the living room, he licks his lips and smirks as he looks at you, giving you bedroom eyes as you move closer to him.

“Now will you tell me what we’re doing?” you coo as you run your hands up and down his chest.

“No,” he smiles as he pulls you in for a searing kiss, squeezing your ass for scientific reasons, you’re sure.

“You’re not wearing anything underneath this, are you?” he breathes against your lips.

“Not a stitch,” you hum as you move his hands off your rear, taking a step back and opening the door with your things in hand. “Lead the way, Lockley.”

He gives you a bedroom smirk and mutters a string of Spanish curses and erotic notions under his breath—something about not realizing how sexy you’d look and what he’d rather be doing to you.

“Don’t worry, babe, I think all of you boys will be able to do those kinds of things later,” you assure him as you pull him down by his tie for a kiss. “Patience is a virtue.”

“Not when vice looks as good as you in satin.”

Jake captures your lips in a passionate and lusty kiss that still maintains an air of chastity to it—his mind on the mission of the surprise, but his heart veering towards your shared bed.

“Come on, cariño,” he rasps as he takes your hand and leads you out of the apartment and down the stairs.

“I don’t even get a hint?” you try again as you walk along the sidewalk.

“Tell me what you think we’re doing.”

“Really? Twenty questions on my birthday?”

“Play along,” he chuckles.

“Fine,” you sigh dramatically as you lace your fingers with his. “It’s definitely somewhere fancy?”

“Is it, though?”

“I’m dressed to the nines. I don’t see how it can’t be somewhere fancy.”

“Or I wanted to show you off.”

“Okay,” you say, processing Jake’s cheeky remark, thinking of all the possibilities. “Well, dinner would be too obvious, so it clearly can’t be that.”

“Clearly,” he chuckles. “Come on, cariño, I thought you knew me better than this.”

“Ouch, gut punch!” you say, poking at it side. “I’m still thinking. You are an expert at being sneaky, I’m trying to process my options.”

“Well, you should come up with one soon. We’re almost there.”

Knowing the area, you scan through all the storefronts you can bring to your mind, when something clicks with your ensemble.

“Jake Lockley, are you taking me dancing?” you hum as you look over to him, his eyes sparkling in the dim London light.

“It took you long enough to figure it out,” he chuckles as he guides you to the left into a little courtyard that is all done up where other couples are waiting to start the lessons. “We’re gonna put those hips of yours to a different kind of work. Just for a short while, at least.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything fun or culinary up my sleeves,” Marc says as the two of you walk hand in and through the quiet park, the path lit by beautiful old street lamps.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything,” you tell him. “I know how much effort you all put into today. It’s nice to wrap it all up with dinner and a little stroll.”

A gentle breeze begins to pick up, and Marc immediately shrugs off his bomber jacket to place on your shoulders. You want to protest, but you love having things that he wears on your body—the warmth form his frame, the smell of his skin and cologne, the silent gesture of love.

“Thanks, baby,” you tell him softly as he presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Did you have a good day today?” he asks, matching your tone. “I know you mentioned your meetings—.”

“Yeah, the meetings from hell,” you sigh as you roll your neck, the mere thought of them bringing tension to your body. “Not only could they all have been emails, but they were ridiculously long and were so unproductive that we knew less by the end than we did at the start. Debbie led both.”

“Oh no, not Debbie.”

“Mmhm. Don’t get me started with that one.” You let out a long sigh and rest your head on his shoulder. “But it’s all worth it, because I get to come home to an amazing system of men who love me.”

He rests his cheek on top of your head. “We love you, too, baby.”

“How about we go home and take a bath? Wind down from the day. Get naked and wet together.”

“Mm, two of my favorite adjectives.”

“Maybe we can add some other adjectives you like to that mix,” you chuckle, lightly checking his hip with yours.

Taking a turn off the path of the park, you hop on the sidewalk and make the short walk back to the flat, snuggling close in the old elevator as it drags its way up to the top floor. 

“You want me to put on a kettle for tea or coffee or something?” you hum as you unlock the door, tossing your keys into the dish as you make your way in. “Or are we going to save all the warm water for—what are you doing?”

In your living room, Marc is perched down on one knee, a little open box in his hands as he looks up at me with his rich brown eyes.

“We were actually gonna do this next week,” Marc starts, his voice soft, the edges brimming with emotion. “But we thought this might be a really great way to end your birthday.”

“Baby . . .”

“(Y/N), I don’t think I need to begin to tell you how much we all love you. If I did, we’d be here for a hell of a long time, I’d loose feeling in my legs from the knee down, and you’d offer to help me walk over to the bed, just like how you are always there to help me and Steven and Jake with whatever comes up. You see us as whole people. You make us feel whole. You have the biggest, most caring heart that a person can have, and you love so selflessly . . .” Marc sniffles and furrows his brows as he tries to keep his cool. You take a few steps toward him, kneeling down and wiping his tears away with your thumbs. 

“Marc,” you say softly, his name on your tongue dripping with emotions.

“We can’t imagine our lives without you in it, and we never want to,” Marc continues. “Will you marry us?”

“Of course,” you practically sob, wrapping your arms around him and holding him tight. He holds you back just as firm, neither of you saying a word. Marc is the one who eventually breaks the embrace, moving to take out the ring out of the box to slide it on your finger slowly.

“It’s a pink sapphire, but it looks purple, and you love purple—,” Marc starts.

“—and gold jewelry looks so lovely on your skin, cariño—,” Jake continues.

“—and it’s a vintage settin’ so there’s no ill-environmental effects,” Steven finishes. “Happy birthday, my love.”

“You guys are sure?” you sniffle, your teary eyes frantically scanning their faces. “Are you sure you guys love me? That this is what you want?”

“Mi corazón, where is this coming from?” Jake asks softly, brushing tears off of your cheek. “Of course this is what we want. We’ve never felt this way about anyone before. We only want you, amore.”

“It just doesn’t feel real. It feels like a dream.”

“It’s very real, love,” Steven says, gentle hands on your shoulders as he leans forward to place a sweet kiss on your forehead. “And you already said yes—there’s no take-backs.”

You let out a wet laugh as you move back in to kiss Steven—he always knows just what to say to bring a smile to your face.

“Well, I guess if there’s no take backs.”

As Steven leans forward to kiss you again, and you feel distinct shift just before we part, and you’re met once more with Marc.

“Is it still a yes?” he asks carefully.

“Of course it’s still a yes. I’ve got the three best guys in the world—why wouldn’t I want to make it official?”

Marc smiles brighter than you’ve ever seen in your life. He leans forward to kiss you once more, his arms wrapping around you tightly and picks you up, much to your surprise. The two of you continue to kiss as he walks you to the bed and lays you down on the mattress, only briefly parting from you to brush some stray hairs off of your face.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he whispers, his forehead resting on yours, allowing you to feel his eyelashes brush your cheeks. 

“I love you all so much,” you whisper. “Thank you for choosing me.”

Marc gingerly kisses the tip of your nose. “Forever and always.”

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[harmoonix]

♕ Mysterious Placements in your birth chart ♕

Oh, who is she?

♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕

➻ Sun/Moon in the 8th house/Moon in Scorpio or Moon/Sun at Scorpio Degrees (8°, 20°) are born with this mistery aura in them, they are secretive and savage in the same time

➻ Venus/Pluto/Mars in the 8th house or Scorpio, they are having this "Who are they" aura in them, everytime they make contact with someone, it will always bring their attention

➻ Venus conjunct/sextile/trine - Pluto = Not only misterious but tend to radiate some sexual and intimidating energy aswell. Very powerful placements when it comes to transformations

➻ Mercury conjunct/opposition/square Pluto, they are so intelligent and they can have this type of "dark mind" ans "dark thoughts", their voice aswell might be very attractive/sensual

➻ Jupiter conjunct/sextile/trine Moon - This might be an very underatted placement when it comes to being misterious but the truth is they can be very misterious when they make contact with people and when they met someone new, that person is always gonna have that impression of "I wanna know more about them"

➻ Lilith conjunct/square/opposition the ascendant can have this mistery aura inside them aswell, giving this "Shadows embrace" kind of mood

➻ Lilith conjunct/square/opposition Sun makes the native rebellious and secretive aswell as making them this "misunderstood" feeling and even judged sometimes. They have pretty misterious eyes

➻ Sun in Capricorn/Sun at Capricorn Degrees (10°,22°), Capricorns were always giving this vibe of "darkness and boldness" they are represented by the Ying element which is darkness and it makes sense so much. Capricorns are witchy aesthetic

➻ Moon in the 9th house is another indicator for underatted mysterious placements, they repsent the ancient/magic/past/history so many things that imply being seen as someone with a very mysterious flair

➻ Uranus or Neptune in the 12th house => Pretty mysterious when it comes to making a first impression, they can be connected spiritually and having this empath energy around them

➻ Mars in Sagittarius are very rebel and having this "rebellious" nature makes them to be seen as a mystery, they are having such a good personality

➻ Pluto in Sagittarius Generation [ 1996 - 2009 ] they change the worlds perspective, giving freedom to people and making them to be more spiritual than before, gives them really flair of mystery, when they want to change something they will do that. This generation is spiritual awaken

➻ Lilith in the 1st house can embody Lilith's traits pretty much and be seen as a mystery to people especially to men (no matter the gender), they can also be seen as someone very different

➻ Lilith in the 6th house is a very intense house to have Lilith in, because Lilith the dark divine meets with Virgo which is light divine, and they both create an mix of darkness and light

➻ Lilith in the 8th house can act pretty mysterious as they enter in a room everyone's eyes can switch on them

➻ Lilith in the 12th house is another underatted placement when it comes to mystery, they are having a very different vibe when they are near you and makes you wonder "What's with them"?

➻ Asteroid Hekate [100] in the 1st house/aspecting the ascendant, well this is Indeed the mystery itself, you are seen as a mystery and someone who can be a threat for some people

➻ Asteroid Hekate [100] in the 8th house are very intuitive when it comes to secrets and truth's they will always come to light, no one can lie to them

➻ Asteroid Hekate [100] in the 9th/12th houses are spiritual gifts, they can know so many things and been seen as someone very wise since a young age, a mystery surrounding

➻ Asteroid Hekate [100] conjunct/trine/sextile Moon=> very intuitive and in touch with everything that is around them is like they have the 3rd eye 👁️ open

➻ Asteroid Hekate [100] aspecting the North Node, embrace your own shadows and learn to stand for your power because this indeed is a very powerful placement, you are intuitive and creative use this tools in your life to feel better

➻ Moon conjunct/sextile/trine Pluto - gives the native this flawless energy of mystery. They are good at keeping others people secrets and can have a very dark humour

➻ Moon square/opposition/ Pluto is almost the same as the aspect above just more intense creating an sense of insecurities including jealousy and envy from other people. Dealing with people who have problems with you

➻ Neptune conjunct/sextile/trine Moon - Well this aspect is kind of mysterious as a siren song, they have a certain side of them who secretly wants to keep in the shadows and away from people

➻ Sun in the 12th house/Sun in Pisces - This placement is well known for being mysterious as being the "child of the universe", they carry with them this energy and got attention without them knowing why, is also an very empath placement

➻ Placements List of placements who are well known being seen as mysterious (already)

Scorpio Rising/Rising at 8°, 20° degrees

Aquarius Rising/Rising at 11°, 23° degrees

Capricorn Rising/Rising at 10°, 22° degrees

Pisces Rising/Rising at 12°, 24° degrees

Lilith aspecting the MC (Midhaven)

Lilith aspecting Neptune

Virgo Degrees on your planets (6°, 18°)

Jupiter in Leo

Jupiter in Scorpio

Jupiter in Libra

Jupiter in Virgo

Uranus in the 1st/2nd houses/7th houses

Pluto in the 10th/11th houses

➻ Having Pluto prominent in your chart gives you this baddie vibes, badass and mysterious someone with a very dark humour

➻ Having Moon prominent in your chart gives this "Moon child" appearance, someone with extremely beautiful eyes and you know how they say "Eyes never lie" 👀

➻ Having Saturn prominent in your chart gives "Boss is here" vibes, someone very admirable and respectable by the people

💋 The vibe is this post gives is so 🌃 Coquette and elegant 🌃 I love it honestly is such an mood

💋 May everyone who reads my notes have a good day with a good energy and good mood, and never forget to love yourself the most 💋

💋 H a r m o o n i x 💋

Harmoonix2023®

[slavonicrhapsody]

I love all your thoughts and headcanons about Rykard so much. It's obviously how much you like him. Do you have any thoughts on who he was as a child and his upbringing at all?

thank you so much lol… yeah I do have thoughts! a lot of them in fact

I think the thing about Rykard’s upbringing is that his parents are both legends, and he’s inheriting these two powerful bloodlines within a wider society that values strength first and foremost. So there’s a lot of pressure to live up to his parents’ examples… he’s not as strong as Radahn, who lives up to Radagon’s image in every way (“I was born a champion’s cub. Now I am the Lord of the Battlefield’s lion”), and he’s not his mother’s heir with his own moon like Ranni, nor is he an empyrean. How must he distinguish himself? I think this might be where his great ambitions for more of a political authority come from (his position in the inquisition), and why he feels the need to assert himself over others to feel worthy (“taking by force became the rule,” “the strong take”).

I think as a kid Rykard would act kind of overly haughty and aloof because he wants to be seen as important and worthy of respect, and he would be kind of sensitive and prickly if he feels like he’s being disrespected. maybe he has a really explosive temper (get it… like a volcano... sorry). At the same time I think he’s always had big ambitions and audacity and that inspires people around him… that’s why people were loyal to him during the Shattering!

I also think Rykard was close with Radahn when they were young and he never needed to put up a front around him because he doesn’t need to earn his brother’s respect… he could be more like, silly around him. But then Radahn left for Caelid and it was just him and Ranni, who probably confided in him because they believe the same things and she trusts him with her plans/the rune of death shards later on.

With Radagon, I get the sense that their relationship was not very close and more formal… Radagon was known as a really secretive person during his marriage to Rennala and there aren’t any anecdotes about him bonding with their kids in the same way he did with Miquella. Radagon’s reputation as a fierce warrior also looms large and I think he was someone young Rykard would try to emulate (like with the red Gelmir knight plumes) but not someone he could truly confide in. Rennala on the other hand I feel was closer to Rykard because she gets a shoutout in his magma spells: “After discovering the ancient hexes of Gelmir, Rykard, son of Queen Rennala, brought them back into practical use as new forms of sorcery.” All his skills and knowledge of sorcery he gets from her. I think as a kid he’d always crave new and unconventional magic knowledge, which led to him messing around creating sorceries from ancient pagan hexes when he was older! So I think both Radagon and Rennala were huge influences on him when he was young, but he ended up having a closer relationship with his mother (there’s a reason why Raya Lucaria is guarded by abductor virgins, but Rykard seeks to destroy the Order that Radagon holds most dear). ok I think I’ve talked for long enough

[emma23]

Moonlit Confessions:

Steven Grant x reader

————————————————————————

The British Museum was quiet, its halls bathed in the dim glow of the evening lights. As a fellow museum employee, you often found yourself wandering through the exhibits after hours. Tonight, you were drawn to the gift shop, where you knew Steven Grant would be working.

Steven was a gentle, unassuming man with a deep passion for Egyptology. Despite his job as a gift shop employee, he often spent his breaks reading about ancient artifacts and sharing his knowledge with anyone who would listen. Over time, you had developed a close friendship with him, bonding over shared interests and late-night conversations.

You found Steven meticulously arranging a display of replica artifacts. His concentration was so intense that he didn’t notice you approaching.

“Hey, Steven,” you called softly, smiling as he looked up, startled.

“Oh, hello, (Y/N)!” he greeted, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Didn’t see you there. What brings you to my humble corner of the museum?”

You chuckled, leaning against the counter. “Just wanted to see what you’re up to. Besides, I always enjoy our chats.”

Steven’s cheeks reddened slightly. “Well, you’re always welcome here. I was just reorganizing these items. Trying to make them more appealing, you know?”

“You have quite the eye for detail,” you remarked, admiring his handiwork.

“Thanks,” he said, his smile growing. “You want to grab a cup of tea after I’m done here? I’ve got some new books on ancient Egypt that I’d love to show you.”

“Sounds perfect,” you replied, your heart fluttering with anticipation.

————————————————————————

Weeks turned into months, and your friendship with Steven deepened. You often found yourselves spending hours together, discussing everything from ancient history to personal dreams and fears.

One evening, as you both sat in the museum’s break room, Steven looked at you with a thoughtful expression. “You know, (Y/N), I’ve been thinking…”

“About what?” you asked, sipping your tea.

“About how much our friendship means to me,” he admitted, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t have many friends, and you’ve become quite important to me.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest. “I feel the same way, Steven. You’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had.”

Steven’s eyes lit up. “Really? That means a lot to me, (Y/N). Sometimes I worry I might be boring you with all my talk about ancient artifacts.”

“Never,” you said, shaking your head. “I love hearing you talk about them. Your passion makes everything so interesting.”

He beamed at you, and for a moment, the world outside the museum seemed to disappear.

————————————————————————

One night, you found Steven sitting alone on a bench outside the museum, staring up at the moon. You joined him, the cool night air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you asked, nudging him gently.

Steven sighed. “Just thinking about how much my life has changed since you came into it. In a good way, of course.”

You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest. “I’m glad to hear that. You’ve changed my life too, Steven. More than you know.”

He turned to look at you, his eyes searching yours. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” you said, your heart pounding.

“Do you ever wonder if there’s more to our friendship?” he asked hesitantly. “Sometimes I feel like there’s something… deeper between us.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “I do wonder, Steven. I think about it a lot.”

Steven’s face softened, and he reached out to take your hand. “I don’t want to ruin what we have, but… I can’t ignore these feelings. You’re more than a friend to me, (Y/N). Much more.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you squeezed his hand. “I feel the same way, Steven. I’ve been afraid to say anything because I didn’t want to lose you.”

He pulled you into a gentle hug, his breath warm against your skin. “You could never lose me, (Y/N). Let’s take this one step at a time, together.”

You nodded, a sense of peace settling over you. Under the moonlit sky, you and Steven sat in silence, holding onto each other and the promise of what could be.

————————————————————————

As the days passed, your relationship with Steven blossomed into something more. Your evenings were filled with laughter and shared secrets, your days with stolen glances and subtle touches.

One afternoon, you found yourselves exploring a new exhibit that had just arrived at the museum. Steven was in his element, explaining each artifact with the same enthusiasm that had first drawn you to him.

“And this,” he said, pointing to an intricately carved amulet, “is a protective charm from the Middle Kingdom. It’s said to ward off evil spirits.”

You leaned in closer, admiring the craftsmanship. “It’s beautiful. I can see why you’re so passionate about this.”

Steven smiled, his eyes sparkling. “I’m lucky to have someone who appreciates it as much as I do.”

You felt a rush of affection for him. “I’m the lucky one, Steven. You’ve opened up a whole new world for me.”

Steven blushed, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before meeting yours again. “I guess we’re both lucky, then.”

The conversation lulled into a comfortable silence as you continued to explore the exhibit, walking side by side. There was a palpable sense of anticipation in the air, as if both of you were waiting for the right moment to speak.

Finally, as you stood before a statue of an ancient Egyptian deity, Steven cleared his throat, drawing your attention.

“You know,” he began, his voice soft but steady, “I’ve been thinking a lot about us and where we’re headed.”

You nodded, encouraging him to continue. “So have I.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. It’s like... like you’ve brought color into my life that I didn’t know was missing.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you felt your own emotions bubbling to the surface. “Steven, you’ve shown me a kind of kindness and passion that I’ve never experienced. Being with you feels right in ways I can’t even begin to explain.”

He reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “Do you think... we could try being more than friends? See where this leads us?”

You squeezed his hand, a smile spreading across your face. “I’d like that very much.”

His expression brightened, and he stepped closer, the warmth of his body radiating towards you. As he leaned in, you felt a flutter of nerves, but also an overwhelming sense of rightness. When his lips finally met yours, the kiss was soft and tender, a promise of the deep affection you both shared.

The kiss deepened, growing more passionate as you both gave in to the feelings that had been building between you for so long. When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, eyes locked in a shared moment of understanding and joy.

“Wow,” Steven murmured, his voice tinged with awe. “That was... amazing.”

You laughed softly, still feeling the warmth of his kiss on your lips. “Yeah, it was.”

As you stood there, surrounded by ancient relics that had witnessed countless stories, you couldn’t help but feel that your own story was just beginning. It was a story of unexpected friendship, of love blooming in the most unlikely of places, and of a future filled with the promise of countless shared moments.

Together, you and Steven walked out of the exhibit, hand in hand, ready to face whatever the future might hold. The British Museum, a place filled with the echoes of history, had become the backdrop for the beginning of your own tale—a tale of love, discovery, and the beauty of finding someone who saw and cherished you for exactly who you were.

[zapreportsblog]

Hey really enjoy your writing. I was hoping if you could accept my request. Fem reader is human mate to the volturi kings . She met them while her friends and her where Ghost hunting it was night time and they friend to get in she’s ended up meeting them that way lmao she was 😳

Spooked but intrigued needles to says her life changed that day. She has had a blast getting to know the 3 kings and befriended the guard. She’s was always insecure and sometimes it’s hard to believe she gets to be with amazing people like they have so much knowledge and even been through a lot in life. One day she over heard a new guard talking shit about her. “Why is a human so important to the kings. The probably will just use her and toss her out. She’s so useless and doesn’t do anything. She heard it and got so depressed she locked herself in her room. It got so bad she sorta stoooed eating because she thinks he sorta is right compared to the kings she really does not grasp why they are with her she understands she’s their mate but wishes she could do more.

Cue the kings and the guard being worried /pissed because they can’t see her and got even more worried because she’s not eating and crying all the time. The twins are also mad they investigated and slowly found out how she heard some new guard talking shit. The vampire will now understand the phrases fuck around and find out.

Needless to says the guard is pissed with this vampire and the kings will take care of him soon 😡

But first their b loved need to understand how her work and her perspective as a human is so precious to them and to the her she’s that breath of fresh air that they need she makes their day’s joyful and they can’t see life without her. Marcus s all of them coax and explain how much she means to them. They get very vulnerable with her 🥹🥺

You cans add romance and fluff if you feel comfortable.

Now after reassuring her they take her so she can see them end this fool 😡😈

A trial is done to this stupid guard that dared to do this to their mate it’s not going to be a pretty execution 😈

👁️👄👁️ this is so long but at the same time 👁️🫦👁️ I like it, therefore enjoy 👁️👅👁️

↱ protecting what’s theirs ↰

➘ summary : a stupid ghost hunting trip leads to an unexpected meeting

➘ aro x reader x caius x marcus, twilight x reader, volturi x reader

The full moon cast an eerie glow over the ancient streets of Volterra as (Y/N) and her friends ventured into the heart of the city. Armed with flashlights and a sense of adventure, they were on a ghost hunting expedition like no other. Volterra's rich history and legends of the supernatural had drawn them here, but little did they know, they were about to stumble upon a world beyond their wildest imagination.

The cobblestone streets echoed with the hushed laughter of the group as they meandered through the shadowy alleyways. The atmosphere was charged with a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. The tall, imposing buildings seemed to watch their every move, and (Y/N)'s heart raced as her flashlight flickered, casting eerie shadows against the ancient stone walls.

As they turned a corner, the distant sound of footsteps caught their attention. A chill ran down (Y/N)'s spine, and her grip on the flashlight tightened. The footsteps grew closer, accompanied by an indistinct murmur that sent shivers down her spine.

"Did you guys hear that?" (Y/N) whispered, her voice barely audible above the hushed whispers of her friends. They nodded, their expressions a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

Their flashlights converged on the source of the sound, revealing three figures emerging from the darkness. Dressed in attire that seemed both elegant and out of place, the strangers exuded an air of authority that demanded attention. Their eyes glowed with an otherworldly intensity, capturing (Y/N)'s gaze and holding it in a vice-like grip.

"Who are you?" one of (Y/N)'s friends stammered, her voice quivering.

"We are the Volturi," the tallest of the strangers replied, his voice smooth and commanding. "And you are trespassing in our domain."

A mixture of fear and fascination washed over (Y/N) as she studied the enigmatic trio. The Volturi - the name resonated within her like a haunting melody, awakening something deep within her soul. Unbidden, her eyes met the piercing gaze of the Volturi king, his crimson irises holding a promise of secrets and mysteries beyond her imagination.

Before anyone could react, the situation took an unexpected turn. A low growl reverberated through the air, followed by the emergence of another figure from the shadows. This newcomer was different from the Volturi, his presence radiating an aura of danger and wildness. His eyes locked onto (Y/N), a mix of curiosity and something more primal flickering in their depths.

"Demetri, Felix, we have guests," the newcomer's voice was a velvet whisper, sending a shiver down (Y/N)'s spine.

The tension in the air was palpable as (Y/N) and her friends found themselves caught in a web of intrigue and danger. The meeting of humans and supernatural beings was fated that night, setting in motion a series of events that would forever alter their lives.

The atmosphere grew electric, the very air around (Y/N) seemed to thrum with a hidden power. She tore her gaze away from the newcomer and back to the enigmatic Volturi kings, who exuded an unsettling mix of authority and intrigue. Questions tumbled in her mind, but the words caught in her throat.

"Forgive our intrusion," one of (Y/N)'s friends managed to stammer, her voice trembling. "We didn't mean any harm."

The tension eased slightly as the Volturi king who had spoken regarded them with an inscrutable expression. "Curiosity often leads mortals to unforeseen encounters," he mused, his tone measured.

"But now that you've seen us, you pose a risk," the newcomer interjected, his voice like velvet edged with steel. "A risk that requires management."

(Y/N)'s heart raced as the implications of his words sank in. What did he mean by "management"? The situation felt precarious, like a fragile balance hanging by a thread.

"We promise, we won't tell anyone about what we've seen," another of (Y/N)'s friends hurriedly assured, her voice quivering.

The Volturi kings exchanged a look that conveyed volumes without a word spoken. It was as if they communicated through an unspoken language that (Y/N) couldn't comprehend. After a tense pause, the leader of the Volturi spoke again, his gaze resting on (Y/N) once more.

"Your words are noted. However, secrecy is not the only matter at hand. There is something... unique about your presence here."

The intensity of the Volturi king's gaze sent shivers down (Y/N)'s spine. She felt like he was peering into her very soul, unraveling the thoughts and emotions she kept hidden even from herself.

"What do you mean?" she managed to whisper, her voice barely audible.

A ghost of a smile touched the corners of his lips, but it did little to ease the unease coiling within her. "Some things are better shown than explained," he said cryptically.

Before anyone could react, a swift movement caught their attention. The newcomer, who had been lurking at the edges of their conversation, now stood in front of (Y/N). His intense gaze bore into her, a mixture of curiosity and something far more primal.

"Would you allow me to show you?" he murmured, his voice like a seductive whisper.

(Y/N)'s heart raced as she met his gaze, her mind torn between fear and a strange attraction she couldn't explain. Her friends exchanged nervous glances, their unspoken concern palpable.

"Show me what?" she asked, her voice wavering slightly.

The newcomer's lips curved into a predatory smile, and a flicker of something unreadable danced in his eyes. "The truth about who we are, and who you are becoming."

As the moon cast an ethereal glow over the ancient streets of Volterra, (Y/N) stood at a crossroads between the mundane world she had known and the enigmatic realm that had suddenly opened before her. Unforeseen encounters had set her on a path of discovery, a journey that would challenge her perceptions and forever intertwine her fate with that of the Volturi kings.

In the days that followed that fateful encounter, (Y/N)'s life took an unexpected turn. Intrigue and curiosity won out over fear, and she found herself agreeing to the newcomer's proposal. What could he possibly show her? It was a question that echoed in her thoughts, driving her to embrace this newfound journey.

As days turned into weeks, (Y/N) discovered a world she had never dreamed of. The Volturi kings, Aro, Caius, and Marcus, each held a presence that was simultaneously awe-inspiring and intimidating. Yet, to her surprise, they welcomed her into their midst with a warmth and hospitality that shattered her preconceived notions.

There was something about their timeless wisdom and the stories they shared that drew her in. Aro's insatiable curiosity, Caius's unwavering determination, and Marcus's melancholic wisdom—each king offered a unique perspective that broadened her horizons.

But it wasn't just the kings who left a lasting impression. The main guards, Felix, Demetri, Jane, and Alec, became her friends. They possessed a camaraderie that was forged through centuries of loyalty and trials. Their stories, filled with both triumphs and heartaches, served as a reminder that even the seemingly immortal beings had faced their share of challenges.

Despite their extraordinary existence, (Y/N) found that they too were grappling with their own vulnerabilities. Jane's fierce determination masked a deeper longing for acceptance, while Alec's quiet demeanor concealed a well of emotions. Demetri's playful banter belied a complex history, and Felix's imposing presence shielded a heart of gold.

As (Y/N) spent time with them, she began to realize that they weren't just powerful beings, but individuals with their own struggles and insecurities. It was a humbling revelation that helped her see herself in a new light. Her initial insecurities, the nagging doubts that she didn't belong, began to fade.

With each passing day, (Y/N) embraced the friendships she had forged. They didn't judge her for her mortal limitations; instead, they celebrated her unique perspective and her willingness to learn. She found herself laughing more, exploring the hidden corners of Volterra with her new companions, and immersing herself in their world.

And through it all, the enigmatic newcomer who had introduced her to this world kept his promise. He showed her the secrets of their existence, revealing the intricate web of alliances, rivalries, and histories that shaped the Volturi's power. (Y/N) listened with rapt attention, her thirst for knowledge deepening as she delved into the labyrinthine tales.

As the weeks turned into months, (Y/N) realized that her life had irrevocably changed. She had transformed from a mere mortal into someone who walked among beings of unparalleled power. But even more importantly, she had found a sense of belonging, a place where her presence was valued and her voice was heard.

The grand halls of the Volturi castle echoed with footsteps, laughter, and murmured conversations. (Y/N) had grown accustomed to the rhythms of this supernatural world, finding comfort in her friendships with the kings and their guards. But one day, as she wandered near a corridor, her steps slowed involuntarily as she overheard a conversation that shattered her newfound sense of belonging.

The voices, though hushed, reached her ears with a clarity that cut like a blade. Her heart hammered in her chest as she recognized the voice of a new guard, someone she hadn't interacted with much. The words he uttered were like poison, seeping into her thoughts.

"Why is a human so important to the kings? They'll probably just use her and toss her out. She's so useless and doesn't do anything."

Those words echoed in her mind, a chorus of doubt that she couldn't escape. As if struck by an unseen force, she retreated from the corridor and fled to her room, her steps heavy with a sadness she couldn't put into words.

Locked away from the world outside, (Y/N) sank onto her bed, her thoughts a tumultuous storm. The echoes of the guard's words reverberated in her mind, amplifying the insecurities she had once managed to overcome. She had believed that she belonged here, that her friendships and connections were genuine. But now, the shadow of doubt loomed over her.

Tears welled in her eyes as she battled the emotions that threatened to engulf her. She had thought she was strong enough to face the skepticism of the outside world, but the venomous words had struck a chord deep within her heart. The weight of her perceived uselessness bore down on her, suffocating her spirit.

Hours passed like a blur as (Y/N) grappled with her emotions in the solitude of her room. The once-familiar space now felt like a prison of her own making. The world outside seemed unreachable, the bonds she had formed now tainted by the poison of doubt.

But just as darkness threatened to consume her completely, a soft knock on her door drew her attention. Tentative at first, then growing more insistent. With a heavy sigh, (Y/N) forced herself to rise from the bed and open the door, revealing the concerned faces of Demetri and Felix.

"(Y/N), are you alright?" Demetri's voice was gentle, his eyes reflecting a genuine worry.

Her voice caught in her throat, and she turned away, unable to meet their gazes. It felt like they could see right through her, past the façade she had constructed.

"(Y/N), you heard that, didn't you?" Felix's voice was quiet, tinged with a sadness she hadn't expected.

Unable to speak, (Y/N) nodded, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She felt vulnerable, exposed, as if her deepest fears were laid bare for them to see.

Felix stepped forward, his large frame engulfing her in a comforting embrace. "You're not useless, (Y/N). You've brought light into this place, and your friendships are genuine. We've seen it, felt it."

Demetri joined them, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. "We understand that words can hurt, but don't let them define you. You're part of this world because you've earned your place."

Tears spilled down (Y/N)'s cheeks as their words sank in. She realized that she hadn't been alone in her struggle. The friends she had made here saw her worth, even when she couldn't see it herself.

Despite the support of Demetri and Felix, (Y/N)'s mind remained ensnared by the guard's hurtful words. Their reassurances were like a lifeline, but her doubts had taken root, growing stronger with each passing day. The castle that had once felt like a sanctuary now seemed like a place where she didn't belong.

The laughter of the kings and the guards, once a symphony that brought her joy, now felt like a reminder of her perceived inadequacy. She watched them with a heavy heart, wondering why they would choose to be with her, a mere human. In her eyes, they were luminous beings, powerful and wise, while she was fragile and ordinary.

As the days turned into weeks, (Y/N)'s insecurity morphed into something more insidious. She began to withdraw, spending more time in her room, lost in a sea of introspection. The once vibrant glow that surrounded her seemed to dim, and even her interactions with Demetri and Felix felt strained.

The guard's words had taken root deep within her, echoing through her thoughts even as she tried to push them away. Food lost its appeal, and her appetite waned as she contemplated her own worth. She wanted to do more, to contribute something meaningful, but the weight of her perceived uselessness bore down on her, sapping her energy.

Demetri and Felix's concern deepened as they watched her retreat further into herself. They tried to offer solace, to remind her of her place among them, but their words fell on deaf ears. Every reassurance seemed like an empty echo against the overpowering tide of self-doubt.

In the heart of the Volturi castle, a sense of unease hung in the air as Demetri and Felix stood before the three kings. The normally imposing presence of Aro, Caius, and Marcus seemed muted in the face of their guards' obvious distress.

"Demetri, Felix, you both seem troubled. What weighs on your minds?" Aro's voice was laced with a curiosity that never failed to unnerve.

Felix exchanged a look with Demetri, a silent understanding passing between them. With a deep breath, Demetri began to recount the events of the past few weeks—the encounter with the new guard's hurtful words, (Y/N)'s growing isolation, and her plummeting emotional state.

Caius's expression darkened as he listened, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his armrest. "And you say she's confined herself to her room? She's not eating?"

Felix nodded, his voice grim. "Yes, she's been locking herself away, hardly eating, and she seems to be in constant emotional distress. We've tried to reach out to her, but our words don't seem to reach her."

Aro leaned forward, his fingers pressed together in thought. "This is troubling indeed. We were aware of her insecurities, but we had hoped that she would find solace within our company."

Marcus, who had been silent throughout the conversation, finally spoke in his characteristic soft tones. "It appears that the shadow of doubt has taken a firm hold on her. She questions her place among us, her worthiness."

A heavy silence settled in the room as the weight of the situation hung over them. Aro's eyes glinted with a mixture of concern and determination. "We must not let this darkness consume her. We have seen her strength and resilience. It is our duty to remind her of the light she brings into our lives."

Caius's gaze was steely as he spoke. "Felix, Demetri, I want you both to find a way to reach her. Encourage her to open up, to share her thoughts. We cannot allow her to remain trapped in this cycle of despair."

As the guards nodded in agreement, Marcus offered a quiet suggestion. "Perhaps, the presence of the kings themselves might help break through her isolation."

Aro smiled, his expression one of reassurance. "Yes, we shall pay her a visit. Together, we will show her that she is not alone, that her place among us is secure."

With renewed determination, the three kings and their loyal guards set forth on a mission to bring light to (Y/N)'s darkness. The castle's grandeur and power faded in importance as their collective focus centered on the fragile human whose presence had stirred something profound within them.

As twilight settled over the Volturi castle, the air was charged with an unspoken tension. The kings had made their decision, and Alec and Jane, the twins known for their formidable powers, were chosen to investigate the events that had cast a shadow over their domain. The twins moved with an eerie grace, their gazes set with an intent that held an unspoken promise of retribution.

Their path led them to the new guard's quarters, and with a swift motion, Alec opened the door. Jane's crimson eyes bore into the guard, her gaze like a laser that could cut through steel. The guard looked up, caught off guard by their sudden presence.

"Mind if we have a word?" Alec's voice was deceptively calm, but there was a flicker of danger in his eyes.

The guard shifted uncomfortably, his bravado faltering as he sensed the aura of the twins. "What do you want?"

Jane's lips curved into a cold smile, her power radiating from her as she stepped closer. "We heard about your little chat the other night. About (Y/N). Care to elaborate?"

The guard's eyes widened in realization, but he tried to maintain his composure. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Alec's patience wore thin, and his tone hardened. "Don't play games with us. We know exactly what you said. We know about the doubt you sowed in (Y/N)'s mind."

The guard's defiance wavered, and fear crept into his eyes. He stammered, "I... I didn't mean anything by it. I was just venting."

Jane's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Your words have consequences. You underestimated her strength, and now she's suffering because of it."

A tense silence hung in the air as the twins' words hung heavy between them. The guard's mask of arrogance had crumbled, revealing a hint of vulnerability that Alec and Jane took note of.

"We suggest you tread carefully from now on," Alec's voice was a chilling warning. "Because you've just invoked the wrath of the Volturi kings, and they don't take kindly to those who threaten their own."

With that, the twins turned and left the room, leaving the guard to his thoughts. As the door closed behind them, a sense of unease settled over the castle.

Meanwhile, within the chambers of the kings, the atmosphere was fraught with a simmering anger. Alec and Jane's report had ignited a fire within them, and the knowledge of (Y/N)'s suffering had only fueled their determination.

Demetri's eyes darkened with rage as he clenched his fists. "The audacity of that guard to undermine (Y/N)'s place among us. She deserves more respect than that."

Felix's jaw tensed, his expression mirroring the anger of his comrades. "It's clear we need to set an example. We can't allow this kind of behavior to go unpunished."

Aro's lips curved into a dangerous smile, his gaze glinting with a mixture of power and retribution. "It's time to show this guard what it means to cross the Volturi."

The kings and their loyal guards united in their determination. The guard had unwittingly invoked the fury of the most powerful beings in the vampire world. The phrases "fuck around and find out" took on new meaning as they hatched a plan to ensure that the guard understood the gravity of his actions.

In the shadows of the castle, a reckoning was brewing—a reminder that the Volturi did not tolerate threats to those they cherished. The guard's actions had set in motion a chain of events that would shape the fate of all involved.

As the days unfolded, (Y/N)'s sense of isolation began to wane. The support of Demetri and Felix, along with the kings' determination to mend the damage, had chipped away at the fortress of doubt she had built around herself. The light that had dimmed within her began to flicker once more, illuminating the path toward acceptance.

One evening, as the moon cast its silvery glow over the castle, (Y/N) found herself alone in her room. The atmosphere was charged with a mixture of anticipation and unease. The knock on her door signaled the arrival of unexpected visitors.

"(Y/N), may we come in?" Aro's voice was gentle, tinged with an underlying warmth.

Heart racing, (Y/N) opened the door, revealing the three kings standing before her. Their presence was awe-inspiring, yet this time, it didn't fill her with trepidation. Instead, a sense of belonging enveloped her, and she welcomed them with a mixture of gratitude and curiosity.

"Please, come in," she managed to say, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside her.

As they entered her room, the kings' expressions were a blend of concern and determination. Aro, the one most adept at voicing thoughts, took a step forward. "We want to apologize for any distress you've experienced due to the actions of one of our own."

Caius's gaze was piercing, yet there was a hint of understanding in his eyes. "We should have intervened sooner, defended your place among us."

Marcus's voice was soft, carrying the weight of his centuries of wisdom. "You are not just our mate, (Y/N), but a valued member of our family. Your presence has enriched our lives in ways words cannot convey."

Tears welled in (Y/N)'s eyes as their words sank in. They had come to her, not just to reassure her, but to affirm her worth in their lives. The fortress of doubt she had constructed crumbled, and she felt like she was standing on the precipice of a new understanding.

"I... I don't know what to say," she whispered, her voice catching.

Aro's smile was warm as he approached her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You don't need to say anything. Just know that you are cherished, valued, and loved.”

Caius's voice was a whisper that held an unspoken promise. "And we want to make amends for any pain you've endured."

Marcus's gaze held a quiet intensity. "Which is why we've decided to have a trial for the guard who caused you harm."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened in surprise, a mix of emotions churning within her. "A trial?"

Aro nodded. "Yes, a trial. We want you to be there, to see the consequences of his actions, to understand that the Volturi do not tolerate threats to their family."

Caius's voice was firm. "You will witness his judgment."

Marcus's words held a sense of finality. "And you will know that you are not alone."

Tears streamed down (Y/N)'s cheeks as she met their gazes, her heart overflowing with gratitude and a newfound sense of belonging. In that moment, she understood that her place among them was not just by chance, but by choice.

As the moon bathed the room in its glow, the kings and their mate stood together, bound by a connection that transcended words. In the embrace of their love and support, (Y/N)'s journey of self-discovery continued, her spirit rekindled by the realization that she was an integral part of the world she had come to call home.

[biteofcherry]

Let’s just say, for reasons, Leshy!Steve goes into a kind of rut when spring begins and everything starts to bloom 😏👀 How do you think that would play out for Reader?

😳🥴 You're killing me here, Siri! So I'm ruining you in return 😏

Entwined Main Story

Leshy!Steve Rogers x female reader

warnings: sort of monsterfucking (Steve is an eldritch entity); cockwarming; a different kind of bondage; rut/mating;

Each wet breath you wheeze out seems to twinkle like dust in a beam of sunlight.

The earth shakes lightly, growing warmer and damp; each rumble synced with spurts of cum filling your cunt.

You're not sure, if it's really happening, or if your overdosed on sensations brain created illusions. You knew there was ancient magic running through this forest through invisible veins, pulsing inside of you, too. And it all was connected to the god of the forest.

Who, at the moment, is deeply rooted inside of you in the most literal way.

As the first moon of May brought the coat of spring, it stirred something in Steve.

He always had this mysterious wildness to him, but it appeared to be unleashed now; bursting high and spreading wide, just as lilies of the valley did over one night.

You woke with his face buried between your thighs. Your legs were perfectly placed in the cradle of his antlers, spreading you obscenely to his thirsty mouth. And he drew your juices into a stream, rocking his hips into the bedding of green and moaning his need and pleasure onto your swollen folds.

When he rolled you onto your belly and put you onto your hands and knees, you barely had a moment to brace yourself. Steve breached you in a single thrust; his groan mixing with your cry.

Over the months he showed you gentleness of an experienced lover, who could shatter you into pieces and rebuild you again with slow, thorough love making; as well the untamed primal ways a body could be taken and filled, making you both embarrassed and craving more.

The way he's fucking you now, is something completely different. Wilder. Powerful, not only in his thrusts.

You're so full of him already and yet he seems to be squeezing you closer, wanting into you deeper.

You gasp, feeling a tickling sensation that spreads into soft caress on your body. All over you. When you look down, you see vines stretching from Steve's skin to grow and twine around your limbs.

They wrap around your thighs, over your belly and chest. Tying you to Steve's broad body and constricting any movement.

Only your arms are free.

You trace a trembling hand across your chest, but as your fingers dance over the little leaves, the vine swirls around your nipples, eliciting a new jolt of pleasure.

"Steve?" There's a tint of worry in your voice, but it's still a breathy moan from the sensations rolling through your body. "What's all this?"

You twist your arm behind you and reach your hand to his head, your fingers combing through the silky strands. You've caressed Steve so many times, you can touch him blind without hurting yourself on his antlers.

You've learned how to caress them, too.

"I need to be inside of you." Steve's voice echoes with something deep and old. Something very inhuman.

"You are inside of me-ah!" You can't help the loud keen as Steve shifts and his cock moves inside you again.

"Need more!" He snarls like a stag in rut.

One of his hands grips your vine covered breast, the other cradles your belly as Steve makes an abrupt change in positions.

He stands up. And your body, tied to him so closely with his vines, moves along with him.

Like a perfect cocksleeve.

Steve walks the few paces between your bed and the wide, golden beech tree; each step shifting his cock along your fluttering walls.

"Brace yourself," he growls, sneaking the hand that was on your belly lower and rolling your swollen clit between his fingers.

You comply, placing your hands on the trunk of the majestic tree. With a shout, you dig your fingertips into the harsh bark, as Steve starts bucking into you anew.

[sweetcarrotsandroses97]

Spring | JJK

Hello darlings!!!

Pairing: royal guard!Jungkook x princess!Reader, prince!Jimin x princess!Reader (ft. Yoongi & Hoseok)

Summary: In which you, princess of the Gyeongdong Dynasty, were in the middle of wedding plans. An arranged marriage that would guarantee your father's bloodline to stay on the throne.

Or in which you are assigned a new royal guard that swore to protect you with his life. Jeon Jungkook. That's his name. A name you could never forget. A name that, slowly but surely got engraved not only in your memories but also in your heart.

Love, politics, betrayal and desire. All in ancient history. A love that never should have happened, two souls that wouldn't be allowed to be together.

Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of past life, reincarnation! AU, implied soulmate! AU, flashbacks, ft. Yoongi and Hoseok, modern! AU, lost love, yearning, strangers to lovers???, all the feels, crying, there's a kiss, sweet and soft koo, hurt/comfort, (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 10.4 k

A/N: Hello, darlings! Welcome the the finale of "Four Seasons"! I know you guys have waited a looong time for this part to come out but it is finally here so let's see how Jungkook and our Princess will end their love story!

This whole story was highly inspired by "Moon Lovers" and the ending it should have had, (in my humble opinion). I included different scenes of other movies/shows/dramas that I liked with the hope you will like it as well.

Also thank you guys so much for 200 followers! Take this as my thank you gift, darlings!

Thank you so much for all the love this series got and thank you for sticking up with me to see the end of this journey and hopefully the beginning of many more! Please let me know your thoughts in the comments, darlings! Happy reading, everyone!

💜 Boraghae ARMY 💜

~Taglist for Four Season: @valhallawhispers @lovingkoalaface @seokout @ackercute @jksusawife

~Tagging people who were waiting for the finale (I apologise if you didn't want to be tagged) @jjanjankook @junghoseok07 @vminkookgf @allie-is-a-panda

We have lived through centuries, carrying many lives, carrying many deaths. Carrying a world only remembered by our pure soul.

Jungkook opened his eyes, it was still dark outside. He sighed, reaching over his nightstand and picking up his phone. His eyes burned with the sudden light coming from the small device as he turned off his morning alarm.

The phone rested on his chest as he hesitated whether to get up and go to work or probably call sick today once more. Yet a sudden weight getting on the bed made him sigh once more. His other hand blindly searched for his large and sweet dog to pet him lazily while remembering Bam was running out of food and he needed to buy another bag, that meant he had to go to work once more.

With a soft groan, he sat on the bed, searching for his slippers before he stood up and walked out of the bedroom with Bam hot on his heels.

The sun was barely out yet the sky was already painted in beautiful hues of blue and orange. Decorated with the soft looking clouds that seemed to have been delicate brushes over a painting in the museum Jungkook worked at.

Loneliness encapsulated Jungkook's heart as he gazed at the beautiful sky, he almost felt as if there was something missing in his life or rather, someone. He felt empty, divided and there was nothing that could fill that void in his soul.

He tried getting into cooking, but the soft ache was always there. Working out was the solution for some time but as soon as he was back home, that melancholy drowned his soul once more. It made him ache, dream and yearn for something he didn't even know what it was but he felt like he needed it to survive.

Spring had arrived a couple of weeks ago, the trees were blooming with beautiful pink flowers and the petals fell on the ground softly, creating an enchanting path to walk by. The parks were full of greenery and the birds began to sing after the crude winter. Warmer days were to come.

Jungkook found himself walking through the same streets like every morning to get to his full-time job. He walked monotonously, his earpods on only to stop people from talking to him, not that it had happened many times but there was something about today that he didn't wish to interact with people. The least he did it, the better.

No music filled his ears, the walk was monotonous; monochrome even. Without an ounce of colour in his life even when spring was flourishing around him.

However, the sudden smell of fresh roses invaded his senses and he was pulled back from his mind and looked around the crowd that walked alongside him but were unaware of his mundane existence.

Many people surrounded him. Many people continued their paths while he stood rooted to the ground. The scent so soft and calming it made his heart skip a beat without thinking about it. But the feeling was lost before he could fully grasp it. Something clawed at his heart to search for such a unique scent, to go after the person who owned it but the idea dissipated from his mind like fog in a spring morning as someone bumped his shoulder softly and Jungkook was forced to continue moving with the crowd who carried him away of his very first taste of spring.

You stared out of the window of your car, your chin rested over your knuckles as you lost yourself in your thoughts. You noticed the beautiful cherry blossoms have already bloomed, spring has arrived sooner than you thought. But despite the mesmerising view outside of your car, you felt nothing about the pink petals that signalled a new season has started.

Almost as if your heart was frozen. Many called you that. Ice Queen. For people have rarely ever seen you smile. As if it was physically harmful for you to do so. The public always had its eye on you given that you were the only and beautiful daughter of a very important politician, your life was surely of entertainment to the media.

"Did you check the files I sent you yesterday?"

Hoseok, your best friend and personal assistant, spoke next to you. His voice brought you back from your thoughts. You turned to look at him with that emotionless expression he had already gotten used to as you spoke with a dry voice.

"Of course. If I'm going to buy something, I inform myself well, Hoseok. You already know the drill."

He sighed, opening his phone as he checked a new message from your father.

"Is there anything that caught your eye?"

You took a deep breath, your fingers playing with the bracelet you never took off as you spoke with that same bored tone he honestly hated in you. Not because Hoseok had come to terms with it meant he liked it. He had once heard your beautiful laughter. Your precious smile was enough to illuminate a whole room. But that had been long ago. Many years had passed since those golden days. Days when you didn't have responsibilities, when there were no explicit expectations. Days when you both were only children.

"I want to see the paintings. The Gyeongdong Dynasty is known for their magnificent art but I won't be convinced until I see such art pieces with my own eyes."

Hoseok sighed yet again. If he got a dollar for every time he sighed these days he'd already be rich.

"Stubborn as ever."

He muttered under his breath and you turned around to look out of the window, hiding the minuscule smirk that threatened to break over your cherry red lips.

The car stopped in front of the Leeum Museum. You looked at the building, hearing how Hoseok stepped out of the car, just as your driver. Your best friend walked around the car and opened the door for you. With graceful movements you stepped out as well and stood tall on your ground as Hoseok closed the door behind you.

"I'll call you when we’ll be getting back."

Hoseok spoke to the driver, the older man bowed down at you both before he got in the car again and drove off. You stood in front of the museum, admiring the beautiful architecture. Soft wind made your hair fly slightly as you began walking to the castle of arts with Hoseok trailing behind you.

A sudden melancholy filled your heart with each step you took towards the building. As if you had been missing something and were only about to find it. It clawed at your heart and you shuddered at the feeling. Suppressing it as the double doors opened for you and you entered the elegant and modern museum, wanting to stay and leave at the same time.

"Today Miss Lee will be visiting us for her purchase, Jungkook."

Yoongi spoke as he leaned back on his office chair while twirling a pen between his fingers. Jungkook nodded, hands clasped in front of him as he listened attentively.

"She is an extremely special client, one of our main buyers. I am trusting you to tend to her every need. Don't mess with her. Let her roam around and when she decides what artefact she'd want to buy, bring her here. I'll sign the paperwork."

Jungkook looked at his boss and friend with curiosity in his big doe eyes.

"Is there anything specific I should know about her?"

Yoongi sighed deeply, twirling his chair a bit to the right as he looked outside the beautiful gardens of the elegant museum.

"You really don't follow the media, do you? Miss Lee (y/n) is known to have a very difficult temper. She has never been seen smiling and her attitude is as cold as ice, according to netizens. Don't follow her too closely, don't even look her in the eyes. We can't lose such an important purchaser as her."

"I understand."

Jungkook reassured with firmness in his voice, feeling something oddly familiar at the mention of the stoic woman's name. Something within himself he wasn't quick enough to grasp.

"You may go, she is expected to arrive any minute now."

The younger man nodded, bowing softly before he left the classy and minimalist office. Jungkook descended the marble staircase that led to the offices above only to come face to face with Jung Hoseok himself.

"Mr. Jung."

He acknowledged. Hoseok turned to look at Jungkook before a warm smile appeared on his delicate and beautiful features.

"Ah, you must be Jeon Jungkook, right?"

The latter nodded, extending his right hand forward. Hoseok shook his hand firmly before the both men began walking back to the gallery.

"I apologise. I wasn't notified when Miss Lee arrived. I'd like to introduce myself to her."

Jungkook spoke with professionalism in his deep voice. Silently earning Hoseok's silent approval about the younger man.

"Of course. I left her in the ancient relics hall. Let's go there, shall we?"

You had ventured on your own when Hoseok left you to search for the man who was going to accompany you and assess you in your purchase. You didn't pay him much thought as he disappeared around the corner, leaving you alone in the large and beautiful house of arts.

Your feet carried you through the halls, your heels clicking in the marble floors and echoing among the walls that told centuries of history.

The exhibition of the Gyeongdong Dynasty was one the public have been waiting for a long time now. Curious as ever as to what item were you to purchase as preservation of cultural treasure as per your father's own political project.

There was something terribly familiar about the artefacts you saw kept in glass boxes. Historical treasures were kept intact, there was jewellery from noble families and even the royal families of the dynasty that were managed to be restored.

Paintings, clothes, old parchments, vases and even toys were all around the place. You walked over to the hallway where the artefacts of the royal families were kept. Ignoring the heaviness in your steps, the sourness in your heart, the odd feelings that clawed at your heart.

A big glass wall allowed you to witness the mesmerising view of the gardens, cherry blossoms in all their resplandor bloomed at the very background, pink petals decorated the outer grounds and a small fountain was at the centre of the small yet lovely garden that you felt a sudden urge to go to.

You watched it in silence. The soft and pink petals falling behind you with delicate motions. Spring had arrived. But your heart was frozen. Cold as it missed something you yearned for yet didn't know what it was or how to find it. An empty feeling that had lived within you for as long as you can remember.

With a sigh, you forced yourself to avert your eyes from the garden and focus back on the artefacts around the big room. You watched replicas of the dynasty's royal robes. A dress colour orange picked your attention the most, perhaps for its intriguing details or beautiful tailoring. Maybe because of the extravagant colour but you found yourself staring at it for quite some time. A heaviness weighing your heart down as you forced yourself to move forward from the dress you knew once belonged to a princess.

You passed the row of robes and dresses in glass cages, focusing on the paintings hanging on the walls with their respective description below.

First family of the Gyeongdong Dynasty.

Second family of the Gyeongdong Dynasty.

Third family of the Gyeongdong Dynasty.

And so on. It was mostly a man and a woman in the painting, some had children others did not. And you guessed they were the kings and queens of the long lost dynasty that brought the land to prosperity before the Goryeo dynasty started.

You stopped in front of a painting of a man and a woman, both quite beautiful in the art piece. The woman in the painting was holding a baby in her arms and you couldn't help but tilt your head slightly at the strange familiarity you felt towards the beautiful portrait.

There were no names of the people in the painting, the Gyeongdong Dynasty had suffered quite the loss of information when the palace caught fire during the last family of the bloodline. However, you couldn't stop staring at the woman in the portrait. You didn't know why, but it almost felt as if you were watching yourself in a mirror.

You felt as if you resembled her, as if your soul recognised her even when you hadn't seen such a portrait before. The man however made you nostalgic over their sad story.

According to the description of the painting, the man and the woman were married and had a son but she had died of a heart disease. He never remarried and historians said the queen was deeply loved by her husband.

The more you looked at the painting, the heavier your heart felt. It was a family portrait. A family portrait that told a sad story. It made your heart clench in your chest and you took a step back, as if the painting was cursed by the heavens and you had to walk away from it.

Perhaps you needed to stop taking that herbal tea Hoseok always pestered you to drink on an empty stomach.

You felt your stomach sink when you saw the next painting. You recognised the man from the last portrait. The young king. His queen was by his side in the large throne hall and all the officers stood in front of the throne in line. You saw a man, standing next to the queen that wore dark robes and had rough and large hands clasped in front of him.

It felt as if you were dreaming. Watching a movie or remembering something you had forgotten as images flooded in your mind and you found yourself drowning in the violent waters that was the mind.

---

A soft smile was plastered over your features while still facing him. However, he ignored what you said and commented, his voice a bit more distant than before.

"You will trip if you walk like that."

It was a statement rather than a possibility and that had you frowning up at him. If he was going to be like this then your little trips to the city and nearby villages were going to be a bit dull, at least until you got to your desired destination.

"I won't! I don't lik-"

But your sentence got cut off when, just as he predicted, you tripped with a small rock. You gasped when you felt your body being pulled down to the ground by gravity, the heavy skirts of your dress not allowing you to gain back your footing.

It was only when you felt a firm hand grasping yours and a pull over your body when you were back on your feet.

"I told you you would trip over."

Officer Jeon said, his voice cold and distant but you were able to catch a tinge of humour behind his words. A soft blush painted your cheeks when you realised he was still holding your hand in his surprisingly warm one.

Out of a sudden you felt shy, retrieving your hand from his grasp and taking a couple of steps away from him as you hadn't noticed just how close the two of you were a mere second ago.

"That... that was- it wouldn't... aish. I don't like for people to walk behind me, I feel like I'm being followed. Just... just do me the favour, could you? Just walk next to me, I promise you won't get in trouble."

He sighed, looking around before agreeing with a silent nod.

"And, thanks by the way. For not letting me fall down."

He bowed slightly, the both of you continuing your path down to the city.

"I was just doing my work, Princess."

You had to bite down on your lip to keep the smile from shining all over your face. He indeed took that vow to heart. You thought. Looking up at him, you noticed just how handsome your personal guard was and a warm sensation spread all over your body.

"So... tell me. What's your name? How would you like me to call you?"

Your question made him look down at you for a split second but you continued to watch him with curiosity. If he was going to always be with you, at least you could be friends?

"I am the First Officer of the Royal Guards, Jeon Jungkook. You can call me as you please, My Lady."

Jeon Jungkook.

---

"Thank you for coming with me to the city."

He bowed down at you, not saying a word. When he straightened back up he was met with the sight of you holding a small bag towards him.

"You can have them, you looked like you wanted some of them. I won't be able to finish them all anyway."

Jungkook took the bag from your hand hesitantly, his fingers brushing yours for a split second before the contact was broken.

"I appreciate your generosity, Princess. Rest well."

You smiled a little wider at him, your hands clasping in front of you.

"You rest as well, Jungkook."

With that being said you entered your room, sliding the door shut. Only when Jungkook saw that you had closed the door did he begin walking back to his own room.

---

"You have good skills but your posture can be improved."

At Jungkook's words you lifted your gaze, meeting his dark brown eyes with your own once more. He gestured towards your bow with his chin and asked, his voice gentle like a summer breeze.

"May I?"

You nodded, handing him your bow. The warmth of his fingers brushed yours and you had to bite back a smile. He crouched down and picked up the arrow that had fallen from your grasp a moment ago.

Jungkook positioned himself and you watched his every move.

"You are too tense while holding the bow, if your hold is firm but at the same time gentle it will give you stability."

You listened carefully to his explanations as your eyes were glued to him and for the first time since he became your personal guard were you able to admire him. Properly admire him.

Your gaze landed on his focused face, on how his eyes were put on the target mark and nothing else. Then, you travelled to his lips and marvelled on the way he was pulling back the arrow until it touched the corner of his lips softly. His jawline was defined as if it had been sculpted by the gods.

His broad shoulders carried years of training and you could see how his muscles could be traced even with more than one layer of clothing. His veiny hands held the bow and the arrow with expertise and you found yourself trapped in a trance in which only Jungkook existed.

He fired the arrow, hitting the target in its centre. You looked amazed at the clean shot he did and he commented, giving you back your bow.

"Would you like to try again, Princess?"

You nodded and took the bow. Jungkook walked where the rest of the arrows were and picked one up. He handed it to you and you took it softly from his grasp. You positioned the arrow and prepared yourself to shoot.

You silently gasped when you felt a large hand over your left one, the one holding the bow and it took you less than a second to realise it was Jungkook who was guiding you. You smelled his scent from behind you and felt the light pressure of his body at your back but it wasn't uncomfortable, on the contrary, you felt safe being this close to him. It was... Soothing, to say the least.

"You need to relax your hand a bit more."

Following his instructions, he smiled.

"Good, now take a deep breath. Straighten up a bit more and concentrate."

You did as you were told, closing your eyes and relishing in the comfort Jungkook provided. The warm feeling of his hand over yours was nearly overwhelming. The moment you opened your eyes again, the only thing you could focus on was the target. Letting go of the arrow, it travelled through the air with a mute noise and landed directly on the mark.

A gasp left your lips and Jungkook let go of your hand just as you turned around and looked up at him. Your smile showed pure happiness, a happiness he was responsible for and for some reason, that settled a spark of proudness in his chest.

---

"I care for you, Princess."

You closed your eyes, letting the tears fall freely down your cheeks.

"You can't."

Whispered words reached his ears. Making his heart shake with the need to hold you, promise you that it was going to be alright.

"But I do."

You opened your eyes, looking at Jungkook through blurry vision. His eyes were filled with tears and you felt an ache in your heart at the sight of his tears.

"You weren't supposed to. You were only meant to protect me, Jungkook. That's it, nothing else."

He sighed, his eyes lowering to your trembling hands resting on your lap. He had a sudden urge to hold them. To hold you. To comfort you.

"I know. Love is blind, Princess. No-one gets to choose."

---

Your eyes were locked with his, not daring to break the eye contact that was grounding your thoughts, in a way at least.

"I'm begging you to put yourself in my shoes, it is not correct for me to write to you in such a way. Your fiancé is in the palace and you could get in trouble if someone finds out."

The way he said "you could get in trouble" not "me", not "we". It was you who he was worried about. His heart feared for you and the fact of such care brought tears to your eyes.

"It is not appropriate, Your Highness."

He bowed slightly at you, a lump forming in your throat as realisation hit you. You were losing him. You were losing the only man who could ever own your heart. The man you cared for over everyone else. The man you loved. You were losing your Jungkook but, was he really yours to begin with?

You could never claim yourself as his so no, he wasn't yours. He wasn't yours to love and care, he wasn't yours to be with you out of what was needed to be.

You took a deep breath, holding your head high and swallowing the lump in your throat. You were never going to say you loved him, you weren't going to put yourself in such pain. You didn't want his pity. The misery it'd come afterwards.

"You are right,"

This time, Jungkook flinched at your tone. Your words were void of any emotion, a sound that he used to know was as warm like the summer days felt now cold like winter.

"it is not right for us to write to each other. It will not happen again."

Even though that was what his mind desired for you to say, his heart hurt at your words. As if someone had just stabbed him directly in the heart. Your words had such an impact on him. Not because you were the Crown Princess but because he loved you. He loved you with all his body, soul and mind. He loved you more than love itself. But he knew the cruel reality. Jungkook knew that you both could never be together.

---

"Yes. You?"

He nodded. Not hearing the commotion from before. The intruders had been defeated by the remaining palace guards. He could hear Yoongi talking to the king about investigating the bloodbath that had just occurred in the throne room.

Jungkook looked down at you. The hand that once rested on your shoulder travelled down your arm until his fingers locked with yours, holding your hand and giving it a firm squeeze in reassurance.

But the moment was short-lived. The moment in which you lost yourself in his dark orbs and relished in the feeling of his touch as innocent and reassuring as was to hold your hand.

You saw, in a matter of milliseconds how his eyes shifted from you to something standing behind you. His sword clanked to the floor and his hand left yours, leaving it cold once more. You suddenly found yourself in his arms as he twisted you both. Being him who's back faced the entrance way.

You gasped at the motion. But nothing could have been worse than the pained groan he let out a mere second after he spun you around.

Tears gathered in your eyes when you saw one of the remaining intruders holding a bow, pointing it at you. Your eyes widened when you saw an arrow had pierced him on the back.

"Jungkook!"

He began to slump forward and you did your best to ease his fall. The hand that held the bow you had used to defend yourself clattered to the floor as you knelt on the ground, while Jungkook nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck.

Jimin, who stood next to the entrance way, had seen everything unfold before his eyes. He was quick to run towards the last intruder and kill him with his own sword before he turned back to you and watched how you held Jungkook in your embrace.

"Jungkook! Stay awake, you have to stay awake! Do you hear me? Jungkook!"

---

“I just remembered,”

He stood up, his hands leaving your grasp and you felt them cool down without the warmth of Jungkook’s large hands over your own. Your gaze followed him while he searched in one of his drawers until he pulled something out and walked back to you. 

“I made you something for your birthday but with everything that happened, I never got the chance to give it to you.”

You were glad you were sitting, if not, you would have probably fainted with the amount of love you had for this man. Had he really made you something despite the terms you were in before the engagement ceremony? Did he really love you that much?

Of course he did. 

When Jungkook loved, he loved with all his heart. And right now, you were the owner of that heart of his. He gave it to you without a second thought and his little actions kept proving it to you over and over again. He grabbed your left wrist and you looked down, watching as he tied a red braided bracelet around your skin. He tightened it with the perfect amount of force, tight enough for it to not fall but not that strong that it would hurt your precious skin. 

“Do you like it?”

You couldn’t take your eyes off his gift. It was a beautifully braided bracelet with small pearls in it. 

“It’s perfect.”

You whispered. Afraid that if you spoke any louder the moment would be ruined. His heart skipped a beat with your words.

“No-one has ever given me such a beautiful gift. Thank you, Jungkook.”

He scratched the back of his neck, clearing his throat and looking away. But you were having none of that so you, once more, grabbed his hand and made him look at you. Your (e/c) eyes met his big doe ones and you said, with tears prickling at the corner of your eyes.

“Thank you, Jungkook. For everything.”

He smiled, a warm smile that made butterflies go wild in your stomach. 

“You are very welcome, my princess.”

---

"Aren't you cold?"

That voice he enjoyed so much reached his ears, making him look up at you. He smiled. Shutting the book as his arm rested next to him. Your feet crunched the snow below as you made your way towards him.

"Not really, princess. I kept myself busy."

You smiled. Looking up at him as your hands clasped themselves in front of you.

"Aren't you cold, Your Highness?"

His voiced concern made your heart flutter. You feared he could hear just how fast your heart was beating inside your chest.

"No, I just came from taking a walk with the Crown Prince."

Jungkook kept his gaze on you yet you were aware how something flashed in his eyes at the mention of your future husband. It was there in those dark orbs you loved to get yourself lost into, a second in which he let his emotions take control over him. Where he was vulnerable to your watchful eyes.

But it was gone as you blinked. He gave you no time to question whatever you had seen in his gaze as he asked you next.

"Are you ready for your wedding day?"

The atmosphere turned sombre. As if clouds had hidden the sun of a summer day during tea time. Soft snowflakes began falling from the darkening skies in a soft motion. Delicately even.

"You know I'm not. How could I?"

The smile that once adorned Jungkook's handsome features was now gone. A sad look covered his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that."

You took a deep breath. The little bubble of happiness and freedom he provided was now popped and you were brought to the harsh reality. You didn't say anything but you could feel his eyes on you as the both of you walked slowly through your private gardens.

The playful and innocent mood like a summer breeze had been clouded by the cold winds of winter. Of reality.

---

"You came."

You breathed out. Not really believing he was standing there, in front of you when you were literally getting married tomorrow.

"You called."

Jungkook answered. A fond smile was painted over his pink lips. His eyes twinkled with happiness upon seeing you. His hand reached forward in an unconscious manner. But he paused his motion before his palm graced your cheeks with his loving touch.

He lowered his arm and cleared his throat. Speaking once more to break the silence that fell between you two.

"I will not ask how you managed to send that note to me, Princess."

You let out a short laugh, blessing his ears with such a pure sound. A melody his heart cherished more than life itself.

"I have my ways, Officer Jeon."

He snorted at that, his frame relaxing in your presence as he leaned his side to the tree. His eyes never leave your own.

"Can't you call me by my name, Jungkook? Just once?"

Your plea made his eyes harden. You asked for the impossible but you desired more than oxygen to hear your name in his voice. That sweet voice that lived in your mind rent-free. That would console you in your memories when you were sad and would bring a smile upon your face in the most random times of the day.

"I cannot, Your Highness. It is against His Majesty's order to address you improperly."

You frowned.

"Even if I am asking you that?"

He sighed. A hand running though his dark hair. How you wished you could run your own hands through his locks. You could bet on your life they were as soft as cotton.

"I can't, princess. I'm sorry."

Silence stretched between you both. Somehow, the air felt colder, breathing got more challenging upon your rejected request.

"Why did you want to see me? Did you miss me that much?"

Jungkook said, trying to lighten the mood. A playful smirk over his lips. You looked up at him, your eyes as transparent as the lake's water; revealing your soul.

"I don't know if you'll want to speak to me after I say what's been on my mind for the last two days."

He lifted an eyebrow at your response. Curiosity got the best of him as he took a step away from the tree, now standing fully in front of you. The soft snow continues to dance around you.

"It can't be that bad, now can it? Just tell me, Princess."

You took a deep breath, your pulse quickening. This was it. The opportunity to speak your mind. To reveal your most intimate desire to him.

"I don't want to get married, Jungkook. I don't want to marry the Crown Prince. Jimin is worthy of the throne but... I don't love him."

He remained silent. His eyes turned from playful to serious the moment you mentioned your marriage. And he listened. He listened with all his attention to each word that left your lips.

"I can't marry a man I don't love. I want... I want to be with you. It is you who I want to marry, to spend the rest of my time with. Only you can make me happy, Jungkook and it breaks my heart every time I am reminded you won't be at the other end of the altar tomorrow."

Tears began to cloud your vision. But you tried to blink them back. This was what you had been trying to say to him. Yet your most desired thing in the word was still to get revealed.

"I want to leave, I want to leave this place, Kookie. I don't want to be a princess if it means I cannot be yours entirely. I burn for you, in every extent of the word. I cannot breathe when you are not near, I cannot think when I cannot see you close to me. You are everything to me."

A lump began forming in his throat. He felt exactly the same. Jungkook was glad you spoke of this first, you revealed your soul to him, your thoughts, your heart. You needed him. You lived with him, for him. It'd be a pointless life if you couldn't share it with him, he saw that now.

But the surprise when he heard you next couldn't be hidden even if he had wished to do so.

"I want to run away with you, Jungkook. "

---

"What are you doing outside at this hour, Jungkook?"

He untangled his hands from behind him and let them rest by his side, his eyes never leaving yours. Not knowing how his gaze alone was enough to make your heart thump wildly inside you.

"I couldn't sleep. I'll assume you are here because of the same reason."

You nodded, he took a step forward and your breath hitched in your throat. The action of inhaling was already painful as the air was cold, as cold as your neglected heart. Was he really going to take the risk of being this close to you? Another step. Perhaps he was. Then another. He certainly was.

It wasn't until he stood so close to you that you could feel his warm breath dust over your cold cheeks that you silently gasped and took a step back on instinct.

If anyone saw you both, there'd be problems. You didn't want that, not for Jungkook at least.

"And because I missed you. I had to see you. You do not only own this kingdom, you own my heart too and I couldn't live another day without seeing you, my Queen. For you are the one who rules my heart and soul."

You savoured the way his sweet words sprinkled your sour soul with sugar. It was delicious. To think that you were his, that he loved you, that he thought of you, dreamed of you. That he wanted you, perhaps even more strongly than how you wanted him.

You allowed yourself to drown in his sweet words. If only for a moment. Just a moment. A minute. A second would suffice. You didn't ask for more. You didn't want more. The only thing that you needed was his love and he gave it to you on a silver tray.

"Do you really want me that much?"

He nearly flinched at the way your voice was so soft, delicate even. Carrying emotions that were only reflected in your eyes.

"I want you with every fibre of my body and I can't stop thinking about that day. The day when you wanted to leave this place, I only want you to know that if the circumstances had been different, I would have escaped with you but taking you with me only meant death. I would rather die every day for not having you by my side than being the reason for your demise. I love you too much to do that to you."

You didn't realise you were crying until he reached his hand to wipe the tears but you took a step back. Hurt flashed in his eyes and that alone was enough for more tears to roll down your cheeks.

"You can't touch me, Jungkook. Not without the King's permission. Not even in an innocent way."

Your mumbled words reached his ears and he lowered his hand, he clenched it in a tight fist by his side but you didn't notice. Not when your eyes were glued to his own.

"And I understand why you didn't run away with me. I love you too much to get you killed. I'm so sorry I even proposed it on the first place."

His own eyes reflected the sadness in his soul in the form of tears. They glistened under the moonlight, little tears that he refused to let go; to set free.

"Do you really want me that much?"

A question you had already asked. A question he had already answered.

"Do you really want me that much, Jungkook? Even when I am another man's woman?"

He had to physically hold himself back so as to not take another step towards you. It pained him. His feet ached. His heart ached. It was painful to have you so close yet so far away at the same time yet he knew it had been like that since those warm summer days. Since the very beginning of the forbidden love story you developed with your royal guard.

Even when I am another man's woman...

Those words would repeat themselves in his head until the end of his days. A tear rolled down Jungkook's cheek, the chilly air hitting him and making him shiver.

You weren't his. Not anymore. You had never been his. At least not in this lifetime.

"You could never be tainted for me. You are and will always be perfect to hold my heart in your hands. And in our next life you will be mine, and if not in our next one or our next one after that. "

---

"Congratulations, Your Majesty."

Your steps halted when you heard his voice. A big banquet was held to announce your pregnancy to the village. Your father had come to bless you himself, he even told you he'd be staying during the last trimester of the pregnancy as he didn't want to miss the moment his grandchild were to be born.

You could only smile at that thought. But a gulp in your throat upon hearing that voice dissipated the thought, like fog when the sun came out. You turned around, eyes meeting with Jungkook's dark orbs.

A soft smile graced your lips yet he noticed how it didn't reach your eyes.

"Thank you, Jungkook."

There were so many things unsaid between you both. But have words ever been enough? He could see the sadness in your soul, the remorse, the longing and the love that existed in you. How Jungkook wished to go back to those summer days when everything was perfect, when you were happy along with him. When there existed no such barrier between you two of you being married to another man.

You could see it too, how his posture was tense, his eyes sharp with swirling storms of emotions in his dark gaze. You felt the yearning, the pain, the heartbreak from his part. And it crushed your heart even more for you knew he loved you but Jungkook couldn't step closer to you. Literally and figuratively.

He didn't know what else to say, all the courage he had managed to gather in the ceremony was gone now. Leaving him standing before you. His Queen; owner of his heart.

"I do not wish for this encounter to be like the last one, my queen. I only hope that you find the happiness you deserve for I cannot express how proud I am of you. Your child will resemble you in many ways, I am sure of it."

You wanted to run to him, hold his hand and wipe the tears that threatened to escape his eyes. But you could not. Dare not step such boundaries for his sake.

"You must find your happiness too, Jungkook. Live your life and live it right so that we can meet in our next lifetime."

---

A sharp pain made you gasp as your knees hit the floor, your dress puffing out around you. Jungkook was by your side the next second, concern was written all over his face while worry filled his eyes.

"Your Majesty, what's wrong? Please, talk to me."

You took a deep breath between your gasps and whimpers. Your hand grabbed his in your pain-induced mind, trying to ground yourself onto something, someone.

"I-It hurts... Jungkook, it h-hurts."

Your water broke the next second but you felt as if there was something wrong, this was not how a natural birth was supposed to start.

"Please... something's wrong. It- it hurts so much."

Tears gathered in your eyes as you tried to suppress the scream that threatened to escape your throat. You felt him let go of your hand, positioning his arms beneath your kneeling figure only to be lifted by him the next second.

Your arms circled his neck on instinct as you curled yourself in his hold. Jungkook began walking back to the palace at a fast pace, the weight of your body grounded his mind while at the same time numbed his senses. If you hadn't been in so much pain at that moment you would have noticed how his hands were trembling.

"Hold on, my Queen. You'll be fine, I'm here. It's alright."

He cradled you against his chest firmly, not wanting to let you go ever again now that you were in his arms. His heart feared for your safety, you were only eight months pregnant by now, he knew the risks of pregnancy and Jungkook knew he wouldn't be able to live if something were to happen to you.

Tears soaked his robes, your hand fisted his collar. Your small whimpers were like poisonous needles piercing his heart. It hurt. It pained him to see you in so much distress.

"Hold on, love. Please."

---

"You called for me, Your Majesty."

He bowed down at you and you sighed, realising how much you hated when he bowed at you when you'd go on your knees with only a word falling from his lips. He had that power over you. That way to command you. To make you feel.

"Jungkook."

The man before you lifted his gaze and your eyes met his once more. Had it been within any other circumstances, you'd have smiled and ran toward him. How you wish you could embrace him, how you wish you could kiss him and declare your love for him. How you wish you could love him freely.

You were sitting between blankets and cushions, taking rest after the hard labour. The prince lied next to you as he slept soundly while being wrapped up in luxurious fabric.

"I haven't seen you in a while."

He smiled. Not that smile that reached his eyes or that warmed your insides. It made you shiver with the sadness within it. Like a cold breeze on a winter day.

"I was told you were to rest, my Queen. Captain Min ordered me to give you some space, at least until you are feeling better."

You smiled, gesturing for him to sit in front of you, which he did. A moment of silence passed between you both. Your gaze lingered on his handsome features, drawing a map of him in your mind.

"I missed you."

He sighed at your whispered confession. Those words clawed at his heart with nothing but a heavy guilt that existed within him.

"My Queen... please."

You took a deep breath at his pleading, his begging. You looked aside as your heart constricted in your chest.

"Forgive me."

He looked at you with eyes full of emotions you weren't quick enough to grasp. Why must love hurt so much? Jungkook shifted his gaze from your figure, focusing on the little bundle where the prince, your son, slept peacefully.

"Congratulations on your baby. May prince Ha-joon live a long and happy life with his family."

---

"Kook!"

Ha-joon had said. Your hands felt cold against the warm cup, your soul froze when you looked up. There he was. Jeon Jungkook. You hadn't seen him in days. And before today there were only small peaks here and there followed by short greetings.

Jungkook turned to look at you, your eyes met his from across the garden. You felt your breath hitch in your throat at the mere sight of him. Your hands trembled around the cup, forcing you to put it away.

He bowed down at you slowly yet his eyes never left yours. Emotions invaded your body as you stood up from your chair. Hoseok noticed your actions and sat up, Ha-joon left his side and ran with his little legs where Jungkook was.

Your royal guard smiled down at your son and Hoseok stood up from the ground, walking the steps to where you stood.

"Your Majesty, are you alright? You look pale, should I walk you to your chambers?"

But you shook your head, your eyes following Jungkook's figure as he approached you with Ha-joon by his side. The little prince was telling him something that you couldn't hear and he smiled widely. Flashed him that bunny smile you loved so much and had missed just as fiercely.

Jungkook bowed down at you once he stood in front of you. Ha-joon looked up at the man next to him and mimicked his actions. Your heart clenched at the sight. Having the man you loved and your child who was your husband's son before you was too much for your heart.

It clenched inside you, it burned, it ached.

"Your Majesty."

Jungkook acknowledged you. You nodded softly at him and he rose to his full height. Ha-joon doing the same.

"Kook! Play, together."

Hoseok watched the interaction from where he stood. His own heart clenched at the sight of your hidden pain. You have always been an open book for your best friend. You had been able to hide your love from your father, even from your husband but not from Hoseok. He had known you his entire life. He knew you, he knew the core of your heart. He knew your unspoken words. He knew.

"Only if the queen allows it, my prince."

Jungkook's eyes found yours once more. A sad smile painted his lips. Ha-joon was a clear resemblance of you but also of his father and Jungkook was reminded once more of what he had lost the day you married Jimin. Of that dream that he wished would become his reality was instead a mountain of ashes. Of burnt dreams and wishes.

You smiled tightly at the pair in front of you, not wanting to deny sweet Ha-joon of his free days and innocent happiness.

"You may play, but please be careful."

---

"Jungkook."

His name coming from your lips was the sweetest melody he has ever heard. He had missed it. He had missed you. His eyes locked with yours and he nearly gasped at the sight of you laying on the soft bedding, your skin was paler than usual, your eyes were tired and your body was beyond weakened.

"Your Majesty."

He acknowledged you. Bowing softly at you without tearing his gaze from you. He saw you shift in your position, laying on your left side so you could see him properly. You smiled and in an instant his dark world was lightened by your existence. 

"Come closer, Jungkook. Come here."

Your hand extended towards him as if trying to reach him. He couldn't hold himself back any longer upon your innocent request as his legs moved with a mind of their own. Nearly jumping until he was kneeling by your side, his hand holding yours ever so softly.

“I heard… I heard that you are sick, my Queen. Is it true?”

Jungkook asked almost shyly. Not meeting your eyes as his own gaze was fixed on your joined hands. 

“It is.”

He sighed at your response. Feeling how his heart clenched within him. Tears watered his dark eyes and a lump grew in your throat at the sight of his sadness. 

“Don’t cry, Jungkook. Don’t waste your tears over me.”

He looked up at you, his expression hurt with your words. A frown was between his brows, eyes watered with his materialised sadness and a soul that he could no longer carry on his own. 

“How can you say that to me? I am dying with you, my Queen. Only you are capable of causing me the greatest pain yet it is you who eradicates it as well.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling your chest aching. Your mind was shutting down as you gazed at the man you loved with your entire being. 

“Forgive me.”

He shook his head, refusing to let his tears roll down his cheeks as his eyes roamed over your face as if trying to memorise all your little details in his mind. 

“It is I who should beg for forgiveness. I cannot protect you from this, I have failed you. I cannot prevent you from leaving me.”

A tear left the corner of your eye as you looked at him with so many unsaid things and raging emotions you were never able to pour out. It was too much. Too much love. Too much longing. Too much sadness. Too much anger. Your heart couldn’t take it any more.

“Maybe you can’t make me stay, but you gave me the opportunity of knowing what it was to love. Even when we couldn’t be together in the end, I still love you. I will always love you, Jungkook. In each… in each lifetime.”

—

A choked gasp left your lips as the memory dissipated from your mind like morning fog during a summer day. You didn't even realise you were crying until you sniffled and your hand came up to your face and your skin was wet with your own liquid sadness.

What kind of dream was this? What kind of cruelty had fate bestowed upon you? What kind of crime did you commit to feel this pain? You had loved, you had been loved only for it to melt like ice in those warm summer days when everything was perfect. You couldn't help the sob that escaped your lips as the realisation hit you:

You were the queen of the portrait. A representation of your old soul trapped in your past life as the unfortunate lover.

It wasn't a dream. It was a memory. Your memories from your past life and that love you were once denied to have. 

Hoseok was nearing the hall of ancient artefacts when his phone rang and he stopped in his tracks. Jungkook halted beside him and waited in silence.

"I'm sorry, I have to take this. I left Miss (y/n) at the end of this hall. You shouldn't have difficulty finding her."

Jungkook bowed softly, his warm eyes meeting the ones of Hoseok as he spoke in his professional voice once more.

"Don't worry, Mr. Jung. I'll do my best to assist her."

Hoseok nodded before he accepted the call and walked away, leaving Jungkook to sigh to himself before he ventured on the journey of finding the eccentric politician's daughter.

He walked among the centuries of history around him, through the halls that held art and a lost empire through time. Something about his line of work had always intrigued him. It made him wonder just how insignificant life was. Years, decades and centuries of history, of people that once walked on this Earth were now kept in glass boxes, a strange way of trying to preserve what should have died years ago.

It made him think about all the lives, all the deaths, all the heartbreaks from the past. All those untold stories buried in time. In every aspect, in every lifetime, in every way. It was simply melancholic to acknowledge all the history around him.

Jungkook walked, allowing his mind to wander as he thought of the beautiful politician's daughter. He thought of the times he had seen her, seen you in important events. Always looking so beautiful, always captivating the media. Always perfect, always next to your powerful father.

He reached the end of the hall but there was no sight of you. A sudden tightness gripped his heart fiercely, as if he were in pain, as if someone clutched his heart in its claws and it bled out.

As if on instinct, Jungkook walked to the royal hall. His feet moved on their own, his mind spiralled with all kinds of thoughts. With dream-like memories that he would have sworn were from one of those historical dramas he knew were popular among the hopeless romantics.

The sound of a sob echoed over the walls and it was as painful as being stabbed on the heart. He turned around with urgency only to spot you looking at a painting, your back was facing him while your left hand covered your mouth.

"Miss (y/n)?"

Your eyes widened when you heard that voice. That voice that was lost in your thoughts. That voice that was from your forgotten memories. That same voice that had broken your heart was now stitching it back together.

You turned around, your misty eyes met his in a dance of emotions you were, for once, able to dance along. Pink petals from the cherry blossoms in the garden behind fell slowly and when your eyes locked with Jungkook's he saw it as well.

He saw everything. All those memories, all those experiences. He saw his love. His sadness. His life. His reason for living. His flower. His darling. All in ancient history.

Jungkook saw his past life with you.

Like a movie in front of his eyes. A dream he wanted to reach. A memory he had promised to not forget but time was cruel and it was buried in the depths of his soul.

"Jungkook? It's you, isn't it?"

Your voice brought him back from his forgotten memories. He looked at you with a familiarity and a strangeness in his eyes. It was enough to make tears roll down your cheeks while his own eyes watered at the impossible sight before him.

"...princess? H-how?...."

You sobbed and he walked toward you. Unable to resist the sight of your tears. Perhaps this was the first time he met you in this lifetime but your souls have been in love for centuries. Your heart hadn't changed, his feelings remained the same. Love cannot be killed, not even by death.

He stood at arms length, eyes gazing down at you with the urge to know the truth. To know if you were that missing piece in his life. To know if this lifetime was worth-living.

"You found me. You said you'd find me."

Was this a dream? Was this a false memory? Was this real? He deeply needed for it to be real. Jungkook felt whole when he looked down at you. As if you were the missing piece for this puzzle called life. And you? You didn't know if he still wanted you. If Jungkook was your Jungkook. Your lost lover. Your forbidden romance. Your unfinished story.

"In every lifetime, princess."

His hand flexed next to him with the urge to touch you. To hug you and never let you go. To kiss you. To finally kiss you after all those denied moments he had before. To love you like he had dreamt long ago.

You wiped your cheeks with the back of your hand and something on your wrist caught his attention. It was a subtle glimpse of a red string around your wrist and he knew, in that moment he knew.

"You still wear it huh?"

A smile appeared on your lips at the same words he had spoken to you. A long time ago. Once upon a dream. In another lifetime. And the same answer is what he got. The same words that you had replied to him. The answer to his lovely sentence.

"I never took it off."

He was referring to your red bracelet. Something you remember always having, never truly knowing how you got to possess such a beautiful item but it simply felt right to wear it. So you did, you never took it off. As if it was engraved in your skin, almost like Jungkook's name was written in your soul and his whispered love was locked away in your heart.

"Can... Can I hold you?"

There was desperation in his voice. It sounded almost bitter that it pulled on your heartstrings. You nodded almost immediately. Burning just as him to feel him once more, to touch the man you had missed for centuries. To be held by your one and only love.

You were in his arms the next second. His hands pressed you against his chest as your own circled his waist. A long lost hug. A missed love. A romance out of time. But it was a timeless love nonetheless.

Something clicked inside you once you were held by Jungkook. As if your heart had been filled with his life, as if your broken soul was stitched back with just his simple touch. As if memories had been unlocked after your skin touched his.

"I missed you. I missed you so much, queen of my heart."

His hold on you tightened and you couldn't help but bury your face in his chest. How he had wished to do this in his first lifetime. How he wished he had been able to hold you like this. How he wished he had had you before just like this.

All the pain was gone. The tears were dried by his love. His hands held your heart so softly and purely you didn't want to part from him. You couldn't. You wouldn't. You wouldn't let go of him like that once more. You weren't going to lose him again. Not after all that pain, all that heartbreak, all those tears and all that yearning. Not again. Never again.

"I missed you too. So much, so much..."

Jungkook rested his chin at the top of your head, closing his eyes as he held you softly but firmly. It made him wonder just how much time you had been robbed in your past life. He realised just how evil fate had been to break you both like that. To separate two lovers is the worst cruelty of this fallen world.

But now, those cold days are over. Winter had passed. Even after centuries of living buried in the freezing snow, warmth had finally touched his heart. The soft rays of the sun were melting his once frozen soul. Your love did that. Only with you was he able to live in warmth. Only with you existed that flame in his heart that kept him alive.

You looked up at him and he met your gaze midway. It was magical. To look at the eyes you had unknowingly missed so much. How your soul was mourning the loss of Jungkook, how your life was always grey and cold was now warm and coloured in pink. Like the petals falling behind you.

One of his hands cradled your cheek and you smiled. Your heart was beating wildly in your heart at the proximity, at the love, at the emotions that came flooding like a waterfall from the sky.

You stood on your tippy toes only to press your lips against his. It was soft, delicate. Like a spring breeze. A kiss full of love. A healing kiss. A kiss that should have happened a long time ago. Jungkook kissed you back, burning at the feeling of your soft lips against his.

He tilted his head, deepening the kiss and you sighed, tightening your grip around his waist as he poured all those long lost emotions into that kiss. A kiss he had wished he could give you centuries ago. All the love, all the yearning, all the heartbreak, all the feelings of missing you, missing your warmth, your love, your touch, your existence were poured into that kiss.

A sealed kiss of timeless love.

"Don't ever leave me again."

He whispered against your lips. voice desperate with the promise of your love. Of your devotion. Of eternity.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Your answer was said in a soft voice, only meant for Jungkook to hear. He pressed his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes as he felt the memories slowly come back to him. During those golden summer days, rainy autumn evenings and cold winter nights. Everything about his life with you came back like a soft spring drizzle over his soul.

Perhaps fate had been cruel when he separated you from your Jungkook with death. But it now gave you the opportunity with your rightful lover. That soulmate you were destined to love since the very beginning of life.

Through life and death, only time gets in between. Through tears and pain, it is love that keeps the hope alive and through silent feelings and absent minds; it is time that keeps them together in a dance with a melody only meant for the tangled lovers to hear.

In every lifetime, in every way, in every universe and in every season. Love is stronger than death. 

February/16/2024

~Masterpost

Please let me know your thoughts in the comments, darlings!

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