#listen it may not actually be important but it matters TO ME

[rosehipmarmalade]

i'm annoying so i cannot get past it when films and tv shows take place in paris and the order of the geographic locations or the metro lines they take don't make any sense

[keelanrosa]

terfs when a study shows literally anything positive about trans people/transitioning: 'hm i think this requires some fact-checking. Were those researchers REALLY unbiased? Because if they were biased this doesn't count and if they weren't knowingly biased they probably were unconsciously biased, woke media affects so much these days. Have there been any other studies on this? Because if there haven't been this could be an outlier and if there have been and they all agree that's a bit odd, why aren't there any outliers, and if there have been and any disagree we really won't know the truth until we very thoroughly analyze them all, will we? Were there enough subjects for a good sample size? Did every single subject involved stay involved through the whole study because if they didn't we should be sure nothing shady was going on resulting in people dropping out. Are we 110% sure all the subjects were fully honest and at no point were embarrassed or afraid to admit they didn't love transitioning to the people in charge of their transition? Are we 110% sure none of the subjects were manipulated into thinking they were happy with their transition? In fact we should double-check what they think with their parents, because if the subjects and their parents disagree it's probably because they've been manipulated but their cis parents have not and are very unbiased. How many autistic subjects were there because if there weren't enough then this doesn't really study the overlap between autistic and trans and if there were too many then we just don't know enough about what causes that overlap to be sure this study really explains being trans and isn't just about being autistic. How many AFAB subjects were there because if there weren't enough this is just another example of prioritizing AMAB people and ignoring the different struggles of girls and women and if there were too many how do we know sexism didn't affect the results. Was the study double-blinded? We all know double-blinded is the most reliable so if this one wasn't that's a point against it even if the thesis literally physically could not be double-blinded. Look i'm not being transphobic, i want what's best for trans people! Really! But as a person who is not trans and therefore objective in a way they cannot possibly be, i just think we should only take into account Good Science here. You want to be following science and not being manipulated or experimented upon by something unscientific, right?'

terfs when they see a study of 45 subjects so old it predates modern criteria for gender dysphoria and basically uses 'idk her parents think she's too butch', run by a guy who practiced conversion therapy, 'confirmed' by a guy who treated the significant portion of subjects who didn't follow up as all desisting, definitely in the category of 'physically cannot double-blind this', completely contradicted by multiple other studies done on actual transgender subjects, but can be kinda cited as evidence against transitioning if you ignore everything else about it: 'oOOH SEE THIS IS WHAT WE'RE TALKIN BOUT. SCIENCE. Just good ol' unbiased thorough analysis. I see absolutely no reason to dig any deeper on this and if you think it's wrong you're the one being unscientific. It's really a shame you've been so thoroughly brainwashed by the trans agenda and can't even accept science when you see it. Maybe now that someone has finally uncovered this long-lost study from 1985, we can make some actual progress on the whole trans problem.'

[empyreanmirror]

sunflowers in our hair

[ranboolivesaysstuff]

IMPORTANT POST PLEASE READ

Im gonna be honest and open for a sec, and please do not take this as "oh I HATE my community or I dont like the people who watch me" but honestly as of late (and I did highlight this during the mcc bit), ive felt like I havent been able to really be in my own community simply because of the constant way that "discourse" is handled. Making vague posts and not really tackling issues in a good way, all that is going to do is just show people a big "THIS COMMUNITY BAD" sign and not actually help anything within the community, all its going to do is have the good and potentially good people leave or not join in the first place. The way that discourse is treated that ive seen has been the main reason why I have started to try to distance myself, which has been the most heartbreaking thing I have had to do. I want problems to be solved in a mature, civil way, with either a dm or a reply, not an entire vague thing that only says "bad things are happening" and doesnt elaborate on anything or barely elaboratesa and only gives people on both the inside and outside a bad sign of what the community is. Making posts whenever something happens being like "here we go again" is only going to highlight the wrong things, and actually DOESNT help the issue at all! The problems should be discussed directly with the people who are doing said problems FIRST! Bring attention to behaviors and things that arent good DIRECTLY! And also, YOU DO NOT HAVE TO!!! It is not your duty as a viewer or fan of me to be involved in any of this if you do not want to! Just enjoy the content and make silly posts! As someone who constantly tried to fix and get into every problem as it was happening, it took a huge toll on my mental health, and I want you guys to just be able to enjoy the content without having to worry about what you say about it! Be constructive! Dont make posts again just being like "wow this community is so bad" because that doesnt solve literally anything! If you have enough passion to make the posts saying "wow this community is bad" then only post about that, you are only spreading that negative message, and not uplifting anything of actual value! And if the person you are trying to help is not willing or not listening, BLOCK! MUTE! DONT BRING MORE ATTENTION TO THE PERSON IF THEY ARE NOT BEING A GOOD PART OF THE COMMUNITY!!!! I know I say that if I see problems I will call them out, but I shouldnt have to babysit every single time a thing happens within the community as that just isnt a healthy way for a creator or a community to be handled. This does not mean that I do not care about the issues or dont want them fixed, rather it shouldnt take me having to make some grand statement every single time something happens it should take only your own self reflection and self awareness. And to add onto this, make sure that every once in a while no matter who you are you think and have that self reflection, you should be open to being willing to learn and grow as a person! And again, I do NOT want anyone taking this as "Wow this community is terrible" but rather that we just have things that need to be fixed and changed and THAT IS OKAY! I do not hate the community, I care so much about it that I want it to be a silly place for my content again! I want it to be the reason why people get into what I do because of it again! And I want to be able to just have fun and relax without having to worry about how every single thing that I may say could have someone stirring things up that simply dont help or solve anything! Take care of yourselves. And this isnt coming from a place of "I hate the community as a whole" but rather again I want to be able to exist and make content that we can all enjoy without having to worry about walking on eggshells around me or around eachother! At the end of the day im just a fella that wants to make silly videos for you all, and you are people who enjoy said videos. Nothing more. Nothing less.

[sorryimananti-romantic]

Limitless

servant?san x queen!reader (more like king's right hand!san)

royal au, forbidden love

word count: 28k

genres and warnings: a lil fluff, a lil angst, smut (mdni!), reader is in a contract marriage but no actual cheating happens, abusive husband, violence and blood, lmk if i missed smth

synopsis: you're the princess of utopia, queen of eden by marriage to the king. for a whole year of marriage, you've taken his abuse but you're planning his downfall and you find an unexpected ally in the king's right hand choi san. he not only helps you plan but also shows you how it is like to be truly loved and wanted.

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (she wrote royal au san and then she triggered me to write this)

You had long since stopped listening to the court members defend their opinions on revising the trade system- if you were ever once interested in how the kingdom ran, you’d only found yourself losing interest with each passing day- even though the kingdoms in question might be two of your own- one by birth and one by marriage.

Marriage, you scoffed internally. What a joke.

As one of the maids poured red wine into your glass- the only thing that seemed to keep you sane these days- you thanked her and struggled to contain the sigh when the king clinked against his glass to get everyone’s attention, silence spreading throughout the hall in an instance. The court members across the table looked eagerly at their young king who met eyes with everyone with a smile before he cleared his throat.

“I hear your concerns, and I hear your opinions. If I may… Lord Kang? What do you suggest we do to balance our imports and exports? We do not want the public to wonder if we’re relying too much on Utopia.”

You cast a glance towards the man seated across the table from you, his eyes fixated on Lord Kang who got up and began, “We’ve always had good relations with Utopia, especially after the union of our kingdoms not too long ago, Your Highness. I think if there is no conflict in the dealings, as long as the people get what they want, it won’t matter even if we rely too much on Utopia-”

“Are you suggesting that we actually rely too much on Utopia? Because I did not imply that that is the case. I simply do not want the people to stir… rumours.”

You watched the men around Lord Kang hush him. You stifled the urge to roll your eyes- it had always been like this-

“What does Her Majesty think?” Lord Jung’s voice brought you back to your senses and you straightened a bit, your eyes involuntarily travelling to meet the King’s whose expressions were unreadable yet again.

“I’ll have to agree with Lord Kang,” you finally said and a murmur sounded across the room. “Trade has run constantly for a decade now. I do not think there is a reason to worry about the public yet. As far as balancing our imports and exports are concerned… I am not against the idea if the production of trade materials is stable. But overall… I don’t think it will create much of a difference. What does Lord Park have to say about this?”

You managed to steer the discussion to Lord Park who further added to your point and you smiled to yourself as the people in the room nodded along and Lord Choi, the King’s Right Hand, concluded the agenda. You made the mistake of meeting your husband’s eyes once more and this time, you didn’t miss the glint in his eyes.

Your husband. The youngest king in Eden’s history, adored by the public, known for his brains. His brains had once attracted you-

And then you married him and found out just what sort of a person he truly was. A routine occurrence now, something you were sure you would be experiencing tonight too.

And sure enough, after a hearty dinner (though your appetite decreased with each passing second) and chats with the people of the court, when you retired for the night, you went to your room accompanied by guards- guards who would station themselves a good distance away whenever the King would return to his chambers. You never met eyes with the guards- you didn’t want to see any sort of pity in their eyes for you. Your personal maid was enough for that, though she never offered a word of kindness- you wondered if that would be considered treason or if the maid was just being cautious.

After taking a bath, you changed into a black silk nightgown that covered almost all of your skin. Maybe that would provoke the King less. You were just wondering if you should change into something that would make visible the marks your husband would leave on you tonight when you heard the sound of the doors opening- a sound that made your hair raise even after almost a year of your marriage. You heard the maids greet the King before scurrying off, and the door shut with a click. You remained sitting at the vanity brushing your hair while he leaned against the doorframe, inspecting you.

“Quite talkative today, are we?”

You didn’t respond. You still didn’t know whether responding made it better or worse. 

“I just need to ask you one thing, y/n,” he scoffed, running a hand through his light brown hair and approaching you slowly, coming to stand behind you so you could see him in the mirror. Your hands lay limp in your lap and you didn’t dare to meet his eyes in case he would think you were challenging him-

“Look at me when I talk to you.”

You did, and you knew instantly that there was no avoiding what was coming next. He placed his hands on your shoulders, squeezing them painfully. 

“How dare you challenge me during court?”

“I did not challenge you-”

“Do you think just because you’re the Princess of Utopia and Queen of Eden, you’re more powerful than me? Why don’t you run the kingdom then? I could sit back and relax-”

“You’re hurting me,” you managed to whisper, not being able to tolerate the pain of his fingers digging into your shoulders as if he wanted to rip you to shreds.

And perhaps he did. It had become a norm now, and you would always go someplace else. The pain didn’t register when he pushed you to the ground. You didn’t hear his screams though you could tell he was angry by the way he looked at you, eyes bloodshot. You weren’t in control of yourself when you would instinctively raise your arms to protect yourself from the object being thrown at you, from him-

Though you were no match for him. He would effortlessly pin you and scream in your face and do whatever he liked with you.

And with each passing day, you wished it would somehow be over. Your will to fight back was dimming now. So you let the King, loved by all of Eden and Utopia, your husband, have his way until he grabbed your face, yelled a warning that you didn’t process, and finally stormed out of the room with a shive. The flashes of black and red in front of your eyes finally began to clear, instead seeping in your skin and registering as pain.

Pain. Burning, endless pain.

You took a deep sigh, not making the effort to move. The cold floor against your cheek was comforting enough. You lay there sprawled on the floor, your hair all around you and matted to your skin, your eyes fixated on the broken ornament that had been a wedding gift from your mother. You wished to gather the pieces and glue them back together as if that could reverse the events of tonight, but you knew that it would never be whole again. 

You would never be whole again-

The sound of the door creaking open yet again was what finally made you snap up with panic welling in your chest and you crawled to the shards, trying to hide your wounds and gathering the shards in your hands at the same time- you could protect that, you could still save it-

“Your Majesty.”

You froze in your spot- that was not the King. That voice was the next familiar thing. Your shoulders relaxed just a bit though the tension in your muscles was finally starting to hurt. You remained silent and continued to gather the big pieces of what was once a glass crane while you heard the man inch towards you and finally settle down on one knee beside you.

If you were expecting another reprimand, you didn’t get that. Instead, he heaved a deep sigh before gently picking the shards from your hand and spreading a handkerchief on the ground, collecting them in it. You handed him the rest and finally looked at him, your hair obstructing your vision.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

He pursed his lips, folding the pieces gently in the cloth and getting up to place it back on your vanity. He looked down at you and shook his head in disappointment-

“I’ve had enough of that sorry excuse of a man.”

You raised a brow- that was quite a contrast from the first and only time he had seen you in this state. You pushed your hair back, noticing the fire in his eyes-

Lord Choi San, the King’s Right Hand. His loyal servant. He really shouldn’t be here.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, though he wasn’t having any of it. “Please do not do anything stupid on my behalf and leave. I am okay-”

“No, you’re not,” his voice was low and he shook his head. He took one step towards you and then he stormed out of the room, silently clicking the door behind him. You looked around at the mess your husband had created and wondered where you should start fixing it- from yourself? You were far too tired for that, so you got up with pain shooting in your left limbs from your fall. You started picking the objects around the room, your thoughts drifting to Lord Choi.

The first time he had witnessed you in that state, you had heard urgent knocks on the main door. The King had just stormed off to his private chambers after venting out his frustrations on you. Thinking it was your maid who, at that time, used to come after his sessions to clean up after him, you opened the door only to find someone else entirely.

Lord Choi’s eyes first met your tear-stained ones and then travelled to the bruise on your cheekbone and you saw recognition click in his face as horror washed over him. 

“Where is… the King?” He managed to ask, his eyes scanning your figure and you folded your arms in an attempt to hide the bruises forming there.

“Probably where he has been since the day we got married. You, of all people, should know you will rarely ever find the King in our shared chamber at night time… Lord Choi San.”

He frowned and turned to leave but then he turned towards you again, making you pause in the middle of shutting the doors. 

“Why do you let him do this to you?”

He sounded so angry at that moment. He had never been angry at you- in fact, as the King’s Right Hand you interacted with him once in a while and always found him warm and friendly, but he sounded so angry now.You wondered who his anger was directed at for a brief moment but you were far too tired to care, so you responded with a glare before you shut the door in his face.

“I may be higher in status than your King but as his wife, I am powerless.”

That had been about a month ago. You wondered why Lord Choi had come inside your chamber this time without warning, without knocking. Did he hear everything? Did he witness the King leaving and decided to check on you, because you were pretty sure he wouldn’t have dared to enter without permission if the King had been inside-

The door opened yet again and you watched in surprise as Lord Choi extended a hand for you, a first-aid kit in his other hand. 

“You really shouldn’t be here-”

He groaned and bent down to grab your wrist and gently lifted you up, steering you to the chair you had been sitting on before all this happened. He placed the kit on the vanity and went to grab himself a chair from the other end of the room, seating himself in front of you. Silently, he opened the kit and took out tweezers, extending his hand and looking at you. You rolled your eyes and placed your right hand in his palm so he could extract the shard he had noticed earlier. 

“Did you have to pick up the glass?” He tsk-ed as you winced when he pulled out the shard. 

“It was a gift from my mother,” you explained.

“I figured, but did you have to hurt yourself more?”

You pursed your lips. “If the King comes back, you and I are both dead. You know that, right?”

“If I cared, I wouldn’t be here in the first place,” he muttered. He gently applied ointment on your finger where the shard had been, and then he looked at you for permission before rolling your sleeve up a bit where he had spotted another bruise earlier, applying the ointment there as well. He asked you to tell him where else it hurt and you rolled your other arm so he could inspect your elbow as well. Finally, his gaze fell on your neck and he waited for your permission. You looked in the mirror-

There was a scratch alright, but you looked… horrible. You tucked your hair back- at least your face was okay this time, though your eyes looked so hollow. You turned back to him and he muttered a ‘sorry’ before scooting closer and drawing your hair away from your neck, leaning in and applying the ointment on your neck- so carefully, as if he could hurt you. His hand on your shoulder, that he probably didn’t realise was there yet, was absently squeezing it reassuringly- quite a contrast to how your husband had done that. 

The air felt thick as he leaned back a little to inspect your neck. He met your eyes and you scoffed out loud. 

“If you look at me like that and hold me so gently, I might end up catching feelings for you, Lord Choi San. I’m a married woman.”

To your surprise, his permanent subtle frown melted and he failed to stifle his smile, leaning back as he looked down in an attempt to hide his face, his dark hair falling on his forehead. He looked up at you to find you attempting to stifle your own smile but also failing, and you both shared a short laugh despite the situation.

Lord Choi shook his head, exhaling. “I’m sorry. I was here earlier and I heard the noise. I should have intervened earlier- or done something about this. I’m really sorry. I should have done something before it got this bad.”

“And what could you have done?” You cocked your head. “You can’t tame a monster. You’re only human.”

He didn’t look pleased to hear that and with a disappointed look, he started to pack the kit, your eyes fixated on him all along. He got up and passed a subtle bow, turning to leave-

And perhaps, with the last shreds of strength left in you, you grabbed the edge of his sleeve, stopping him. He froze for a moment before he turned, and for the first time, he spotted vulnerability in your eyes, realising he hadn’t seen you like this ever before- not that time he first saw you in this state, not even earlier tonight when you scrambled to hide your wounds. He wondered how you could be so powerless when you wore a crown on your head.

You tightened the grip on his sleeve, ignoring the tugging feeling in your heart from the way he looked at you. “You don’t have to do anything to the King. I… I will kill him myself.”

Something in Lord Choi’s heart both broke and healed- healed due to your resolve. He put his hand over yours, squeezing it. “You don’t have to get your hands dirty… Your Majesty. I will do that for you.”

A silent understanding passed between the two of you. You understood that now was not the time to discuss this so you let him go, but for the first time-

For the first time after coming here, you felt like you could accomplish anything.

—--------------------------

For the next couple of days, you remained in your chambers, not even bothering to get sun. The King would occasionally drop by and pretend you didn’t exist or have one of his servants come by to get your signature on whatever document he needed it on. You were always careful to hide your wounds- you simply did not want anyone to make stories about why you were in that state, so you would always welcome the servants- which in the long run benefited you since they were always reliable sources on what was actually going on in the castle.

You learned that the King was not too pleased with the court session of that day, with everyone concluding that the trade dealings between Eden and Utopia should carry on as before. You had suspected right after marriage that the King had plans to disrupt the trade business and though so far most of his efforts had been in vain- after all, he had to respect the opinions of the members of his court too- he was already involved in some underground dealings. That was a rumour you heard and you just needed someone to confirm it.

So you spent your days recovering wondering if that really was the case, how could you get back at the King while maintaining your status as his wife and not losing power as the Queen? Would you have to involve the court somehow and bring attention to the matter? You knew the King had only married you to strengthen the relations between the two kingdoms and though you believed that earlier, you were beginning to wonder if the King had some other ulterior motive.

Sometimes you found yourself wondering where it had all gone wrong. Yes, marriage amongst royals was usually done with intent- the partners were always selected because of their power, influence or some other legitimate reason. You knew that, however…

Would it have been so bad if the King and you could have had a normal relationship? If you two had become friends, at least? If he had at least respected you as the Princess of Utopia? You sighed, running your fingers over the teacup you had been holding for about half an hour now. The tea had long gone cold. 

And then there was the King’s Right Hand. Choi San. The only man who ever gave you butterflies.

And that was not just on the night a couple days ago, no. From the beginning, you had admired him for his relationship with the King- back when things were still peaceful and the King talked to you properly at the very least. He had usually acted as the mediator when you discussed business with the King. As his Right Hand, he usually accompanied him everywhere and his visits to your chambers in the early months of your marriage had been quite frequent. At that time, you had thought he was quite warm and considerate. But when the King started acting differently, his visits became less frequent and perhaps, at one point, you started looking at him as an accomplice.

And then he saw you that one night and you realised he never knew what was really going on between the King and you. Between that night and the recent one, he seemed to have avoided you on purpose, but if he had…

Why did he help you?

You were still zoning out when a knock sounded on your door and one of the maids stationed in the corner went to open the door. 

“Lord Choi is here, Your Majesty.”

And there it was. The butterflies were back. You wondered if it was from nervousness.

“Let him in,” you said, and the maid bowed, letting the King’s Right Hand in and moving to the next room. Lord Choi, dressed in his deep blue uniform, made sure no one was in earshot before bowing to you and seating himself in front of you.

“Tea?” You offered. “Though it might have gone cold now.”

His eyes travelled to your cup, still half full. “Thank you, but I’ll decline. I need your signatures on… these documents.”

You leaned forward as he handed you the documents, briefing you about their contents. With a sigh, you flipped through them, signing them until you reached the last page and found a note wedged in. You frowned, opening the note and reading:

The King won’t be coming here tonight- he is having drinks with his pals. Permission to come here tonight?

You looked at him. He didn’t give away any hint of emotion on his face- trained as a servant to not react to such situations. You gave him a subtle nod and handed the documents back. He bowed and left, leaving you with your bland tea.

Night time couldn’t have approached any slower. You told your maids you had a headache and wished to rest so they dressed you up in your nightwear and tucked you in bed. As soon as they left, you were up and pacing in your room, waiting and waiting-

And then giving up and lying on the bed, almost dozing off-

Until you heard very low, subtle knocks you could have dismissed as background noise. You were up and going for the door within a second and you opened it to the man you had waited for all day, who glanced around before entering.

“Any maids inside?”

“None,” you assured him and he nodded, relaxing a bit. 

“There’s a passage to escape in your room, right?” He asked and you nodded. “Then that’s where we’ll have our meetings so I can, uh, leave if we’re compromised.”

“Lord Choi… You don’t have to sound so serious, you know,” you said- you simply couldn’t help it. He side-eyed you before motioning for you to lead him to your room.

“Just call me San.”

You resisted the urge to pause and look at him, simply nodding and the two of you sat on the sofa in your room. An awkward, almost uncomfortable silence fell as the reality of the situation started to sink in.

The King’s Right Hand in the Queen’s room in the middle of the night. His presence alone could warrant for an execution, let alone the treason you were both about to plan. San shifted awkwardly towards you, scanning your figure once. 

“Are you… okay?”

“Yeah,” you took a deep breath. “Yeah… I’m okay. The maids take care of me.”

San looked down, his fists clenching and unclenching as he wondered what to say, where to begin. You could understand his frustration. You decided to ask him something then.

“How long have you been the King’s Right Hand?”

“Long enough,” he replied. “Before that, I would accompany his father’s Right Hand. I’ve grown up here, actually, but my parents left the castle after what happened to the King and the Queen.”

He was referring to the incident that took the life of your husband’s parents- the ship sinking during their travels a few years ago. That was the first time you had visited Eden, for the funeral as a representative of Utopia since your father couldn’t make it. You recalled being impressed by how the son who just lost his parents had stood tall and assured his people that Eden would continue to thrive as it had during his parents’ reign. You also remembered your first interaction with the then Prince, soon to be crowned King, where you offered your condolences and touched on various subjects. After a proposal came only a year later, you wondered if you had made a good impression on him after all.

Oh, how you wished you could go back to that time so you never stepped foot here.

“Has he… has he always been like this?”

San looked at you- he didn’t find any hint of pain in your eyes, rather… you almost looked as if you were pitying the King for being broken were it not for the fire in your eyes. Because broken was the only word San could call the King now. No man was supposed to treat a woman this way. 

“I… I don’t know,” San admitted. “He’s never been one to waste time seeking pleasure before marriage, and I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t realise what was happening sooner.”

“It’s not like you could have done anything,” you sat back, turning to your right to pour yourself a glass of wine. You offered one to San but he refused. “What is your plan now? If your King learns what you’re doing behind his back… you realise what could happen, right?”

“I do,” he matched your gaze and you were satisfied to see that there was not a hint of doubt in his eyes. “I won’t ask you to trust me- that would be asking for a lot, but… I can help you if you tell me what you wish to do. I have already tried talking to the King about a month ago, but…” San tsk-ed in disappointment. “I don’t think I can talk him through this. And he’s never been one to keep his servants close. As a servant, I can’t dare to talk back to him.”

“Yet here you are,” you smiled, swirling the red liquid in your glass. “If it were up to you… how would you plan the downfall of the King?”

San flinched at the words- even though you had barely spoken them loud, he wished you had whispered them. But perhaps you deserved to scream those words in the open. “Well… I’ve thought about it. Realistically, if you demand a divorce, I don’t think the King will give you what you want. It might worsen the situation.”

“That’s right…” you nodded. “Carry on.”

San took a deep breath, thinking. “You cannot just go and tell someone about how you are being mistreated. The people serve the King and he holds the power. It would cost him nothing to silence someone who dares to speak out.”

“Correct. And that leaves…”

“A few options. I would not suggest actually killing the King,” San winced at the thought. “Even though it’s tempting. But there are fates worse than death… don’t you agree?”

You nodded. It looked like you and him were both thinking the same thing. 

“I think the only way you could gain something from this- because with all due respect, you shouldn’t just leave empty-handed,” San scoffed and a faint smirk crawled on your lips, “The King needs to be publicly ridiculed.”

You whistled. “What would the King say if he heard you talk like that?”

San passed you a desperate look and you chuckled to yourself. “You don’t have to be so tense. At least not with me, not here, where you’re just San and I’m just… y/n. But carry on.”

San wasn’t having any of it. “A trap of sorts. The King isn’t the saint the public makes him to be, so our only bet is to make his secret dealings public- ones which don’t benefit our kingdom. And as the Right Hand… I have intel. I just need to check a few things and then I can provide you all the information you need. It is up to you to decide what to do with it, and… you can use me in whatever way you want. I am at your disposal… Your Majesty.”

You nodded slowly, letting it sink in. “We shall plan together then?”

“Together,” he agreed, “If that is what you want.”

“I have a few… conditions.”

“Of course,” his brows furrowed as he focused on you. “Please.”

“First of all… you should start using the secret passages more- if a guard spots you entering here, it won’t be good.”

“Okay, that shouldn’t be a problem,” San agreed. 

“Right,” you nodded. “I’m blindly betting my life on you so try not to betray me, will you? Or at least let me know if you need to switch sides-”

“That- that won’t happen,” San let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he looked down. “My mother didn’t raise me like that.”

You smiled at his words. “She sounds wonderful. And San?” He looked at you and you continued, turning fully towards him. “You have to promise me something. Promise me that if you ever hear something or walk in to the King doing something to me… you will not interrupt-”

“No-”

“Let me finish,” you raised your hand and he sighed, giving in. “I already have a plan in my head, and honestly, it’s a miracle that you’re here right now. But in my big plan… I have to let the King do whatever he does to me. I cannot have you destroying everything I’ve worked for. You have to understand that if you interrupt and expose yourself… we’re both done for. We lose. I cannot lose now, do you understand?”

San looked like he was struggling to answer and you scooted closer, putting a hand on his clenched fist, making him relax a bit. “You’re already helping me out enough by simply being here. Your presence… it’s enough. I feel like I can conquer now that I know I’m not alone,” you let out a short laugh and San smiled at that. “But please. It’s a sacrifice I have to make to win.”

San put a hand over yours, stealing a glance before shaking his head. “I cannot promise, but… I will try.”

You nodded absently, focused on his firm grip on your hand, his rough fingers caressing yours almost lovingly. You shook your head to draw yourself out of the trance. You knew you were starved for affection but you hadn’t realised how much impact such a gesture would have on you. You squeezed his hand before drawing it away.

“That’s it, then…” you said. “I just have to go over a few things. You can come into my room during nighttime- it’s not like I really sleep. I’ll unlock the secret door,” you pointed to the door behind the tapestry. “You just have to make sure the King won’t be coming back for the night before you do.”

“Alright,” San got up and looked around. “There’s another door in your office, right? I might use that instead. It connects with my room too.”

“That’s better, just don’t walk into the King gloating in my office and you’re fine- it’s where he goes to ‘vent’,” you said and he scoffed.

“I’ll take my leave then. Good night, Your Majesty.”

Before he could exit the room, you said, “San? I have another condition.”

San turned, raising a brow. “And what’s that?”

“It’s y/n for you.”

San chuckled at that despite the anger that had been roiling in him since he saw you in that state. “Whatever you say… Your Majesty.”

With that, he left, leaving you smiling into the distance for a long time.

—-------------------------

The next few days, you remained as invisible as you could. You had a few meetings and a party scheduled that you had to attend along with the King, but you were careful not to challenge him in court. You did not want the King to wonder why there was suddenly life in your eyes, so you made sure to keep your eyes unreadable.

Because there was, suddenly, life in your eyes. Hope. You were beginning to feel hopeful and you knew how dangerous that was, but you couldn’t help it. Not when you finally had someone who was going to lay his life on the line for you. Now you couldn’t help but smile when something reminded you of him- whenever you planned in your head, or when you dared to note a few things down on paper only to burn it in the end because you could leave no trace… 

You would find yourself smiling as you watched the pages burn in the fireplace.

It wasn’t too hard for you to gather information about the King’s weak point. The thing about people was that they loved a good gossip session. And since the King had made the mistake of not limiting your social attendance, whenever you met up with the wives of earls or dukes, drinks would be passed and their lips would loosen. They didn’t even comprehend how dangerously the information could be used. Over the few months of your marriage, you had enough gossip in your brain that you could iron out the details for. You had a few open spots you could attack the King for- 

But you would wait for San. You needed to hear him first, because no matter how much information you had gathered, nothing could come close to what San would have as the person who knew every move his King made. 

You wondered if San would agree with you on one of these things, and you wondered which of them even held leverage, because if you went in blindly with one of these, it wouldn't end well for you and whoever sourced this information. You didn’t want to risk dragging anyone else. 

“Your next move… Your Majesty?” Your maid asked, looking at you and then at the chessboard you had been staring at for far too long.

“Oh, forgive me, I got lost in thought,” you chuckled, moving one of the rooks across the board. “Isn’t it quite late? Have you had dinner yet?”

“Not yet,” the maid admitted and you narrowed your eyes in disappointment, making the young girl laugh. 

“We can continue later,” you marked the moves on the notepad and handed it to the maid who began to wrap up the board. “You should have dinner on time. You’ve got other duties too. Me? I only have to sit and look pretty.”

The maid grinned at that and bowed before leaving and you smiled at her. She was the only one who had been kind enough to keep you occupied with distractions- often bringing board games or embroidering material for when the King was away and you were all alone with your thoughts. Perhaps, she had heard from the only maid who knew how abusive the King was. Perhaps, the King had ordered the young girl to keep you entertained. You didn’t know and you couldn’t ask.

The King was on a one day trip to the neighbouring city for some ‘business’ dealing. He often went there and you were starting to suspect if there was actually some business there or if he had someone just like you in his family house. You ate dinner and waited for bedtime but the King arrived back before that, entering your chamber.

“Good evening,” you called, his maids helping him take off his coat. You glanced behind- San wasn’t with him. “I hope you had a nice trip.”

“Yeah, nothing much,” the King shrugged off the extra layers and settled on the couch. You knew that it meant that he wasn’t in a sour mood (yet) so you relaxed a bit, ordering the maids to bring some fresh tea for him. 

“Would you like to take a bath before you settle down?”

“I’ll have tea first, I’m pretty tired,” he rubbed his face and then looked at you, just having recalled. “Did you attend the dinner at the Earl’s place last night?”

“I did,” you said and he nodded in approval. “They seem to be doing quite well recently. His wife couldn’t stop flaunting her new diamond necklace.”

The King scoffed. “I told the Earl to keep it subtle, but what man can resist a celebration when he scores a good deal?”

“And what deal was that?” You crossed your legs casually, hoping to get something out of him.

“Remember the funds we were keeping aside for the army?” he asked and you nodded. “A few officials from Wonderland offered us more funds in an exchange for the blueprints of our latest weapons.”

You made an impressed face. “Sounds like a nice deal, but I wouldn’t trust Wonderland too much. They have a history of turning on you when times are tough.”

“Yeah, that’s because you’re Utopian,” the King laughed. “Utopia and Wonderland have always been at each other’s throats.”

That wasn’t the truth, but you decided to not argue. You were far too tired to have another session with him. “So that is how the wife got those diamonds, huh?” You laughed. “Well deserved, then.”

“Would you like some too?” The King looked at you, eyes expectant. 

You absolutely hated when he looked at you like that. At first, you thought it was an offer to take a step to improve your relationship with him, and you would accept whatever he offered you. But no amount of diamonds or rubies could erase what he had done, you knew that. And you knew that it wasn’t an offer- it was a trap. The King was a sadistic man who just wanted to prove to you time and time again that he was in charge of making you happy.

And you could either agree and play along, or…

“I still haven’t worn the emeralds you got me last time,” you sighed wistfully as you looked towards your room where the dresser was. “I was hoping to exhibit them at some occasion first.”

“Well, an occasion is near,” he smirked. “Our anniversary.”

“That is two months away, by the way.”

“But it should be celebrated with a blast, don’t you think?” He relaxed back and you could see that he was already planning. “Maybe we could have an emerald theme for you.”

You resisted the urge to scratch his face but you only smiled. “That doesn’t sound bad, actually.”

But your heart sank when he narrowed his eyes at you. “You don’t seem too pleased, though. What more do you want?”

“Oh, no, I am pleased,” you assured. “But we don’t have to plan it right now. You must be tired.”

“I am, actually,” the King shrugged. “Might sleep here tonight.”

You contained the sigh that threatened to leave you. “Let me prepare the bed then.”

Without waiting further, you got up and walked to your room- it was your room. The King had only slept here a handful of times, and he would always leave before dawn. He had made it pretty clear it was your room. But whenever he was tired, and you supposed he needed company, he would sleep with you. Sometimes, even though you hated it, he would make you laugh. Sometimes he would kiss your forehead. One time, he even kissed your lips as he apologised for all his past actions, promising to be a better man, but he never kept his word. He may be called ‘a man of his word’ by the public but he never kept his word to you. And at this point, you were too scared to say no to him. It was a good thing that he hated you and never really touched you. That was the only reason you were still intact.

So you pretended to be pleased when the King settled down next to you. You pretended to enjoy his stupid stories of unimportant things, knowing he just wanted someone to talk to. You added in a few stories of your own, nothing that would give too much away, just so he wouldn’t think it was him making all the effort. And when he fell asleep, you forced yourself to sleep next to him, eyes fixed on the tapestry in your room.

And the next day, you woke up to find him gone. Good riddance.

And that night, you almost thought it was the King again when you heard the creak of a door and you came out of your office only to find-

“San,” you breathed, a hand on your heart from the utter relief that it was not your husband. “A little warning next time, maybe.”

“I’m sorry-”

“No, it’s okay,” you shook your hand in dismissal, scanning him. “I didn’t see you with the King last night. Did you not go with him on that trip?”

“He told me I could have the night off as soon as we entered the castle,” San stepped closer, his eyes scanning everywhere on your body. “Are you okay? He didn’t do anything to you last night, did he?”

You stifled a smile at his worry. “He didn’t. He slept here last night. He was too tired to do anything, and I was careful.”

“Good,” San nodded. “Because I have news. Where do we…?”

You guided him to your office, telling him he could easily hide here if you two ever got interrupted because your office looked more like a storage than an actual office, with books and boxes everywhere. It was your comfort space, though. You resumed arranging the documents from the previous meeting while he spoke.

“Do you know what goes on in the family house?”

“I bet it’s not anything I’d like to know?” You looked at him and he nodded. “Well then, don’t tell me.”

“The… people, there,” San was careful to word it correctly. “Often bring news. They are more like his spies. And I’ve heard that Wonderland and Eden’s deal might not work- something about foreign interference. The King doesn’t know yet.”

“Ah,” you put the papers down. “He seemed quite pleased that it had worked. Not just him- the Earl I went to the day before.”

“Right,” San walked around the room, inspecting the bookshelves. “I saw it coming, but… I thought I’d let you know. The King will be angry when he learns about this.”

You realised then that San was also warning you long with all the planning. You pursed your lips. “Thanks for letting me know. Did you think about a plan?”

You seated yourself in front of him in the spare chairs as he folded his arms in thought. “It might be a little selfish, maybe sadistic…”

“All the better,” you confirmed and he scoffed, making you shrug in amusement. 

“I think if we have to bring the King down… we should target his strength, not his weaknesses. So you might have to change your approach.”

You raised a brow. “How so?”

“What is the King well known for? What is the King proud of?”

“A number of things, but… his dedication? His loyalty to the people?”

“Close,” San straightened before leaning forward and locking eyes with you. “Ever since he was just a prince, he was known to never go back on his word. He keeps his promises with his people. And just recently, he has promised the people that there won’t be another repetition of what happened two decades ago when Wonderland and Eden almost went to war. When countless people were killed while preparing for a war that never happened.”

“When Utopia intervened and stopped the war before it could happen,” you recalled and San nodded.

“The people of Eden have always been wary of Wonderland. The King promised that there will be peace. But how would the people feel if they learned that the King is joining hands with the Wonderland military to start annexing islands around their territories?”

You frowned. “I thought it was only Mist Island? And in that case, Mist Island was once Eden.”

San shook his head. “I wish it was only Mist Island. They’re targeting at least three islands other than Mist Island and they will attack all at once. The military of Eden and Wonderland will work together- and we all know how hungry for power Wonderland is. They won’t stop there- after Wonderland helps us take over every island in our territory, Wonderland will use the blueprints our King himself provided and take over our land- I suspect this, but the King refuses to see this right now because Wonderland has managed to bribe everyone in power, including him. They are not only providing military funds but their own military too. They’re going to attack from the inside when they begin their plan.”

You took a deep breath. “Are you sure about all of this? One hundred percent?”

“Yes,” San nodded. “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here because I don’t know who else to turn to. Everyone else is too blind to see it. And I’m not only joining you because I want to help you- you’re literally the only person who could stop this, Your Majesty. I would have come to you even if the King and you were on good terms.”

You considered that, feeling overwhelmed by his revelation. “What prompted you to take this step, San?” You asked, genuinely curious. “Because if the King learns about this, he would consider it a betrayal. And I’m not talking about our ‘revenge’.”

San took a deep breath. “When my father was the Right Hand, he was more like an advisor to the King, may he rest in peace. My father has long since retired but he has only given me one piece of advice that stuck with me- he said that sometimes, the people in power cannot see the sufferings of the common man when they make such big decisions. It is our duty to make them see it. And believe me, I have tried,” San laughed in defeat. “I told the King that it was a bad idea to join hands with Wonderland, even before your marriage. I respected him as a man, as a ruler, and when he didn’t take my advice, I accepted it. I thought maybe I was the only one who couldn’t see the big plan. But now that you’ve admitted that yourself even just with Mist Island… I think you can see it. You can feel the pain of the civilians. And that is the most respectable quality a ruler could possess.”

You looked down at your hands in your lap, fidgeting nervously. Even in your reign as a princess back in Utopia, no one had ever said such kind words about you. No one had ever acknowledged you, and it was as if San could really see who you were.

“And I… I once respected the King as a man. Not anymore. Not after I told him that the way he treated you was no way for a king to treat his queen and he threatened to fire me. I told him to go ahead but he let me go with a warning to not involve myself in his personal matters. But what kind of a man treats his wife like that? I just can’t respect him anymore. I refuse to be a part of his schemes.”

“That’s… impressive, Choi San,” you finally said and he raised his brows at the way you looked at him. “I always liked you but I didn’t know you had such respectable values. Your parents have raised you very well.”

“Your husband… his parents raised him quite well too. I don’t understand what happened to him. If they were alive… none of this would be happening. None of this.”

You nodded. If they were alive… you would have liked them. Your chest felt tight all of a sudden.

“You know,” you laughed sarcastically as you got up, turning your back towards the King’s Right Hand. “Sometimes I wondered if I was doing something wrong. I wondered if I was too over my head or thought too highly of myself. I thought I deserved this. And if you hadn’t told me the things you told me tonight… I would have continued to blame myself even after we got our revenge. So thank you, San. Thank you for acknowledging me and believing me when no one did. Thank you for caring for the people and worrying about this kingdom when no one else is. I will make sure everyone knows that they owe it to you, because I will expose the King. I will not let Eden fall. I am the Queen, and I will not let my people down.”

San’s heart ached at the way your voice almost cracked at the end, and then it swelled in pride because you, despite being treated that way by the King, cared about the people. As if the people had done anything for you. San got up and slowly walked to you, knowing you were holding back from the way your shoulders tensed and relaxed repeatedly. He wished you had someone by your side to comfort you at this moment, but you had no one. You were so alone here.

So he decided to be that for you- at least for tonight, for this moment. He put his hands on your shoulders softly, almost cursing himself when you flinched but relaxing with you as you subtly nodded to let him know that it was okay. 

“You…” San began, his voice barely a whisper. “You’re a very strong person. I’m sorry that Eden has only let you down even after all this time, and I’m thankful beyond words that despite all of that, you are choosing to stand up for us. I’m sorry that you have to go through whatever you are going through, but none of it, absolutely none of it is your fault, okay? A king is supposed to cherish his queen. A queen is supposed to be the only person the king bows to. The only person a king would take an arrow for. You may not be his queen, but you are my queen. You are my queen and the people’s queen. They look up to you. And they will protect you when the time comes. So don’t be too hard on yourself, Your Majesty. You owe us nothing, but we will never forget what you have and will do for us.”

You nodded and wiped your face. He squeezed your shoulders assuringly, letting his hands trace your arms before squeezing them too. “I am here for you, Your Majesty. I am here… y/n.”

You laughed a little at that, glad he couldn’t see you but you knew he was smiling too. “This is not a good time to call my name, San. I’m very vulnerable right now.”

San couldn’t help but feel curious. He knew he was treading on very dangerous lines, but…

“Y/n.”

You sighed deeply at that. His hands still on your upper arms caressing the bare skin did not help at all. 

“Would it be too much if I asked for a hug?” 

San instantly knew that you had never received a genuine hug since you arrived here from your voice alone. From the way your shoulders kept curling in. From the way your fists were so tight. Perhaps, not even the maids had helped you- he knew the King was sadistic enough to make sure of that. So San crossed the line, let his hands travel further down to unclench your fists and lined them. He heard your breath hitch when he raised your linked hands, when you realised what he was about to do. And then his heart sank in the most beautiful way when he wrapped your linked arms around your waist, when your back met his body and you melted into the hug, when he found your hearts beating in synchronisation. 

And he let you stand like that for the longest time, rocked you lightly in the hug until you had your fill. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. He did not know and he did not wish to find out. When you finally squeezed his hands, he let you go and was surprised to find how reluctant he was.

You couldn’t face him, though. You were afraid you would break down or do something worse. So you only said, “Thank you. Thank you for everything.”

“Anytime, Your Majesty.”

You frowned at his intentional switch to your title, and when you found him grinning, you thought it was the most beautiful thing you had seen in a while. He bowed and left, and you didn’t plan anything. You simply sat on your chair and thought about how he felt against you for the rest of the night.

—---------------------------

You and San were starting to fall into a little routine now. 

It looked like the deal with Wonderland was really happening. The King hadn’t told you anything more about that plan, but he became busier and you were careful to avoid him as much as you could- that man could not cope with stress and would only take it out on you if you so much as breathed in the wrong way. You would only interact once at the end of the day when he would come into your chamber to visit his office- much of which he had moved to his private chamber now- and you would ask him how his day was and if he needed anything. You were glad he was busy and didn’t have time to look at you. You didn’t want to be looked at anyway.

San, however, was updating you almost daily. Every night after the King would settle in his own room, after about an hour or two, San would knock on the door that opened to your room and you would let him in. You would both then spend the rest of the time in your office where you would match your information, plan out the next strategy and…

Talk. Simply talk like two normal human beings who didn’t bear such heavy titles.

You loved hearing San talk. His voice was soothing- even when you had only interacted with him formally, you had noticed how soothing his voice was whenever he talked to you, whenever he switched his tone with you. Around the King or when on duty, he was a different man, but perhaps, this was who San really was. Perhaps, this was what San sounded like- like morning dew on a clear day. Whenever San told you something about himself, you always listened carefully. You noted how his eyes would curve ever so slightly whenever he talked about his hometown, of his parents and siblings, of his friends who were scattered across the kingdom. 

Sometimes, between talking, he would suddenly become aware. He would pause and straighten and you would see the physical shift in his body as he reminded himself that he was the King’s Right Hand and shouldn’t be here in the middle of the night trading stories with you. But he couldn’t help it- he didn’t like how wary you would become whenever he started acting like his title. So he would urge himself to relax a bit, just so you could have some peace of mind. 

You hadn’t told San much about yourself, but he had learned a lot of things about you in the past two weeks. He learned that the King was manipulating you- he would behave well with you whenever he needed favours from you as the Princess of Utopia but as soon as he got the job done, he would go back to being the same. He learned how big a role you played as a Princess back in your kingdom and how involved you really were. He also realised that the King probably wanted to lessen your involvement before he could carry out the plan.

But these were the things he already somewhat knew. What he hadn’t realised was how strong you were and how brave you were. What he didn’t know was how you were still just someone yearning to be loved and treated right. When you asked him one day if he considered you a friend, San had been silent for a long time.

“I’ve never really had a true friend,” you laughed as you said. “You know how it is with us. People are always after something. They’re always using you and you learn to use them in return and call it a ‘friendship’. They don’t think twice before stabbing you in the back. So I wonder… even if we are somewhat using each other… would you say that we are friends?”

And when he only stared at you for a long time, you sighed. “I get it. You’re the King’s Right Hand. You can’t be friends with the Queen. I get it, really-”

“No, it’s not that, I…” San laughed nervously. “I just… I’m flustered, I’ll admit it. Seems like I’m still getting used to the fact that you are the queen and I’m only a mere servant, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, please,” you tossed the ball of yarn you had been playing with at him and he caught it with a laugh. “I’m not gonna pretend that I don’t know you call me ‘Your Majesty’ on purpose now.”

“It’s what I’m used to,” he pouted.

“Also… you’re not just a ‘mere servant’, San,” you insisted. “If I cared about titles, I wouldn’t have given you the power to control my fate. Because my fate is in your hands now. You could do anything with all the information you have now-”

“I would never-”

“I know,” you smirked. “Just letting you know that I’d rather be your friend than your enemy, ever.”

San had laughed at that, the first time he had ever truly laughed in front of you, and you wondered if that was the moment when he finally started loosening up, when he admitted that it was an honour that you would offer your friendship to him and you scolded him again. When he started treating you more casually, calling you by your title only teasingly. When he started worrying about you and making sure you were eating properly and staying out of the King’s way when he was sensitive. 

And when it felt like he was finally starting to treat you as an equal. Just a couple nights ago, you told him that over a chess game with him as you planned.

“Sometimes I wonder if this was all I needed,” you said. “Maybe I just needed someone who wouldn’t hold me in such high reverence or wouldn’t dismiss me as if I meant nothing. I hope you see me as an equal, San.”

“I do,” he admitted, but dropped your queen piece on the board and called checkmate, making you gape at him. “Which is why I’m not letting you win this game.”

You were just staring at the chessboard and recalling that fond memory when one of your maids knocked on the door. 

“The King requests your presence in the Great Hall,” she said. “Something about planning your anniversary party.”

“Isn’t it too soon for that?” You wondered, looking in the mirror to make sure you looked presentable. 

“I’ve heard some officials from Wonderland are visiting soon so the King is wondering if it would be too bad to kill two birds with one stone,” she said casually, shrugging. “Not a bad idea. We haven’t had a party in long.”

You shot her a dirty look but she only grinned before opening the door for you. 

The Great Hall was surprisingly full. You recognised the court people and a group of people around the King who you presumed were the event planners. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes- it looked like the King was doing pretty okay all by himself. What did he need you for-

“Your Majesty,” one of the court people who noticed you first got up, drawing everyone’s attention to you and the King patted the chair next to him- 

Between him and San.

Your heart sank and you greeted everyone before joining them at the end of the hall. San got up and bowed to you before drawing the seat for you and you thanked him.

“The guest of honour arrives!” The King announced and everyone raised their glasses. You smiled at them before turning towards your husband. 

“What is going on?”

“Oh, we’re just planning a party for you,” he leaned forward to speak in your ear. “The Prince of Wonderland arrives next week. I thought we could use our anniversary party as an excuse to welcome him as well.”

“Good idea, actually,” you said and shifted away subtly- you did not want him breathing down your neck. “In that case, the emerald theme sounds nice too. Emerald is Wonderland’s colour.”

“Oh, I totally forgot about that, thanks for reminding me,” he grinned, the man next to him calling him to look over something and you exhaled, running your eyes across the table to take everyone in. They all seemed to be talking about Wonderland, though.

“Your Majesty,” San called and you turned to him, surprised. “I just need your confirmation on a few things.”

“Go ahead,” you said and he called one of the event planners and you spent about half an hour running over everything with them. The King would join in between to tweak it a little, and finally…

“Sounds like we have a plan,” the King announced, pleased. “Shall we have dinner now?”

You excused yourself and went to join the women at the other end of the table where dinner was served. You tried not to look at San who was seated in front of you next to the King. Everyone congratulated you and the King for sticking with each other for a whole year and you felt disgusted at the King’s attempt to flatter you. As if he had ever acted like a husband. However, you made sure to smile at the right time and nod along. You had a throbbing headache by the time it was over. You dismissed the maids after they prepared your bath and soaked in it for a long time before dressing for bed.

But you couldn’t sleep. You felt such anger in you. You had never felt this angry before- not even when the King first showed his true colours. How dare that man use the excuse of your anniversary to pretend that the party was in your honour, that he was ‘lucky to have you as a wife’ as he said in the Great Hall just earlier? How dare he use the excuse of your anniversary party to welcome the Prince of Wonderland who had time and time again turned his back on Utopia, on your people?

You stood by the window staring holes into the fireplace and you almost didn’t hear the subtle knocks next to you. You uncovered the door and found San already peeking inside.

“I got worried for a second- I had been knocking for a minute now,” San entered and you drew the curtains on the window. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I was just zoning out,” you said, wincing when a sharp pain shot through your head again. San frowned at that.

“Are you feeling okay? You look pale.”

“Just a headache,” you assured him, but he wasn’t having any of it. 

“Do you have chamomile here? Let me make you some tea-”

“It’s okay-”

“Please, I insist,” he guided himself out and you almost smiled at how he naturally took charge. He went to the kitchen, found the drawer where you kept your tea and began to boil some water. You leaned next to the doorframe as he prepared the cups and he glanced at you, chuckling at the way you stood watching him.

“I quite like the sight of you in the kitchen. Maybe you could switch from Right Hand to personal maid.”

San snickered at that. “I bet you’d like that. Didn’t you have a headache just now? Go sit or something.”

You pouted at that and when he finished pouring the water into the cups, you decided to settle on the couch in your office. 

“So?” San asked after taking a few sips. “What brings the headache tonight?”

“As if you don’t know,” you glared at him from the corner of your eye. “I didn’t realise the King was this enthusiastic about hosting Wonderland here.”

“I didn’t either, trust me,” San admitted, putting his cup on the table. “Something must have changed while I was away.”

San was referring to the two-day leave he got to visit home. You nodded in agreement. “Do let me know when you catch up with your King.”

You didn’t mean to sound so bitter and San looked surprised as well. You drank another sip before placing the cup on the table and getting up, going towards the window and opening it. You needed air. You needed to take a few, deep breaths-

“What’s wrong?” San almost whispered, not too far from where you stood.

“Nothing, I just need some air,” you muttered.

“Please, y/n? You promised not to hide anything from me.”

“I don’t know, I’m just so angry, San,” you sighed deeply. “I really don’t like playing along with this. That man will pretend to be affectionate at the party but I know the Prince will do something to tick him off and he’ll come to take it all out on me. I don’t want to prepare or plan for a party that I know will not end up well.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “It’s getting harder for me to keep playing along, and I’m afraid I will snap and do something irreversible, and all that we have worked for will be in vain.”

“That won’t happen,” he said and it sounded like a promise even when you knew it wasn’t. “You’re doing so well. You won’t give in. I know how the Prince loves to mock you, but… try not to mock him back this time, will you? Even though I love how you always show him his place…”

You laughed at that and San joined. He placed a hand on your shoulder, turning you towards him. He scanned your face with a smile. “You’re so strong, and you’re holding up so well. You don’t even have to think of that event as an anniversary if that is what bothers you. It won’t be long after that we can finally put our plan to action.”

“That doesn’t bother me,” you told him. “I just… I wish, I-”

You couldn’t say it. You couldn’t admit it. Not now. But how could you hold back when he was looking at you like you were the most precious thing he had laid his eyes on? You sometimes hated the adoration in San’s eyes. How could you hold back when he held you like you were fragile? How could you not tell him that when you sat next to him today at the Great Hall… you wished he was the one who was yours? Not only by title, but truly, wholly yours?

You weren’t sure if San could read that in your eyes- he was pretty good at reading you. But when you tried to turn away from him, he grabbed your wrist gently, stopping you right there. He stepped closer to you.

“Look at me.”

You couldn’t.

“Look at me, y/n,” he said and you shook your head but he brought his hand to your face, glad that you didn’t flinch for once and tucked your hair behind your ear before cupping your face and making you lock eyes with him.

“It’s going to be over soon, I promise,” he said, caressing your hand that he was already holding. “And then you are free. I can’t imagine how tough it is for you to simply hang in there and wait, but-”

“But you make it better,” you whispered, your gaze falling to his locked lips. “You… I wish I… I wish that you-”

San let go of your hand to put a finger on your lips, surprising you and himself. “Don’t say it, y/n. Don’t say it.”

And then you knew. You knew that you weren’t wrong. You knew that perhaps, he felt a fraction of what you felt for him. And you could see how tense he was, how much he was holding back. He kept scanning your face, his gaze falling on your lips multiple times. He shook his head, attempting to draw himself out of the trance and he drew his finger away but you took that opportunity to bring your hand to his face-

Oh, how devastatingly beautiful he was. How much you loved his little gestures that you were sure no one but you noticed- the slightest frowns, the twitch of his lips, the clenching of his jaw. You caressed his face and he looked helpless. 

“Why?” You finally asked.

He didn’t respond. His hand snaked behind your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek and then he leaned forward just the tiniest bit. You responded by doing the same and you both found yourselves leaning into each other- by this point, his breath caressed your lips-

And before you could take another step, you heard the main door unlocking and your eyes went wide with fear. San instantly stepped away from you and you looked at the escape door, praying that one made less noise before you calmed your breathing, picked the extra cup and placed it on the shelf, and appeared out of your office-

“Oh. I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

“And you’re up late,” the King scanned you. “What were you doing?”

“I just woke up with a headache so I made some tea for myself and was going through some stuff in the office. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, just needed to get something from my office-”

“At this hour?” You made the mistake of asking and he paused to glare at you.

“And? What about it?”

“Nothing,” you raised your hands in surrender. “I’ll give you space.”

You started towards your room but he grabbed your wrist and you couldn’t help but compare it to a certain someone- your husband’s grip was always a bit too strong. You turned to face him and your heart sank when he looked angry.

“Look, I’m not in the mood to fight tonight, but I have to warn you,” he began, his grip tightening again making you wince. “Do not mess with any plans. Do not challenge the Prince of Wonderland when he comes. It won’t end well for us if you do.”

“Okay, I won’t,” you said, trying to extract your hand back but he pulled you towards him, pointing a finger in your face for good measure before letting you go. 

You knew then- you wouldn’t try anything but you wouldn’t let the Prince disrespect you or your kingdom, no matter the consequences.

—--------------------------

“The gloves, the gloves!” Your maid called and another maid brought a box from the bed, the group of them squealing at how pretty the emerald net gloves were and you shut your eyes, annoyed, but you couldn’t help laughing along with them.

“You lot can have them if you like them so much.”

“Oh no, we wouldn’t,” the youngest of the three said. “But… maybe after the party, Your Majesty?”

You pretended to think and then nodded and they jumped up and down. You gaped at them. “Who assigned you little birds to help me get ready tonight?”

“We’re in training and we’re the best in the class,” the one who seemed to be the oldest said. “The Head Maid expects good results and we shall deliver.”

“We’ve always wanted to get you ready, and what better day than your anniversary party?”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to the mirror. Your anniversary party. What mockery. You checked your curls one last time- the girls had done a pretty good job, actually. Your hair fell in elegant curls by the sides, half pinned up. They kept the makeup quite natural and you liked that. The dress- a ‘gift’ from the King, but really, you knew that he had probably asked one of his designers to do something about it. The dress was beautiful. It was sleek and fell to your feet with a slit in the leg. Everything about you tonight screamed elegant.

You wished you felt as good as you looked.

You wore the gloves, completing the look and admired yourself in the mirror. The sleeves also hung along with the dress though there was a slit for your hands so they wouldn’t get in the way. You had matching heels as well.

“So pretty,” one of them wiped a tear. “Shall we go now?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. You reminded yourself to stay low but keep your back straight. You had nothing to be afraid of.

You started hearing the music as soon as you left your chamber. There were decorations everywhere in black and emerald colours. You subconsciously touched the emerald earrings you were wearing- even though you wanted to throw these beauties away, you had to wear them and flaunt them at the event tonight. You had to let everyone know that your ‘loving’ husband got them as a gift for you. 

Tonight was truly going to be all about your patience, and you could not snap.

You entered the ballroom as the maids announced your arrival and joined the King who was waiting for you next to the Prince of Wonderland in a corner. You bowed to the Prince who bowed back.

“I must congratulate you on your anniversary, first,” he began. “Time flies. My wife has sent some gifts for you.”

“Please send her my regards,” you smiled. “I hope she can make it here next time.”

The Prince laughed at that and the King pressed a kiss to your temple. “I’m going to announce your arrival now.”

You nodded and the King signalled the musicians to stop. As hundreds of eyes trained on you, you stood tall, the King’s hand resting on your back a reminder. He took a deep breath.

“Thank you all for making it tonight. Please join me in warmly welcoming the arrival of the star of tonight’s event- esteemed ruler and wife, the Queen!”

Everyone applauded and you bowed once to them with a smile. Next, the King nodded and said, “I must also welcome the guest of honour- the Prince of Wonderland. I hope you make him feel at home during his stay.”

The Prince bowed and applause filled the room again. The King cued the musicians and everyone went back to what they were doing.

“You can go socialise and join us for dinner, okay?” The King said and you nodded, spotting San in the crowd who was making his way to you-

Looking absolutely breathtaking in a black suit with his hair slicked back, tendrils falling onto his forehead.

“Your Majesty,” he bowed and you acknowledged him, both of you scanning each other for a good moment. “Do you want me to get you anything?”

“I was just leaving,” you told him, glancing towards the King who seemed to be listening in to your conversation. San nodded and passed you to go to the King and whisper something in his ear. You stood inhaling the woody scent of whatever cologne he was wearing before urging yourself to move. 

Dinner time approached rather quickly- there were too many people stopping by to chat with you- officials and royals from around the continent- and you didn’t have one moment to breathe. You were relieved when they announced that everyone should move to the Great Hall for dinner. You joined the King who seemed to be too involved in his discussion with the Prince to offer you an arm an accompany you-

“Shall I escort you?” San offered and you stifled a smile, noticing the hint of mischievousness in his eyes.

“Why not?” You put a hand on his outstretched arm. The King spared a glance and nodded and you finally relaxed- it wasn’t unusual for San to accompany you at such times. However…

This time it was different.

Everything had been different from a few nights ago when you both almost… you didn’t dare to think of it. After the King interrupted that moment, you were both relieved and disappointed. Relieved because you were the King’s wife, the Queen and you shouldn’t have tried anything like that. 

And disappointed because you wished you had gotten a taste of his lips.

“Tired?” San asked in a low voice, making you blink. 

“A little,” you admitted. “Everything okay at your side?”

“Yep,” he replied and you nodded, walking in silence the rest of the way until you reached the hall. You sat on one side of the King, the Prince on the other side in front of you. Dinner was served and you chatted with the female envoy from Wonderland at your left.

“I must say, you look quite breathtaking, Your Majesty,” the Prince called, winking at the King. “Looks like your husband is taking care of you.”

You stilled for the slightest moment. You weren’t sure if the Prince’s comment was intentional. You looked at the King and made yourself relax. “Definitely.”

“And you look lovely in Wonderland’s colour,” he commented further, stuffing his mouth with food as he scanned you.

“Ah, the emerald was my idea. These,” you pointed at your earrings, “were a gift from my husband. I decided the occasion called for it.”

“She loves her emeralds,” the King chuckled. “Don’t seem too flattered, though, Prince. All this emerald decor is to match with my wife, not to welcome you.”

“I wouldn’t dare assume,” the Prince laughed and you grimaced at how chummy the two were. “Though, now that we’re talking about it, with how good our dealings have been going recently, you could have easily fooled me into believing that tonight was all about me.”

“Ah,” the King shifted in his seat. “The emeralds are older than the deal though.”

The three of you chuckled at that- you knew they weren’t. You recalled what the King had said about sucking it up to the Prince and you decided now was the right moment. “Maybe the emeralds were intentional- my husband has been very eager with the deal.”

The King nodded in approval and the Prince said, “Well, I’m quite fond of how things have turned out too. But I did have a thought that you might entertain, Your Majesty, if I may?”

You frowned in confusion, glancing at your husband who looked as confused. “Sure, by all means.”

“Would it be too bad if Utopia sided with us on this one?” The Prince wiped his face. “It wouldn’t be too bad to have a third nation with us- of course, Wonderland will offer something in return.”

“I… I’ll put a word for you but I’m not the Queen of Utopia, I’m only the Princess,” you told him, faking a smile. “It might be a bit tough given how things turned out the last time.”

“Technical difficulties, I believe,” the Prince coughed- he was all too familiar with how Wonderland had turned its back on Utopia. “Things have changed now, haven’t they?”

“I couldn’t be the judge of that,” you sipped your wine and when the King sent a warning glare in your direction, you cleared your throat. “But I will send word.”

“Fair enough,” the Prince scoffed at that and you knew from the shift in the air that your words had pulled some string that shouldn’t have been pulled. Maybe the King had gone ahead and promised Utopia’s cooperation on his own.

You found that out soon enough.

After dinner and a speech from the King, the party concluded and you farewelled the guests before you accompanied the King back to your chambers. The Prince parted ways for the night and you found yourself alone with your husband, a deadly silence as you walked arm in arm to your rooms with guards behind you. The King motioned the guards to stop a good distance behind-

And you knew tonight wasn’t going to end well.

As soon as you entered the chamber and the King looked around, he started invading your space until you were cornered. 

“Did you have to sound like such a Utopian?”

You shut your eyes, not believing what you were hearing. “Don’t tell me you promised things to him without my knowledge.”

“And what if I did?” He challenged. “Your job is to convince back home that when the time comes, they will supply us with the funds for the army.”

“If you believe I have a say in that?” You scoffed. “You’re wrong-”

You weren’t sure if the sound of his palm meeting your cheek registered first or the pain but you staggered, almost landing on the floor. You shut your eyes in disbelief at how quickly your husband snapped and then you were further humbled when he knelt down and grabbed you by the jaw, glaring at you.

“If only you didn’t run that mouth of yours so much,” he spat. “I wouldn’t have to resort to this-”

“You would have anyway,” you challenged. “You’re a sorry excuse of a man.”

You watched the King’s mouth part in surprise- this was the first time you had verbally retaliated. He got up with a scoff, pacing the room for a few seconds while you gathered yourself, about to go to your room and maybe shut the door on his face-

“You know,” the King blocked your path, stepping in front of you. “I wonder why there’s this fire in your eyes. Have you been doing something behind my back?”

“Have you considered…” you took a deep breath, trying not to raise your voice, “for one moment that maybe, just maybe I am done being treated like a ragdoll?”

“A ragdoll?” The King laughed mockingly, poking his fingers against your sternum, pushing you in the process. “What did you say? Did you ever consider, Your Majesty,” he pushed again, making you stifle a groan. “That you have been misbehaving?”

“And what did I do?” You almost whispered. “I stated facts. Utopia won’t play along with your stupid plans. I saved you the trouble, Your Highness-”

This time, he pushed you properly, slamming you against the wall in the process. “Utopia will bend. I will make sure of it. But first, I have to make you bend to my will.”

You knew that nothing you said now would get through him. His eyes went blank as he pushed you to the ground and kicked at your legs, walking around the room while you clutched at your leg- he was always cruel enough to give you time to recover before he carried on. He picked some box from the mantel and threw it in your direction, the metal meeting the flesh on your arm and you were glad it was only the arm because it hurt like hell. And then you were being picked up and he assessed you once, slowly, before pushing you harshly, making you knock against the shelf and shatter a vase in the process, the shard of which buried in your forearm painfully-

And you stopped breathing when you spotted a shadow move in your room.

It was San, and he looked angry. 

And he was clutching a dagger in his fist.

You couldn’t feel the pain anymore- instead, fear overtook you- you made sure not to look at him again but you shook your head furiously, willing him, begging him to stay in the dark but somehow, you knew he couldn’t stand the sight of it and would interrupt-

So you did the only thing you could think of. You clutched a shard in your hand and when the King stood to strike you again, you met it with the shard which lodged in his fist.

“That is enough, Your Highness, please,” you begged. “Come to your senses-”

“You bitch,” he groaned, clutching at his wrist and it looked like the pain finally made him acknowledge the mess he had created. He stood conflicted, raising his hands to strike you again but then clutching his bleeding wrist.

“Please, go away and get it treated,” you begged. “Say that you fell or something, that it was dark, just please, go away,” you cried and the King shot you a warning look before cursing more under his breath and promising he would have a talk with you soon. Then he turned and left the chamber.

And you found yourself finally relaxing enough to sink to the floor and sob because you had almost ruined everything you had worked for. You had almost ruined your plan. You had risked San’s life in the process. You had made everything worse-

But you fought back this time. Maybe, just maybe… the King would come to his senses or at least this madness would stop.

You wiped your face, taking off your net gloves and letting out a short laugh when you saw they had ripped- your maids would be pissed. You tossed them away and slumped against the wall, the shards still around you.

And then you spotted the shadow move again- but he didn’t dare take one step towards you.

“It’s okay to come out now, you know.”

San sighed deeply- he wished he could disappear in the shadows. He didn’t realise how angry, absolutely furious he could be until this moment. He could have slit the King’s throat right there- not only because he was the King and you were the Queen, but… no woman deserved to be treated like that, to be shoved like she weighed nothing. He stood clenching his fists, wondering if he should have done it, if he could have protected you-

“I might start to think I’m hallucinating if you don’t step out now,” he heard you call and he looked up, watching you pick the shard out of your arm and whistling at the pain.

And that finally prompted him to move and step into the dim light of the main room. He went towards where you kept your medical kit and then he settled down next to you, not meeting your eyes but putting pressure on your wound with a handkerchief and then inspecting it a few moments later, relieved it only needed a bandage. You watched him expertly tie a bandage around your arm and then he rolled your sleeves up to inspect for more damage-

“Why won’t you look at me?” You whispered.

He sighed deeply, gulping as he gathered his courage and tried subduing his anger, but one look at your tear-stained face and messy hair and the absolutely vulnerable eyes, and something in him broke again.

“What kind of a man am I if I can’t protect you?”

“San-”

“I know why you stopped me. I know I promised not to interfere and I know I almost killed that bastard, but y/n,” his brows furrowed as he brought his hand to your face, cupping it and then almost losing it when you shut your eyes and leaned into his touch. “I failed you.”

“No, you didn’t,” you locked your gaze with his. “You saved me tonight. I have never fought back once, but tonight… you saved me, San.”

San wasn’t sure how many times you were going to break his heart and then piece it together tonight. And despite walking on eggshells around you for the past few days ever since he almost crossed the boundary with you, he decided he would heal himself tonight. 

He decided to finish what you couldn’t last time, and he leaned in to lock his lips with yours.

A million thoughts ran through his head- but being the King’s Right Hand and kissing his wife, the Queen, was the least of his worries right now. He didn’t care if he would get executed for this, but… what if you only thought of him as a servant? What if the last time had only been in the spur of the moment-

He broke apart when he felt his thumb getting wet from your tears and he truly wondered if he had made a mistake, but…

You were smiling. You leaned forward, on your knees, and met his lips again and this time, he kissed you properly, his lips moving with yours and his hands holding you carefully, aware that you must be in pain and hurting-

But that wasn’t enough for you. You broke apart again, a newfound strength in you. Your breath hitched as you took in his features now that you were so close to him. You held his face in your hands, crawling in his lap and towering over him, joining your foreheads.

“Don’t hold me like I’ll break,” you warned him. “I want you to kiss me harder. Kiss me like you mean it.”

And that was all the confirmation San needed- his grip on your waist tightened considerably and he kissed you like he was hungry for it. And he didn’t bother staying silent- he groaned into the kiss loud enough to drive you a little insane and you responded with equal enthusiasm, melting into the kiss with each passing second. You locked your arms around his neck and as soon as he swiped his tongue across your lips, you opened your mouth and granted him access, your kisses turning more passionate. Soon, he had you bending and placed you on the floor gently, hovering above you and breaking apart to look at you, a faint smile on his lips.

“We shouldn’t be doing this… Your Majesty,” he whispered, kissing your temple and trailing his lips down your cheek.

“We really shouldn’t,” you pouted, unbuttoning his coat so he could take it off and he tossed it to the side. “But do I really look like I care right now?”

He chuckled, going back to kissing your jaw, trailing his lips down on your neck. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

“Not longer than me,” you assured, squirming under him when his lips tickled your sweet spot. “You were somehow always the only person I wanted to be touched by.”

San groaned at that, looking at you. “If you say things like that, y/n, god help me-”

You leaned up to capture his lips in a kiss, effectively shutting him up, your fingers working to unbutton his shirt as you messily kissed, one hand guiding your face along while the other traced your curves. You wanted nothing more than to be skin on skin and perhaps he felt that- perhaps, he knew how much you craved this, longed for this. His shirt fell open and you admired the plane of his toned chest and body, running your hands across it. San caressed your face lovingly, kissing your forehead and lingering there.

“Stop thinking whatever you are,” you muttered, leaning forward. “Just do something.”

San looked at you as if asking for confirmation- he couldn’t quite believe this was really happening. His gaze fell to the bandage on your arm and he locked your hands, kissing your wrist. He rolled the sleeve up, wincing at the red bruise from the box the King had thrown at you.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not really,” you told him. It was the truth- it didn’t hurt right now. You couldn’t feel any sort of pain right now, actually, save for the ache in your heart. You could only feel desire coursing through every vein in your body. San trailed kisses up your arm, looking at you for permission as his hand snaked up your back and you gladly gave him access to slide your dress down and he took his sweet time, taking in every inch of your skin, every piece of yourself you had to offer to him. The dress pooled around your hips, leaving you in a black bralette. San kissed your lips enthusiastically before trailing kisses down again, this time aiming to kiss every bruise and faint mark on your body. 

You lay on your back, your hands running through his hair, your heart overwhelmed at how he still held and touched you like you could break. You wanted to tell him that you had already broken and he was healing you. You loved the feather kisses he dropped on your skin and you appreciated that he was taking his time with you. After he was done, he kissed you for a long time, simply moving his lips along yours. The exhaustion was starting to catch up now.

“Can we take this to bed?” You asked and he chuckled at that, nodding and helping you up but you almost stumbled due to the sudden blood rush. He caught you in his arms, helping you to your room. You took off your dress, now in your undergarments and he looked up. You smacked his arm before changing into your nightgown and then tapped his arm so he could relax and found him flustered.

“For someone who kissed like it was the last time, you sure are shy now,” you commented, going to the dresser and beginning to take all the clips out of your hair. San came to stand behind you, helping you and then playing with the curls in your hair. He caught you looking at him and he smiled sadly.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”

“For what?” You turned to him and he tucked your hair back. 

“For everything,” he sighed. “That is the last time that man touches you, okay? I won’t let it happen again. I swear on my life-”

“San-”

“No,” he shook his head, adamant. “I don’t care about anything- I won’t let him touch a hair on your body.”

You pursed your lips, feeling overwhelmed and he was quick to embrace you. You wrapped your arms around his back, letting him caress your hair and guide you both to the bed. Settling down, he drew the covers over the two of you after shrugging off his shirt.

“I’ll leave before the sun rises, is that okay?” He asked.

“I’d rather have you like this forever,” you buried your face in his chest, tangling your limbs together and his body shook as he laughed.

“Of course you would,” he tsk-ed. “Do you like me that much?”

“I do,” you weren’t going to lie. “What about it?”

He kissed the top of your head. “Well… the sentiments are returned.”

“Glad to hear,” you snuggled into him. “Kiss me to sleep.”

—--------------------------------

The night of the party had gone incredibly wrong- you physically injured the King. It had been three days and he hadn’t seen you since-

Which wasn’t too bad. You figured the King must have been ashamed for once because you finally fought back and made it clear that he had no control over you. You recalled over and over again what he had said that night-

“Utopia will bend. I will make sure of it. But first, I have to make you bend to my will.”

You had a solid plan in your head now- you were going to make sure the King’s plans would be exposed and go after the Prince of Wonderland first by contacting your spies. It was going to work. You didn’t know what you were going to do after that, but for now… you had to do something.

Because now, you had hope. You knew that having hope was dangerous especially at a time like this. You did not know how the future would play out from here, but you couldn’t help feeling like a silly little girl with hope as you drew the curtains away from the window and smiled at the bright sun.

And it didn’t help that San was making sure he treated you like the way you were meant to be. 

You weren’t afraid to lock the main door of your chamber anymore after night time. After what the King had done to you, you could use the excuse of being scared of him (you genuinely were) in case he ever came here without notice. The King wasn’t visiting your chamber anymore, instead sending maids to do what needed to be done.

Good riddance, you thought. He should be ashamed.

And then at night time when you sent the maids away, you would lock the doors and wait for San. And no matter how late it got, San always came. He would knock on the door in your room and you would be quick to open it. He would embrace you as soon as he saw you. Sometimes you would talk first, or sometimes, you would get right into it and kiss each other. With each passing day and the anxiety that came with carrying this plan that could very well end up with you both being tried in court for treason, you two found comfort in each other. Your wishes to not be apart for one moment during the night grew more intense.

You would sit in his arms on the bed or on the couch in the living room as you talked. You would tell each other how your day went and other casual stuff. It was just you and San without the titles. He would caress your hair as you talked. You would play with his fingers or trace patterns on his arms as he held you. One of you would give in first and kiss the other. Sometimes, it was soft and continued for hours- just kissing and chatting, laughing as you talked in hushed voices as if afraid they could be carried out by the air. 

But sometimes… It felt like San intended to break you apart. Sometimes his hands would consciously or unconsciously touch some bare skin on your legs as you cuddled which earned him a short gasp. Sometimes, he would let it go and wait for you, but sometimes, he would test the waters and trace his fingers up, up and up. Maybe you would slap his arm and giggle. More often than not, though, you would bare more skin for him. You wanted to be touched everywhere, and you had made it clear.

And he hadn’t disappointed.

You had a long day today and were just finishing responding to the last letter when you heard the familiar knocks on the escape door. You smiled to yourself, sealing the letter within an envelope and going into your room to open the door.

“You’re early tonight,” you said as a greeting and San kissed your forehead as he stepped inside.

“His Highness is in a sour mood today so he went out for drinks with the Earl,” he told you and you shrugged.

“Wonder what’s got him so sour lately,” you started towards the living room.

“Maybe the wound on his hand refuses to heal,” San chuckled. “You have no idea how hard it is to hold back a smirk everytime I see him wince in pain.”

“Satisfying, isn’t it?” You grinned and you both sat next to each other in the living room. “Did you receive a response yet?”

You were referring to the letter you had sent to who you expected was the only person in the Prince of Wonderland’s court with some sense of what was right and wrong. The only person who wasn’t power hungry- a past advisor of your father as well. 

“I did,” San took out a letter from the folds of his dark kimono and you opened it, reading the contents and smiling in satisfaction.

“I knew the court of the Prince didn’t align with his views, but I didn’t realise they would be this eager to do something about it,” you looked at San. “I always knew Lord Jeong hated his job as a court member in Wonderland. This is… interesting.”

San sighed in relief. “I’m surprised he agreed, actually. I know he’s wiser than the rest of the members who seem to have nothing up here,” San tapped his head, “but I didn’t think he would agree so easily. If he gets caught, he will be executed.”

“And so will we,” you looked at San pointedly. “Lord Jeong must have realised that we’re risking a lot too. Some people… they are inherently good, San. Like you. Like Lord Jeong. They always side with justice, and there’s nothing just about what Wonderland and Eden are planning to do with the annexations.”

San nodded slowly at that. “Sometimes, I wonder what went wrong with the King. I thought he was a very respectable leader. I don’t understand when and why his hunger to grab more and more began.”

He had talked about it once with you. You shifted towards him, caressing his arm. “Were you ever… on friendly terms?”

“Not really, he’s always kept a distance from the court members, and I wouldn’t call what we had ‘friendship’,” he said, “But he still shares almost everything he plans with me. Yes, I’m his Right Hand, but he almost expects me to play along. Maybe he is testing me and will find out I’m doing something behind his back. Maybe he won’t because nothing has changed between us, really. I’m trying to act normal when I’m with him but everytime I see him with a smug face as he and the other court members disrespect the women in court or their wives… I want to scratch that smugness off his face.”

You chuckled at that. “You’re just too good for this world, San. And honestly it’s a goddamned miracle that I found you.”

San looked surprised to hear that and you laughed again. “What?”

“You talk as if you weren’t going to expose, maybe even overthrow the King all by yourself,” San leaned forward to peck your lips. “I don’t think my presence has changed much.”

“You have no idea how much your presence has changed things,” you wished he could look at himself from your eyes. “I’m pretty sure I would have done something horrible to the King- or myself- if I didn’t know you had my back.” 

San pursed his lips in thought as he watched you shuffle closer so you could hide your face in the crook of his neck. You breathed in his scent, memorising it before you drew away to look at him.

“Will you stick with me after all of this? No matter where I end up? You don’t have to say yes-”

“Of course I will,” San cupped your face in his hands, his heart aching at the way you sounded so small while asking that question. “There’s no place I’d rather be than with you. I intend to follow you wherever you go… if I have your permission.”

You took his hands away from your face, making his heart sink in fear, only for you to curl your fingers around them as you leaned forward settling yourself in his lap, his hands pinned to the couch and your lips inches away from his. You scanned his face, feeling some strange satisfaction to see his eyes wide and lips parted in surprise.

“Wherever I go?” You whispered, leaning in so your lips caressed his and then drawing away. “Don’t tell me you want me, Lord Choi.”

San scoffed- scoffed at that. “Didn’t I tell you? You’ll always be my queen.”

You recalled when San had told you that- the first time before he hugged you. You tightened your grip on his hands and locked your lips with his, his response eager. Your legs were on either side of him and you propped yourself a bit closer as you kissed him and he sighed when you rolled your hips on his lap experimentally.

“You do know what you’re doing, don’t you, Your Majesty?” San whispered as he broke apart, immediately trailing kisses down your neck- he had held on for too long. The nightgown you wore tonight didn’t cover much.

“Oh, this?” You rolled your hips again, feeling the telltale signs of a bulge even through layers of clothes. “I think I do, Lord Choi.”

“And you do know,” San sucked at your sweet spot, careful not to leave a mark on your neck and moving his lips elsewhere immediately. “You do know that I find it very hard to hold myself back when it comes to you, don’t you?”

“Who said I want you to hold back?” You drew your hands away, placing them on his shoulders now. “Maybe I don’t want you to hold back tonight.”

San stopped trailing kisses on your skin and looked up at you- oh, he wanted nothing more than to have you in every possible way, but you were the queen. He already thought he was crossing a lot of boundaries and sometimes found himself thinking if maybe you’d regret this someday-

“Do you want me, San?” You asked. “Please, be honest. Do you want me?”

“I thought you knew,” San’s brows furrowed in concentration as he scanned your face for any hints of hesitation. “I thought it was obvious how much I wanted you. But are you sure you won’t regret any of this-”

“I won’t,” you assured him, cupping his face. “I would be honoured to have you, Choi San.”

San laughed in shock and disbelief. “I should be the one saying that- you’re literally the queen of two kingdoms-”

“And who cares about that?” You interrupted, tucking his hair away from his face as you said, “I’m lucky to be here right now, with you. I feel like you deserve someone better, not a woman who’s already married and is a sorry excuse of a-”

“A contract marriage,” San’s grip on your waist tightened. “And even if everything else was okay, I’m lucky to be the man who makes you happy. And I’m sorry the King never did that for you.”

“I told you to stop apologising for the King,” you pouted. 

“Only when you stop thinking of yourself as unworthy,” San wasn’t having any of your excuses. “You’re worthy of love, and if I can make you happy… then I don’t need anything else. So I’ll ask again… do you want me? Despite everything? Despite what the future may hold?”

“I do,” you said, never so sure about anything until now. “I’ve wanted you for so, so long.”

San’s lip curved into a smirk at that. “Now… that’s new.”

“Really?” You rolled your hips for good measure again and this time, San’s hands started trailing down your legs. “I thought it was obvious.”

“I thought that was just how you were,” San leaned in to kiss your jaw. “I just didn’t think you only looked at me that way.”

“Pretty sure you never saw me looking at the King that way,” you muttered and he laughed, tracing patterns on your skin as he started baring your thighs. 

“Ah? And did you fantasise about being touched by me? Before everything?”

“Maybe I did,” you kissed his lips. “You’re kind of hot. It’s hard not to, especially when no one around you cares enough.”

“And do you fantasise about every other ‘hot’ person in your court?” San tsk-ed at that. “Did you have someone like this back home too?”

You laughed deeply at that, amused by the way San was leading the conversation, but you intended to make him sure by the end of the night that he was the only one for you. “Never. Never in my wildest dreams. And I’m not that dirty, Choi San. I didn’t fantasise about this- oh.”

Your words became lost when San trailed his hands up your thighs, spreading you more for him and then bringing his hands back down. He was teasing you. He always did before he touched you.

“So what exactly went on in your head when you saw me?” San had a shit-eating grin on his face and you were tempted to wipe it off with a kiss. 

“Oh, just how you seemed like a nice person,” you shrugged, grinning when he shook his head. “Come on, you know. If you hadn’t thought about me a little too, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

“I just thought you made a nice queen,” San shrugged just like you, tracing his hands back up. “Never did I think I would have the privilege to touch you.”

And then he traced a finger up your panties, finding them hot and wet, earning a gasp from you. “Already? I thought you-”

You didn’t let him finish as you smashed your lips against his and he immediately melted into the kiss, one hand trailing back to your waist while the other played around your thigh, more focused on making out with you. While your tongues battled for dominance, he took the chance and hooked his thumb in the waistband of your panties, bringing it down a bit. You weren’t even breaking apart for air, the kisses getting more passionate and when he finally slid one finger between the garment and over your wet folds, you gasped into the kiss.

“So wet for me,” he tsk-ed again. “Always so ready for me.”

“Shut up,” you told him, making him chuckle. You found it harder to keep yourself propped on his lap without sinking back and San seemed to understand, perhaps with the way your thighs trembled with every movement of his finger between your wet folds. He had done this once now, so he knew how submissive you were at times like this. He just liked the idea of making you wait until you were antsy enough before he finally slid his fingers inside you.

And right now… he needed to rile you up just a tad bit more. So foregoing any rationality, he muttered ‘you better be good at makeup’ before going right back to your neck and attacking it with kisses and nibbles and letting his fingers trace your clit, making you squirm within his grasp with the overload of sensations. Your hands gripped at his shoulders, working your hips along to his movements and when he finally dipped one finger inside of you, you sighed in relief, immediately riding his finger-

“Not so quick, Your Majesty,” he warned. You could swear his calling you with your title undid something in you- especially when in a position like this. You let him take control and he slid another finger inside you, his thumb on your clit drawing circles and relaxing you as he slowly paced his digits inside your walls. 

“That feel good?” He asked and you nodded, barely able to speak. You looked at him before sliding his kimono down his shoulders and then you ran your hands over his chest, gripping his shoulders before rolling your hips on his fingers.

“San, please,” you muttered against his lips, locking them with yours as if you could convince him to make you come with a kiss alone.

San broke apart, his eyes focused on your lips as his fingers changed their pace inside you and his thumb started rubbing your clit with more pressure. “Please what?”

“I’m so close,” you almost begged, your whines only fueling him. “You know what to do.”

He did. He pressed his thumb against your clit and curled his fingers inside you and you buried your face and your moans against his neck as you trembled all over, your hips bucking against his fingers.

But this time, San immediately pushed you back so you lay flat on the couch and instead of reaching for something to wipe you with, he looked at you.

“Can I clean you up, Your Majesty?”

“Oh, goodness, yes,” you sighed delightfully and he grinned, sliding your panties off you and immediately latching his lips to your core, the sensation alone making your back arch. San gripped your thighs though, effectively pinning you down and spreading you apart so he could have full access. And he wasn’t silent at all. The lewd sound of his tongue diving in and out of you, slurping in everything was driving you to yet another high. 

You ached to squeeze your thighs shut but his restraint was sure so you clenched at his hair, only making him go harder on you. His nose brushing against your already sensitive clit made you moan loudly into the pillow and you couldn’t even form two sentences to beg him to do something, anything. One look at his glistening lips and nose as he glanced at you and you were already almost there. All it took was him licking up a stripe and then sucking at your clit and you were shaking uncontrollably again as another wave of orgasm hit you, the most intense thing you had ever experienced. 

San eagerly helped you through it and when he wiped his face with his sleeves, you felt a fresh wave of arousal as he looked at you, his kimono hanging by his hips, his eyes hungry. And you may have asked him to let you please him too but he was already leaning in to kiss you and this time, he drove his tongue inside you on purpose, making you taste yourself on him.

“God, you’re amazing,” he breathed against your lips. 

“Shall we take this to bed?” You whispered and he nodded, about to get up but you pulled his hand. 

“Please take that thing off first,” you laughed, pointing at his clothes.

“Oh? What do you intend to do to me?” He smirked.

“I told you that I want you,” you said and his eyes darkened. He licked his lips in contemplation before he picked you up and you realised then how spent you were, yet so eager to have him where you wanted him the most.

He lay you down on the bed and took off his clothes, now in his sole piece of undergarment, leaving nothing to imagination. You stared shamelessly while catching your breath and he scoffed. “Can I take that off too?” 

“Oh?” You looked down at your nightgown. “By all means.”

You watched San draw closer to you, the glow of the candles by your bedside casting beautiful shadows on his face. He started unbuttoning your gown and you helped him to take it off. And just like always, San sucked in a breath at the sight of you as if this was his first time seeing you bare yourself to him- this time was different. You had never been this bare in front of him. He traced his hands along your curves, taking his time as he peppered kisses at random spots. All the while, your hands remained in his hair, caressing his head softly and you beckoned him to come closer so you could kiss him. 

As you moved your lips against his softly, his hand came to rest on your waist, the other guiding you along. You started shifting so he lay on his side and he brought you closer, making you rest one leg on top of him and you didn’t know if it was intentional but when your core met his bulge, now separated by only a single layer, you moaned into the kiss as you deepened it.

You let your hand travel down, making him grin into the kiss. You traced his toned muscles until you reached his abdomen. As he kissed you with more intensity, you palmed his length, finding him rock hard. You broke apart and looked at him for permission and when he subtly nodded, you looked down between your bodies and began to slide your hand under his clothes-

“Wait,” he breathed, taking off his underwear in a single motion, his hard length springing up in full glory, swollen and leaking. You licked your lips at the sight, watching him prop himself against the bed and bringing you on top of him, wedging his length between your folds so you could rock against him as he captured your lips once again. This time, you opened your mouth and his tongue dove right in, exploring your mouth while he rocked you against his length. You gasped when the head of his cock rubbed against your entrance and you simply couldn’t take it any longer.

“San,” you breathed, drawing his hair away from his flushed face. “Please.”

“Are you sure it’s safe?” He asked, wanting nothing more than to drive his cock inside you and wreck you.

“I… I’ve been taking contraceptives in case the King tried anything,” you admitted. His features contorted in anger and you shushed him, peppering kisses all over his face. “I want you to be the first.”

“The first?” He asked and you nodded again. He suspected it but now that he had a confirmation... “I shouldn’t-”

“You can, if you want to,” you told him, kissing his lips. “I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else. Only if you want to.”

“I want to, I want to so bad,” he shifted your positions, making you lay down on your back and it was like he suddenly found a new purpose. His demeanour changed and he started trailing kisses all over your body. “Just relax then. Tonight is all about you.”

You obeyed though you were pretty sure you sounded impatient. San fondled with your breasts, peppering kisses along them and then down to your stomach. He looked at you again, trying to spot any signs of hesitance but you looked so sure that he couldn’t help it. 

“Are you ready?” He asked and you nodded, bracing yourself when he rubbed his cock against your folds. He laughed a little at that, kissing your temple and whispering, “Relax and breathe.” Then he started sinking his cock inside you and you felt a little sting as he entered, slowly but surely. All the while, he cooed praises into your ears, caressing your waist and asking if you felt okay. He wasn’t sure how long he would last because you felt so tight against him, but he would hold on for you.

“How does it feel?”

“Full,” you laughed, finally relaxing when you felt him bottom out. He grinned at that. “I think you can move now.”

“You think?” He teased. “For someone who’s never done this before, you sure acted like a pro.”

“I may have read some fiction to entertain myself in this boring dungeon…” you admitted and he laughed. He rolled his hips experimentally and you sucked in a breath at the sensation, wondering how it could feel so good. Slowly, he set a pace comfortable enough for both of you while he kissed your sweet spot, sucking a mark into it.

“You might want to hide that in the morning,” he kissed the spot.

“Well, I’ve been hiding marks for far too long now,” you scoffed. “But how would you hide them if I gave you one?”

“I wouldn’t hide it,” San mumbled against your lips, pecking them. “I’d show it off proudly.”

You smacked his arm and he grinned, his gaze going hard as he slammed his cock inside you once, earning a loud moan. “You like that?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Again. Harder.”

And just like that, something in San broke. He quickened his pace, making sure to hit that one spot every time he drove his cock inside you after almost sliding out. The sounds of your pants and your bodies slamming against each other filled the air now that your highs were approaching. The kisses got messier, and when his hand rested on your neck, your walls clenched, making him groan loudly. He held your face in one hand, pulling one leg up so he was unbelievably close to you as he slammed his cock inside again.

You could only call his name in warning as your walls clenched and you trembled like nothing before, the orgasm rushing through you and making you limbless, barely able to breathe. The sensation of your walls clenching and unclenching did it for him too, but just as he was about to slide out of you, you wrapped your legs around him and pushed him back inside, making him drop his body on yours as his own orgasm washed over him and you couldn’t have asked for anything more- the feeling of his warm cum coating your walls was enough to send you into heaven. He laughed in disbelief, burying his face in the crook of your neck, letting you rock your bodies together until you were satisfied. 

“You’re unbelievable,” he kissed your temple, loving the feeling of your bodies wrapped around each other. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You only smiled, pushing your intertwined limbs so you were half on top of him. “I’m gonna sleep just like this tonight.”

“I’ll bust a nut in a few minutes if you keep me like this,” San muttered and you laughed.

“I wouldn’t mind a second round.”

“Shh,” San smacked your arm playfully. “Let me clean you up. You don’t want the maids to find you in this state.”

“True,” you pouted. “But they will probably be able to smell the love in the air.”

“Try not to make it obvious,” he laughed and you decided to stay like that just a little longer.

 —---------------------------

The King finally came to your chamber after a week. You weren’t sure if he wanted to, more like he had to because it looked like he finally needed you again.

He apologised whenever he needed something from you, it had always been like this. You were just waiting for him to stop making small talk and get to the point.

He walked with his hands crossed behind his back, examining the living room, the maids long gone giving you two some privacy. You thought he looked funny walking like that- as if he was coming here for the first time. You put two sugars in his cup of tea as he preferred and when you started to stir it, he finally sat down in front of you.

“I went to town a couple of days ago and came across Lord Han. He inquired about your health.”

“And did he look okay?” You sipped your tea. “I remember he complained a lot about his joints the last time we met.”

“He seemed fine,” your husband responded, shrugging.

“And what about you? Your hand… is it okay?” You finally asked now that the small bandage was in your sight.

“Yeah, it was only a small cut, nothing much,” he coughed awkwardly. “I… I’m sorry for that night. I shouldn’t have gone so far.”

“You shouldn’t have,” you nodded. “You shouldn’t have begun. You know I don’t have much influence in Utopia. I only told the Prince the truth. You must have promised him Utopia’s support, isn’t that the case?”

When he didn’t respond, only clenching his jaw as if holding back a remark, you said softly, “If you had told me about the deal earlier, I would have tried to pull some strings. Now you’re halfway there and want to add Utopia in this deal because Eden and Wonderland are lacking funds. It’s clear as day that you’re only using them- and I’m not saying this as a Utopian. You’re smart- you clearly realise that too.”

“Well… can you do something now? I really don’t want to cancel this deal,” he sighed. 

“Do you ever wonder if you’re biting off more than you can chew? Not with Utopia… with Wonderland and all these plans about annexing islands that your family helped gain independence?” 

“They didn’t know any better,” the King wasn’t buying it. “When my grandfather made it happen, he didn’t realise that we were giving away the resources that once helped our kingdom become steady and stand on its feet.”

“But… despite how you have been with me as a husband,” you said and he raised a brow, “I still believe you’re a good ruler. You’ve always been fair, and this deal is anything but fair. I don’t know what else the Prince of Wonderland has promised you, but will you at least reconsider? Do you not care for the destruction that will ensue from this deal?”

For a second, for a good second, you thought his eyes softened and he actually reconsidered. And for that second, you were ready to redact your plan to destroy him. You would have forgiven him and asked for a divorce, plain and simple. But when his gaze hardened, you felt your heart shatter- he was beyond help.

And his words only proved it.

“Who’s backing you? Huh? Trying a new tactic to make me give in? Or have you already corresponded back home and plan to side against us?”

You shut your eyes as you exhaled deeply. “You know what? Fine. I’ll write a letter in front of you. In fact, you can write it yourself and send it to Utopia. No one is backing me. And I hope you find yourself in a situation where no one backs you either, and you get a taste of what that feels like,” you got up after nearly slamming the cup on the table. “Your parents, your grandparents… everything they worked for, you’ll be undoing it. They’ll be ashamed of you.”

Before the King could retort in any way, physical or verbal, you decided to leave the chamber itself- staying in here wouldn’t help you in any way. He would either spend the rest of the evening cursing you or trying to get you to bend and you couldn’t have that. You raised a hand in dismissal when a guard tried following you- a clear sign to be left alone. 

You descended the stairs, the maids and servants bowing when you crossed their path. You had never explored too much of the castle and you only knew the way to the halls and the kitchens. You walked without a direction in your head, wanting to get lost-

And a sharp turn later, you almost bumped into a figure, gentle hands bracing your figure, a touch that you recognised immediately-

“San,” you breathed and he scanned you in surprise. 

“Are you okay? What’s the matter?”

“I was just… taking a walk,” you looked back, nobody in sight. “Where are you headed?”

“I had an errand to run,” he waved the documents in his hands. “But what is the Queen really doing here?”

You sighed. “He was in my room and we had an argument. I stormed off.”

San looked around once before kissing your forehead. “Do you want some fresh air? Shall I accompany you to the gardens?”

“No,” you shook your head. “It’s best that we’re not seen together. I’ll go to the gardens myself, and… will I see you tonight?”

“If the King goes to his room, yes,” he promised, squeezing your shoulder in assurance. “Let me drop you off at least.”

You shrugged, following him as he briefed you about the latest court meeting the King attended. You found your maid in a corner with a few others and when she spotted you, she bowed before running to you.

“Good thing that I found you,” you smiled at her. “I got lost. Lord Choi was kind enough to guide me to the gardens.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I’ve been here for three years and I still get lost,” she admitted and San stifled a smile. “Shall I take you from here?”

“Yes, Lord Choi must be busy, let’s not bother the poor man,” you subtly winked at him and he bowed before leaving, his eyes holding promise of what he would do with you if he saw you at night. The excitement of that alone was enough to relax you and you followed your maid, listening to her as she talked about the new crocheting skill she learned from an elder.

When night time approached and San came to your room, you went straight to work. You were still locking the door of the chamber and it looked like the King hadn’t found out yet anyway. He never bothered coming anymore- and that was good. You didn’t want him either.

You first talked about the plan with San, going to your office and reading through the latest correspondence from Wonderland- the Prince had already deposited a large sum to the King. The King was still holding back on the blueprints of the weapons though, perhaps hoping to secure Utopia’s alliance first. At least he was smart enough to do that, you thought. Then San gave you another letter from Lord Jeong in Wonderland and you read it out loud.

“There’s a third party involved that your king does not know of yet- their oldest enemy. They have been offered what you offered to our nation but there has been no talk about what they will offer us in return. Foul play? Sounds like something your king should know,” you looked at San. “A third party?”

“Wonderland’s oldest enemy would be Halaland,” San thought for a moment. “So Lord Jeong is saying that Wonderland is offering to share the weapons blueprints that we’re providing them with. And whatever Halaland has promised Wonderland in return is a secret?”

“Foul play,” you recalled. “Maybe the army Wonderland is providing us with will ultimately take over Eden. Maybe Wonderland and Halaland will get to share what’s left of this kingdom by the time they’re done.”

San shook his head in disappointment. “The King… he does not realise what he’s gotten himself into. The Prince of Wonderland is really something to have brainwashed him this much.”

“You know,” you placed the letter on the table. “When the King came here in the afternoon, I gave him one final chance. I was willing to end this with a silent divorce if he was willing to reconsider his deal with Wonderland,” you sighed deeply. “He ended up wondering if I was being ‘backed’ by someone and was siding against him.”

“He doesn’t even deserve that chance,” San shook his head. “That could have ended badly, y/n.”

“I know,” you pursed your lips. “I’m not even disappointed anymore, I’m just… sad. It’s a shame that it had to end this way.”

“It really is,” San nodded. “But I can’t think of any other way we can save Eden. We can’t let him carry out this plan and destroy Eden just so he can feel accomplished. And maybe it’s the people around him that misguided him too- all those earls and dukes he hangs out with,” San tsk-ed. “He keeps asking my opinion on things. I think he wants to see if I really agree with him or if I’m just playing along.”

“So when we do this… we’ll have to testify against him in court. Provide evidence. I trust you’ve been taking care of that part?”

“I’m the keeper of all those documents,” San nodded. “Unless the King catches on to our plan, which is unlikely, I think we’re good. What about you?”

“I decided to go through the King’s office last night,” you told him, getting up and urging him to follow you. You opened the door to his office and turned on the lamp, steering towards the King’s table. “I found a hidden compartment in here,” you patted underneath the desk. “I thought you might be skilled enough to open it.”

San knelt down to inspect the lock. “It requires a key. I bet the King keeps it on him.”

“Well, do you know how to pick locks?” You asked and he said he could try. He looked around for some tool before his gaze fixated on your pinned hair and he grinned, pulling it out of your hair and bending down. You waited anxiously but when San shook his head, you pouted.

“It’s a good lock,” he said. “Might steal the key some day.”

“Don’t bother, I have plenty of other evidence,” you told him. “I was just curious what else he kept here.”

San nodded, tucking the chunk of hair that had escaped your tied hair and pinning it back, a faint smile on his lips as he trailed his fingers along the side of your face and rested it under your chin. “So… shall we start searching for allies in the court?”

“I think so,” you said, watching his eyes turn soft as they fell on your lips. “I could start with the people who sided with Utopia two decades ago.”

“Sounds like a plan,” San’s voice was low and he swiped a thumb across your lower lip. “The door is locked, yeah?”

“Yes,” you breathed, and San was immediately crashing his lips on yours, his arms keeping you tucked to his body and you responded with the same eagerness, fisting his shirt. His tongue prodded between your lips and you opened your mouth, kissing him back passionately while his tongue explored your mouth. You kissed for a while before you drew back for breath, laughing.

“What’s with the sudden change of mood?”

San smirked dangerously, picking you up and you squealed, instinctively wrapping your legs around him. He placed you on the King’s desk, hands on either side of you as he locked eyes with you, now matching your height.

“I’ve been planning to make a mess of his office,” San admitted, leaning in and you heard the sounds of the objects falling from the desk when he swiped his hand across to make space. “And now seems like a perfect time.”

Your mouth parted in surprise as a wave of arousal washed over you- taking you in the King’s office? “You’re insane.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t fantasised about this,” San started trailing kisses along your neck. “Because I want to make love to you everywhere. I want to fuck you on the King’s desk, the King’s bed, his furniture, the walls of his chamber. And I want to paint your walls with my cum. Show him that this is what he gets for whatever he did to you. And I want to hear you scream my name. God, I wish he could hear that.”

You were pretty sure you almost came from his words alone. “San,” you pleaded, drawing him closer with uneven breaths. San kissed you deeply, joining his forehead with yours.

“I’m sometimes mad at him for treating you like this, but…” San scoffed. “I know it’s what brought us together. I can’t thank him for what he did, but god, I’m so glad that you are mine. I wish he loved you but I’m glad he didn’t, because now I can show you what it’s like to be loved. I love you.”

“I understand,” you told him, almost crying. You really did. “If I hadn’t married him… I wouldn’t have found you.” You pecked his lips. “And whatever happened, it’s sad but… I’m glad you came. I’m glad I found you, and I love you more than you can imagine.”

San kissed you again, this time sensually, just revelling in the feeling of how well your lips fit as if made for each other while his fingers untied your gown, making it slip away to your shoulders. While he kissed you, he ran his hands across your chest, fondling your breast and then he broke apart only to latch his mouth on one of your breasts while he caressed the other, eliciting a deep moan out of you. His lips travelled further down, trailing kisses along your stomach until he reached the waistband of your panties.

“Won’t you be a good girl and take them off for me?” He whispered against your core and you fought the urge to ride his face. You instead pushed him back with a pout, making him chuckle deeply. You shimmied your panties off, the cold air of the room making you clench your thighs together but San tsk-ed, pushing your legs apart to make room for him.

“So pretty,” he licked his lips at the sight of your soaking core, kissing your lips once before going straight for your clit and kissing it, making you groan. Then he swiped his tongue along your folds, lapping at your arousal hungrily and simultaneously inserting a finger inside you. All of the sensations were enough to make you squirm wildly, unable to do anything except clench the sides of the desk while your back arched at the feeling of his mouth on your core and his finger inside you. He prodded another finger inside, smirking at the face you made- bliss.

“So needy for me, aren’t you?” He scissored inside, preparing you for what was about to come. “What would the King think if he found his queen being fucked by his most loyal servant?”

“Not… not his queen,” you managed to say. “Only yours. Only your queen.”

San seemed to like that answer and he placed his free hand behind your neck to bring you to his lips, kissing you passionately and swallowing your moans as you finally got the chance to clench your thighs, rolling your hips while he pressed his thumb to your clit. Just when your walls clenched as an indication that you were about to come, San drew apart and pulled his fingers out of you, licking them clean and you shook your head at the sight. His gaze darkened and he cupped your chin, opening your mouth and inserting those very fingers in there, making you suck at them. 

“Like how you taste on me?” He asked, groaning at the sight of your glazed eyes. “You sure know how to use your mouth, Princess.”

“I want you,” you told him as you unbuttoned his shirt, going for his pants but he shook his head.

“Not now,” he took them off himself. “I want to fuck you raw right here, right now.”

You scoffed and spread your thighs for him and he swiped his hard length along your folds, lubricating them before entering slowly, stretching you out. Once he was fully inside you, he thrusted inside once, swallowing your loud moan with a kiss. Soon, he set at a steady pace, making you more and more desperate with each thrust.

“San, I’m so close,” you told him. 

“So am I,” he groaned, his grip on your hips harsh enough to leave marks. You were balancing yourself with your arms around his neck and it looked like he had an idea- he unwrapped your arms and made you lay down on the desk and when you put your legs on his shoulders, he grinned in satisfaction.

“Feel that?” He thrusted inside you with all his might and you put a hand over your mouth to stifle the unholy sound of pleasure that would have left you. “So fucking tight, and so fucking full.”

You couldn’t even respond- you were seeing stars, and you had never felt this pleasured, this wanted before. San pressed kisses on your leg as he continued thrusting inside you, your moans mixing with each other, his hands on your waist keeping you close to him. 

“Come for me, my queen,” he groaned and your walls fluttered around him. “Come for me.”

This time, you didn’t hold back your moans as your walls clenched and you squirmed under him and he came right with you, the feeling of his warm cum heightening your orgasm. You whimpered almost pathetically as he continued thrusting, fucking his cum inside you before sliding out, watching your pussy leaking on the King’s desk.

“What a sight,” he caressed your legs, drawing them down so he could lean forward and kiss you gently. “I could do this forever, y/n, fuck,” he breathed against your lips. “I love you so much.”

“Me too,” you said, barely able to breathe. “I love you.” You pecked his cheek before resting your head back on the desk, trying to calm down. “San, you’ll… you’ll stay with me, right? After all of this? Where do you want to go? What do you want to do?”

“Slow down, love,” San chuckled, grabbing some tissues and cleaning you up, tossing them in the bin and deciding to take you to bed first, muttering that cleaning could wait. He laid you down and settled next to you, drawing the covers over you both and you scooted closer, resting your head on his arm.

“I should ask you- what do you want to do after this is over? WIll you go back to your home?”

You bit your lips- you would have wanted to go home but things had changed now. Perhaps, San could hear your answer in your silence. He kissed your forehead. “You can tell me, y/n. I’ll go with you wherever you want.”

“That’s not fair,” you pouted. “You must have something you want to do if you’re not the King’s Right Hand anymore. You must have thought about how you wanted to settle down.”

“But things are different now, aren’t they?” He said, his voice almost a whisper. “Now, I’ll follow you to the edge of the earth.”

You laughed in disbelief at that, overwhelmed by his confession. “Let’s chase each other then. Wherever we go.”

—------------------------------

The next few days passed by in a blur- it was mostly you planning and corresponding with your ‘friends’ around the continent- Utopia’s spies might be a better term for some of them. You received confirmation that there was indeed a deal going around between Wonderland and Halaland and since Halaland was a well-established nation, you couldn’t think of anything else it would want except to expand its kingdom. 

You and San barely had time to do anything other than exchange information and let your next moves play out. Your goal was to earn the favour of the King’s court before Lord Jeong in Wonderland would land the killing blow on the Prince. The Prince’s plans were soon going to become public and when the King would be wondering if they were just rumours or if they held any truth to them, that was when you were going to submit evidence against the King in the court. You were just waiting for Lord Jeong to arrive here with the physical evidence of weapons dealings between Wonderland and Halaland.

Though there was a lot going on, the King started making visits to your chamber more often. It was probably because he wanted to earn your favour and get Utopia to fund Eden. You wanted to tell him that getting Utopia’s funds would end with Eden’s downfall but he was entertaining none of your doubts, so you let him be. You let him yell at you whenever he wanted, you let him chat with you when he felt like it. You even let him caress your cheek and peck your lips, though it disgusted you now. The King knew that you wouldn’t give in so he was resorting to being physically affectionate with you. To make you think that he wasn’t the same man who would lose his mind and hurt you. 

And maybe, if it weren’t for San showing you what it felt like to be loved, you would have caved in. If you hadn’t experienced love in its best form, you would have been starved for affection and thought that the King was really changing for good- but not now. Your thoughts had never been clearer.

Between all of this, you couldn’t stop worrying about the future. If your plan succeeded and the King divorced you… where would you go? Back to Utopia only to get wed to another man? You loved your home, yes, but it was cruel. Your parents wouldn’t let you stay unmarried for the rest of your life- you could already imagine how appalled they would be when you get divorced. Their scrutinising gazes… you could already feel them on your back.

As for Eden… you worried about its future. The court of the King was thirsty for power, and you sometimes worried if the people who knew of the deal with Wonderland supported him for the purpose of his eventual downfall so they could seat themselves on his throne. You decided to start looking into the King’s bloodline- he must have some relatives around. You were Utopian and you could not rule this kingdom.

With all of these thoughts plaguing your mind, when the knock sounded and your maids announced the arrival of Lord Kang, you straightened and welcomed him inside. After a bow, he settled in front of you.

“How has your family been?” You asked as a greeting. “I haven’t seen your sister in a while.”

“I told her to stay away from royal affairs,” he chuckled, a fondness in his eyes. “I think she enjoyed your anniversary party a bit too much- my apologies if she said or did something-”

“Not at all,” you laughed. “She makes quite pleasant company, you can tell her that.”

Lord Kang smiled and you offered him tea. After a sip, he finally asked. “Why did you request my presence today, Your Majesty?”

“Well, I wanted to discuss a few things with you,” you began. “I understand that you’re close with the King- you’re one of his trusted advisors.”

“That I am.”

“Then you must know about the deal we have going on with Wonderland,” you said and he nodded, curious to hear where this was going. “What do you think about the deal?”

“You want my opinion?” He asked and you nodded. He cleared his throat. “I think it’s a good deal but we lack funds-”

“Lord Kang,” you interrupted and he looked cautiously at you. “I was also a royal advisor until a year ago when I got married. You and I both know this deal isn’t as good as the King thinks it is, don’t we?”

When Lord Kang didn’t respond, you decided to give him another moment while you sipped your tea. “From what I’ve seen in the court, your decisions are always in the favour of Eden as a kingdom, not Eden as the King’s playground. Sometimes you offer opposing arguments to the King, which is why he trusts you- you make him see things from a different perspective. I want your perspective on this deal- not the King’s advisor, but simply Lord Kang.”

A faint smile crawled on his lips and he shook his head. “You want me to be honest with you?”

“Absolutely,” you glanced at him. “I hope that is not a problem.”

“I’d rather know what you think about the deal first, Your Majesty,” he relaxed back, folding his arms. “My answer could change depending on your answer.”

You scoffed but you could understand- he probably thought this was the King testing him out or something. Of course he didn’t know just what sort of a relationship you and the King had- and why would the Queen ever want the advice of her husband’s trusted man on this matter without the King’s knowledge? The King was out in town today so you had carefully chosen the time too.

“Are you aware of the deal between Wonderland and Halaland?”

“Wonderland and Halaland?” He frowned. “I am not aware.”

“Well, they do have something going on. And one might think- with the deal with Eden, why would Wonderland want to be involved with Halaland? It’s not a secret that Eden and Halaland hate each other.”

Lord Kang fell silent for a few minutes but then he sighed. “I’m not sure what we have going on with Wonderland is good either. We’re known for our armoury but to give that to Wonderland? Alright, if we get something good enough in return- but the annexation of the few islands that just gained independence from us not so long ago? Eden will be called a traitor nation, and this is not what the King’s parents and grandparents worked for.”

“My point exactly,” you nodded. “If it was, I don’t know, better trade? Opening a route? I would have agreed to the deal with all my heart. If it benefitted Eden, I would have no problem with it, but I’m not sure the current deal benefits Eden. And the King is demanding funds from Utopia, but Utopia won’t give in- Utopia and Wonderland have a history, as you know.”

“I’m aware.”

“The King thinks I can influence Utopia, but I cannot. I am the youngest of four which means even as the Queen of Eden, my position won’t influence my family.”

“You must be in a spot then,” Lord Kang cocked his head, trying to figure you out. “The King can only ask you for funds.”

“I am, and the King may be my husband, but if this deal goes on, what do you think Wonderland will do with the funds we give them? Help Eden annex the islands, and then?”

“Demand a share,” Lord Kang said and you nodded. “And Halaland…?”

“Wonderland is providing Eden with an army and demanding Utopia help them fund that army. What could Halaland want from Wonderland, Lord Kang? What is the one thing Halaland is lacking at?”

“A good armoury,” Lord Kang started connecting the dots. “You’re saying Wonderland will give our weapons blueprints to Halaland? For what?”

“For what?” You retorted. “You tell me, Lord Kang.”

Realisation dawned on his face and he frowned. “Your Majesty… are you sure? Where did you hear that?”

“I have some evidence, and some more arrives soon, but I hope this is enough,” you passed the register that had been lying on the table to Lord Kang for him to inspect it. While he scrolled through the entries and made sure the stamp on it seemed real, you finished your tea, feeling satisfied. 

“Halaland is funding Wonderland. And it can only be for one reason- the army they will insert inside Eden will not only annex the islands, but make Eden submit to the two. Eden will be no more. The King refuses to see it,” you told him. “And the annexation of the islands alone is enough to get him tried in the court, isn’t that right? It violates a bunch of international laws. And if you knew about this annexation, Lord Kang, just why were you playing along with the King?”

Lord Kang sighed deeply. “The King… he only let me and Lord Jung know a few days ago, and he ordered us to carry on with his plans. There is obviously a hanging threat on our heads that he hasn’t said out loud yet, but we know that we have to tread cautiously. We don’t know who’s the enemy or who is the ally anymore. We’re confused, if you can’t tell already,” he sighed in defeat and you pursed your lips.

“Look, I have no ulterior motive today. I have tried every possible method to get the King to listen to me and see that this deal will get not only him but his kingdom destroyed, but he has also tried every possible means to make me bend to his will, and I’m not sure I can win without your support. The only thing I will get from this is a divorce, which I’ve wanted for quite some time now.”

Lord Kang frowned in confusion. “To make you bend to his will?”

You hadn’t planned this, but you figured someone should know. You rolled your sleeves a bit to show him the ugly blue bruise and scratch the King had left on you not too long ago. Lord Kang paled at the sight.

“I know your sister is quite a fan of the King,” you chuckled, “but men… men can be scary. Power is not meant for every man. Not a lot of them can handle it, and when they can’t… they resort to such means.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” you told him. “Just know that I would have demanded a divorce anyway. This deal is providing me the opportunity to save Eden- and I don’t hate Eden- the people of Eden have always been nice to me. I hate the King. Believe me, I tried to make him see sense. But my job now is done, and I will be submitting all this evidence against the King and the Prince of Wonderland in the court. Would you like to be my ally in all of this, or would you rather see your kingdom fall?”

“I think you already know the answer,” he rubbed his face. “What should I do?”

You smiled at him. “I need more allies- only people you trust. Lord Choi… he is our ally too. Please work with him and get anyone who is good at heart at your side. The rest will be tried in the court along with the King. And the Prince of Wonderland… his days are numbered. You should know that. You have a week, and you all can try convincing the King if you can. In fact, it would be better if the King redacts from the plan, but please don’t let him get a wisp of the fact that I’m involved in all of this.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Lord Kang put a hand on his heart. “I understand. And I admire your devotion to the kingdom that has failed you-”

“The kingdom didn’t fail me,” you smiled sadly. “Its ruler did. One week to decide his fate, Lord Kang. Save him if you can- it’s the last act of mercy I will allow him before I get what is owed to me.”

—-------------------------

You never thought this day would come- the bright lights in the Great Hall were making your head throb. The noise around you from the audience was deafening and the pounding of the gavel was synchronising with your heartbeat as you stared at the man who had ruined your life.

The King of Eden, now in the court facing you. 

He wasn’t surprised anymore. The surprise had worn off a few days ago when he learnt about the evidence you had submitted against him in the royal court, when he tried confronting you- but you now had the protection of his own court, which was a slap on his face. He had taken one look around the room and found most of his trusted advisors and his Right Hand around you. And he had lost it.

He had absolutely lost it, and his advisors finally saw him as the man he was and not the King. They watched him yell at you and pick up a vase to throw at you, which was when a few of them restrained him and accompanied him to his chambers with the guards while Lord Kang sighed in disappointment, sharing a look with San and agreeing that it was no longer safe for you to stay in the castle- the accusations the King had spewed accompanied with the threats were enough to cause worry. So Lord Kang arranged a place for you- he was kind enough to offer you a room in his own house, and his sister was elated to be near you anyway, though quite disappointed about how things had turned out. 

“The Queen may now speak. Silence must be observed while the situation is explained.”

You nodded at the judge. It was the final day of the court hearing and only your statement remained. The court members who had allied with you had given their statements- that included the King’s Right Hand San as well. Perhaps, his ‘betrayal’ hurt the King more than yours. After all… he was once his friend.

You recalled the events of last night. Though San and you had agreed not to meet up unless absolutely necessary, San had found you in Lord Kang’s gardens after his session in the court. You took one look at his face and knew that he was hurting, so you called him in your room there, finally sharing some privacy-

And San hugged you immediately, melting in your arms, almost losing balance. Your heart clenched and you sank down with him, letting him sort his thoughts out in your arms while you caressed his hair. When he finally drew apart, you caressed his face.

“I know how hard it was for you,” you told him. “And I’m sorry I put you through this.”

“No,” San shook his head. “It’s for the better. I did it for him too- for our kingdom. Maybe one day… he’ll return a better man and a better ruler.”

“Maybe,” you smiled, pecking his lips. “I’m so proud of you.”

San chuckled at that, shaking his head and muttering something about how the roles shifted. 

You could understand exactly how he must have felt now that you were facing the King. 

“Your honour… I’m not sure if it’s exactly the King’s fault for believing that the Prince of Wonderland could be trusted. But you are aware from all the hearings of our court during the past couple of weeks that the only crime the King has committed is almost selling off our kingdom unknowingly, with the greed of wanting to annex our bordering islands. Sharing top secret information about the weapons without the consent of the Minister of Defence- yes, the King has the final say but the Minister of Defence’s consent is necessary to avoid situations like the one that has now unfolded. And the fact that those blueprints would have ultimately been in Halaland’s hands?”

The room echoed agreements and the King looked down. You continued. “The King was not aware of the deal between Wonderland and Halaland. I can vouch for that. However… the King is responsible for violating the international code of weapons and armoury and the code of unlawful and illegal annexation. Since the damage is still minimal, I hope his sentence can be accordingly. However…”

The judge looked at you expectantly and you waited for the King to lock his gaze with yours, looking partly sorry and partly grateful that you weren’t exaggerating anything, you took a deep breath.

“Since everyone is present here, I would officially like to announce my demand for a divorce and stepping down as the Queen of Eden. I hope the matter of my divorce can be cleared before the King steps down from his position as well.”

The King sighed deeply at that, about to say something but then he stopped. Perhaps, he finally realised that nothing he said now could make it up to you. He had tried everything- he had also tried influencing the court but since you had witnesses now- San, Lord Kang and the maid who used to play chess with you- the judge had warned the King in the previous session to stop trying to threaten or bribe the court. The King had lost.

“I understand,” the judge pounded the gavel again and announced a break while they made the final decisions. You looked at the King- as your husband- for perhaps the last time.

You had demanded a divorce the day he burst into your chamber with the whole court present. The documents only needed his signature but he refused to comply out of spite, so you decided a public announcement would humble him- these judges were also handling the procedure of your divorce with this case because they had learnt how everything was connected- and how Utopia was meant to be a tool that Eden would provide with its own hands to the nations that would end her.

It did. You could see he looked weary now. Lord Kang and Lord Jeong stepped in and helped you out of the room to another hall nearby while you waited for the judges’ decision. Meanwhile, San, who was still the King’s Right Hand, was probably consoling the King. Or giving him a piece of his mind. You hoped it was both.

“How are you holding up?” Lord Kang asked, signalling the maids to get you something to drink.

You took a shaky breath. “Not the best. I don’t know what’s going to happen. Lord Jeong… you’re good, right? You still have a day in case you’re getting cold feet.”

Lord Jeong scoffed, shaking his head. “I still think it’s too much- just because I’m related to the King very distantly does not mean I’m fit for the throne.”

“Exactly,” Lord Kang quipped in. “But that’s not the reason we recommended you as the new king of Eden, though it was part of it.”

Lord Jeong shivered involuntarily and you grinned despite yourself. “You’ll make a good king. I feel it in my heart.”

He passed you an affectionate look. “Worry about yourself right now, dear.”

Lord Kang snorted at that and that sparked bickering between the three of you until one of the guards knocked to tell you that the court was ready to announce their decisions. You took a deep breath, the others mirroring your movement and the three of you shared a look before going to the court.

Everything was going to change from this moment.

And everything did change.

—------------------------

“Wooyoung, where did you put my speech?” You asked, checking all the drawers in the desk again. You recalled seeing him copying some bits from your speech, which earned him a smack from Yeosang, but he wasn’t bothered enough. You all knew he wasn’t going to read from a piece of paper anyway, he would simply improvise.

“Lord Jung Wooyoung,” you called in a warning tone which finally made him stop laughing at the very nervous, soon to be crowned Lord Jeong, who was pacing in front of the fireplace trying to play the events that would unfold tonight in his head, while the maid tried to get him to wear a jacket. The maid looked at you for help and you signalled her to settle down for now- no one could calm a nervous Lord Jeong.

“Ah, it must be somewhere around here,” he said dismissively, pointing at the very desk you had been searching for a solid five minutes now. You sent a glare in his direction before spotting a page on the floor near the couch where he had previously been sitting. You sighed, placing your speech back on the desk and skimming through it again.

“I know you’re both going to end up improvising anyway,” Yeosang said, “so why bother now? Stop trying to memorise it.”

“Honestly, you should be the one memorising it right now,” Wooyoung looked at him pointedly. “You always forget what you’re about to say.”

You stifled a snort at that, going towards your maid who sat helplessly with the jacket. You took it from her and patted her shoulder. “It’s okay, you’ve done enough.”

“I don’t want to be his maid when he becomes the King,” she pouted. “I want to continue working for you. I bet he’s not as good at chess as you are.”

“Oh, he’s better,” you laughed, glancing at the tall man now biting his nails while he stared at the fire. “Can you get Lord Choi? He must be in the Great Hall worrying just like him. And then you can get ready too. Remember to bring the flowers, okay?”

The maid got up, glad to be relieved of her duties and you joined Lord Jeong by the fireplace. “We still have some time before the coronation begins, so why don’t you sit down and relax a bit?”

“I’m still wondering if this is a good decision,” he admitted, running a hand through his dark locks. 

“Well…” you took a deep breath. “I’ve been monitoring you for the past three months, Yunho. I’d say you’re pretty good at what you do. If I had any doubts about you before… they’re gone now.”

“Really?” He asked, a smile growing on his lips as he looked at you. 

“Really,” you nodded, smiling back. You knew that Jeong Yunho may be good at what he did but he needed affirmation, especially from you. He was hell bent on the idea that you could keep being the Queen of Eden and he could be your royal advisor or something instead, but you made him switch the roles. You did not wish to be the Queen anymore- it wasn’t your place to be, though no one around you opposed the idea when he first presented it. So whenever you told Yunho that he made a great king, he took your word seriously. “It’s a big day today. Get some rest, please. We don’t want you fumbling in the Great Hall in front of hundreds of people, okay?”

“Geez, thanks,” Yunho shook his head, letting you help him with his jacket. You straightened the collars and patted his shoulder, glancing at your right to see San leaning against the wall and watching you two with a smile.

“Is she bothering you, Yunho? Should I see her out?”

“I’d rather you see him out,” he pointed at Wooyoung who was eating peanuts, throwing the shells at a very annoyed Yeosang who was throwing them back.

“Kids, both of them,” you laughed. Sometimes, you wondered why you ever thought they were serious individuals. Perhaps, now that you were close and comfortable enough with each other to skip the titles, you saw them in a new light now. 

Except now you used your titles to mock each other.

“Rich coming from you, Princess,” Wooyoung said. “I saw you trying to blow the seeds of the oranges and make them land in the bin. Must say, I’m impressed with your aim.”

You may have been ashamed some other day, but not now. “That’s what years of practice does. My aim is better than yours though- you really can’t land one shell on Yeosang.”

“Yes,” Yeosang agreed. “I’m better. Watch-” 

He flicked a shell that landed straight in the middle of Wooyoung’s head where he parted his hair, making him shut his eyes in annoyance as everyone laughed. San nudged your hand and you looked at him- he pointed towards the room. You were still living here even after getting divorced because Yunho insisted that you stay at least until the coronation and help him prepare in the meanwhile. You let San take you there and he squeezed your hand after shutting the door.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like the weight on my shoulder is getting lighter,” you laughed. “They all still treat me like I’m the Queen. Yeosang still calls me ‘Your Majesty’. I can’t wait until they start calling Yunho ‘Your Highness’.”

San laughed at that, kissing your temple. “Well, you’ll always be our queen. In our hearts.”

“Wait till the future queen hears about this,” you scoffed. “What about you? I bet you didn’t think you’d watch two coronations happen at this age.”

“Ah, that’s what I wanted to talk about,” San pulled out a letter from the pocket of his jacket. “The King- I should really stop calling him that, but he sent a letter. You should give it a read.”

“Oh?” You took the letter, wondering what its contents were. San made you sit down, assuring you that it was okay. You opened the letter and gave it a read.

My old friend San,

I hope you’re doing well. The weather here is nice, and I miss my parents. I think it is why I always avoided coming here, because this is where they were happy, and this is where I would miss them. Maybe I should have come here before I lost my path. I found my father’s journals and I’ve been reading them. After all the reading I’ve done in the past three months, I have realised that I have failed my parents, and y/n… she has made them proud by saving the kingdom that my parents worked so hard to protect. The kingdom my grandparents fought for, so we could live freely. If my mother was alive today, she would have liked y/n very much. If my father was alive today, he might have given her a position in his own court. I wronged her, I always knew that. I don’t know where the violence came from- my parents did not raise me like this. I understand that you are ashamed of me, like so many others, but I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me one day. I hope she can forgive me one day too. I heard she won’t take the crown. I wish she would have, but if she insists cousin Jeong is a good choice… then I’ll agree with her. In my room, in my desk there is a secret compartment, the key to which I kept hidden in the bookshelf in y/n’s office between my favourite books- she will know which ones. You will find the tie that I wore to the coronation, that my ancestors wore, that I would like cousin Jeong to wear now. It is blue like the colour of Eden. 

I think I like it here. I might spend longer than my sentence of ten years. I would like it very much if you could visit me one day. Take care of yourself, and… take care of her. I know you will.

“Wow,” you breathed, turning the letter but finding it ending abruptly just like that with his signature in the bottom. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” San took your hand in his, caressing it. “You don’t have to do anything.”

“It’s just that… I understand, I really do. But he sounds the same,” you looked at San. “He had his good days, and he sounded like this. I don’t know if he was having a good day or if he’s actually remorseful.”

“I don’t know either, but…” San cocked his head in thought. “If he’s actually feeling remorseful, this is a good first step.”

You nodded, staring at the letter. San gently took it away and tucked it back in his pocket, locking his eyes with yours and making sure you were okay before gently kissing you. You kissed him back, glad he was here with you right now. He drew back and smiled.

“Shall we go and crown the new king then? You and I, his Right Hand and Royal Advisor? You still have time if you want to change your position.”

“Nah, I’m good,” you looked around. “As much as I hated this room, this place… I have grown to love it. I don’t want to go back home and be a princess. I want to stay here with you, with everyone. Here, I’m just the King’s royal advisor. And the King won’t care if I’m Utopian.”

“You know, maybe he does,” Wooyoung butted in, entering the room without permission and you stifled the urge to roll your eyes. “He’s from Wonderland, he must hate you. Oh! Or better yet, the two of you might be planning to overthrow him, right? Come on, you can count me in-”

Yunho bumped his shoulder purposely with Wooyoung, making him almost fall on his face and you snorted. “Does my hair look better like this, or-” he parted his hair to the side messily. “Like this?”

You heard the sound of Yeosang laughing to himself and Wooyoung watched Yunho in disbelief. “Nah. He’s not fit to be the king. Princess… please continue to be the queen, please, Your Majesty-”

“Shut up, Wooyoung,” San warned, trying his best to not burst out laughing. You patted his shoulder, getting up and ignoring everyone, going to your office and scanning through the books until you found the astronomy one, wedged between politics and philosophy. You wedged your hand between astronomy and philosophy and felt the cold metal. Satisfied, you got the key out and exited the room to go to the King’s office, unlocking the compartment and finding the blue tie with the King’s wedding band that he had left behind. The one he never wore except on occasions. As if he wanted no physical evidence that he was bound to you.

You took the tie and went back to your room, finding all three of them styling a flustered Yunho’s hair. A knock sounded and your maid entered, saying that it was time for you all to enter the Hall. You shooed the boys away and helped Yunho with the tie, telling him its history and approving his hair. Yeosang and Wooyoung started to push Yunho out of the room and you looked in the mirror- no signs of distress or sadness on your face for once. 

San stood behind you, admiring your flowing blue gown in the mirror, and without warning, pulled the hairpin out of your hair, letting half the curls fall down with your front pinned back. You gasped, “It took the maid 2 hours, Choi San!”

“I like your hair better this way,” he muttered in a low voice laced with innuendo. “I like your hair messy.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, pushing him away with a grin and touching your lipstick again. “Don’t kiss me for the rest of the night.”

“And when the night is over?”

“Then, and only then,” you turned to him, running your finger down his chest. “You can ruin my lipstick then.”

San bowed as if it was an order and arm in arm, you exited your chamber, ready to remove your title of ‘queen’ once and for all. You didn’t need it anymore. You were only a princess now, and your knight was the only person you would ever need.

[6esiree]

Accidentally Sending Them Your Nudes

Imagine you send Alastor, Lucifer, Husk, Adam, and Vox your nudes on accident?

Warnings: NSFW, AFAB reader, Swearing, They all make poor choices and take matters into their own hands, literally—they jack off to you. Lucifer’s and Adam’s parts mention videos instead of nudes. There’s some angst in there + I decided to do a quick reaction before the actual details.

Alastor:

Why did technology have to be so complicated? That’s what Alastor wondered as he pulled his phone out of his breast pocket, the wretched thing interrupting his dinner with Rosie with all the vibrating it was doing. Unfortunately, he never figured out how to silence it, and he didn’t plan to do anything about it out of sheer stubbornness.

“Is it alright if I take this?” Alastor asked Rosie, an apologetic smile on his face.

“Oh, no! It’s no problem with me, darling” Rosie said, putting her fork down and waving him off. “Go on, now—it may be somethin’ important!”

Alastor chuckled, getting up from his seat and pushing it back into the table before making his way to a more private area: the restroom. What a wise choice he had made, especially as he opened what you’d sent him, whatever irritation he previously felt vanishing almost instantaneously. Alastor hardly ever spoke to you, so he was definitely taken aback.

“Hope u like them, daddy Xx.”

——————

Knock, knock, knock!—a hushed curse seeped through Alastor’s lips, his forehead plastered against the cold bathroom tile as his fist eagerly stroked his weeping cock. The man couldn’t answer the rapping at the door, not with his belt unbuckled and his pants unfastened, the series of lewd photos you had mistakenly sent driving him to do something so…uncharacteristic of himself. But, fuck, you had such a pretty cunt.

“Is everything alright with you, Alastor?” Rosie’s voice penetrated the thin, wooden barrier, the only thing preserving his dignity. “You’ve been in there for quite a while.”

You had warned Alastor just a minute too late, your missed calls stacking up in his notifications as he stared at a photo of you in a compromising position. What a whorish thing you had done, but how could he have resisted the sight of your glistening, wet cunt spread apart by your dainty fingers, practically begging whomever you had meant that for to breed your hole?

“I believe there was…something in our food that made me fall ill,” Alastor responded weakly, his fist coming to a halt, making his cock throb in disappointment. “Feel free to leave if you’d like—I’m afraid I’ll be stuck here for a little bit longer.”

The silence Alastor was met with was nerve-wracking, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip to stifle his labored breaths while he waited for Rosie to say something—anything. Eventually, she did, a disappointed ‘Oh, alright’ gracing his ears, the sound of her heels clicking down the hallway his cue to continue with his ministrations. Alastor felt so relieved, but also utterly weak over his lack of self-restraint.

“Hey, uh, if you’re listening to this, call me back,” A voicemail suddenly played from his phone, but all he could focus on was the desperation in your voice, his knees buckling as he neared the edge. “Please, Al.”

Cum spilled through the gaps between his fingers at the sound of your plea, dripping down and staining the tips of his recently-polished shoes. Alastor did not let up on his cock, however, bracing himself on the wall. A strangled groan escaped his throat as he stroked himself to overstimulation. In his twisted mind, that’s what he deserved for abandoning Rosie to jack off in a public restroom to lewd pictures of you.

Lucifer:

With an annoyed sigh, Lucifer pulled his phone from his back pocket, wondering who could be contacting him late at night. Downing whatever was left of his drink, he spotted your name in his notifications as his lock screen lit up, blinking in confusion. Out of all the residents in his daughter’s hotel, he interacted with you the least.

“Want anotha one?” Husk asked him as he grabbed his empty glass, cleaning it.

“Uhh, hold on for just a sec,” Lucifer said, unlocking his phone to see what you possibly needed from him.

Husk merely grunted in response, turning away from him to tend to somebody else. And oh, was Lucifer grateful for that, a blush creeping up his neck as he was met by the sight of something so…filthy. Underneath several short, boring texts that consisted of pleasantries, you sent him a video and the first interesting thing you’d ever told him.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about u <3.”

——————

God, did Lucifer feel depraved as he pressed the replay button on the video you had mistakenly sent him for the fifth time that night. While the true essence of your breathy moans and your squelching cunt were muffled by the putrid static his phone emanated, they were still audible enough to have Lucifer scrambling to his room, freeing himself from the confines of his pants with a gratified sigh as he lay in bed.

“Fuck, I know you didn’t mean to send this to me,” Lucifer whispered, slowly smearing his precum down the expanse of his cock as he shakily held his phone. “But I just couldn’t help myself—please forgive me.”

But what use was Lucifer’s plea for forgiveness when he was locked away in his room? He bit his lip, guilt enveloping his heart as your texts poured in, obscuring the part where you teasingly circled your clit through the thin lace of your panties. Still, instead of responding to you, Lucifer put his phone on airplane mode, the video already saved in his gallery. How wicked of him.

“Yes, show me that pretty little pussy,” Lucifer panted, his cock excitedly jumping in his hand as you tucked the fabric into the inside of your thigh, revealing your wet cunt. “Good girl—fuuuck.”

He thrusted up into his hand, imagining it was his cock pushing past your folds when you plunged two fingers inside of your hole. Lucifer had never thought about you that way before—well, until now of course. He wouldn’t be able to look at you the same, and that’s exactly what you must have feared, he thought as he picked up the pace, tossing his head back into his pillow.

“Lucifer, are you there?” He suddenly heard your voice penetrate the door, but how could he answer it when he was so close to finishing? “Husk told me you were here—come on, please answer.”

By placing his phone against his ear, Lucifer managed to drown out the sound of your knuckles desperately rapping at the door, your virtual cries of ecstasy sending him over the edge. Oh, how he wished he could have watched your cunt flutter around your fingers, or the way your cum dripped down your ass as you pulled them out. But Lucifer would have to do that after he dealt with the real you…including his newfound shame.

Husk:

Before Husk headed out to the bar, he emphasized that he wanted to be left alone, only taking his phone in case of an emergency. Husk wasn’t an asshole, he just wanted to spend what little free time Alastor spared him to do the things he enjoyed, especially without feeling suffocated. But, of course, someone had to disrupt his peace.

“Gotta be fuckin’ shittin me,” Husk sighed as his phone vibrated on the table, the contents of his drink moving along with it.

“Better be somethin’ important,” He mumbled.

Turning over his phone, Husk lifted a brow as he saw a few texts from you sitting in his notifications. None of them communicated any sort of urgency, but he liked you, so he decided to see what was it that you wanted. Husk blinked, the blush on his face accentuated by the alcohol in his system as he stared at something unexpected.

“Look at what u do to me...”

——————

Slumped against the furthest booth of a dimly-lit bar, Husk palmed himself through his pants. ‘Nobody’s looking at you,’ he told himself, yet his eyes continued to dart to nearby patrons as he held his phone below the table. The sleazy tendencies he thought he had abandoned long ago were awoken by a mere picture of your cunt, and with the whiskey clouding his judgment, Husk couldn’t help but indulge himself.

“Christ, is this what ya been hidin’ underneath those baggy clothes?” Husk groaned, taking in the sight of you sprawled on your bed, legs parted and cunt on full display. “So fuckin’ gorgeous.”

In his drunken haze, Husk couldn’t believe that you’d mistakenly sent him these photos, not even as your texts poured in, his thumb casting all of them aside except for one. The phrase ‘I made a mistake,’ stared back at him, and the longer Husk held the notification as he unzipped his pants, the sleazier he felt. In his defense—no, nothing could justify his actions. Nothing at all.

“No wonder I was damned for eternity,” Husk sighed, releasing the notification and freeing his cock in the cold, musty environment that was this shitty rundown bar he had chosen. “Ah, fuck.”

With his eyes glued to your wet, puffy cunt, the inside of your thighs glistening with your juices, Husk surrendered himself to the sight of you as he slowly pumped his cock. How many times had you made yourself cum? He wondered, scrolling to the next photo—oh, your breasts were in this one, and they were so pretty. Husk let out a grunt, feeling one of his suspenders slip off his shoulder as he picked up the pace.

“You’re probably busy drinking right now, but when you see this, give me a call,” It was another text of yours, a curse seeping past his lips as he read it. “Please, Husk…it’s important.”

Yeah, Husk wouldn’t be calling you back, at least not until he was sober. He feared that if he responded to you right now, he’d admit to jacking off to you, or worse, he’d admit to envying whomever was supposed to have seen you in such a crude display in the first place. Husk’s mouth fell open with a long groan, grateful for the music blaring in the background as cum cascaded down his fist. And despite his guilt, he kept your photos.

Adam:

Even though you worked with Adam five days a week, you kept contact to a minimal with him, especially when he started expressing interest in you. That’s why when you realized you accidentally texted him, you were absolutely horrified. But Adam? Oh, he was delighted to see your name in his notifications as he pulled out his phone.

“Hey, Lute, look after the girls while I take this!” Adam said, stepping away from the training grounds.

“Got it, sir,” Lute simply said, her obedience something Adam admired.

You had taken the day off, so Adam wondered what is it that you needed. Maybe you missed him? Yeah, probably, because you never contacted him outside of work. He opened your texts, his breath hitching in his throat as he realized you had sent him a video, referring to him with a pet name instead of ‘Adam.’

“Hi baby, sorry I kept u waiting for so long.”

——————

In a flurry of feathers, Adam left the training grounds, locking himself away in his office with his phone clutched tightly against his chest. There was no way you had mistakenly sent him a video of your nude body, right? You were Adam’s assistant, and he swore there was some tension simmering between the two of you, this supposed accident being your silly little way of admitting your attraction to him.

“So that’s why you took the day off, huh?” Adam huffed, practically tossing himself onto his swivel chair as he hastily undid his robes. “Sick my fucking ass.”

How many times had you rejected Adam? One, two, three—far too many times for him to think that you were playing hard to get, but his ego was just that big. That and his cock, which pulsated at the sight of your hand slowly dipping underneath the waistband of your panties, the outline of your dainty fingers running through your folds. God, you were such a tease.

“That should be me touching you,” Adam muttered, squeezing the base of his cock, precum dripping down the head. “Fuck, maybe tomorrow…”

You tried to call Adam, but all you did was interrupt the moment you lowered your panties, your contact popping up on his screen an utter inconvenience. Decline—his thumb didn’t even hesitate, putting his phone on Do Not Disturb as he resumed the video. Adam stroked his weeping cock with a renewed fervor when he finally saw your glistening cunt, so, so eager to be filled.

“Oh, you’re really gonna get it, baby,” Adam panted, his brows knitted in concentration as he watched you plunge your fingers into your slick hole. “What a greedy fucking pussy.”

You wanted him, you actually wanted him—that’s what Adam tried to convince himself as he finally came, even after you moaned out somebody else’s name at the end of the video. ‘Fuck, what have I done?’ He sighed, trying to ignore the feeling of rejection that threatened to envelop him during his post-nut clarity. As Adam reached for a tissue to clean himself, he secretly hoped that you had done this strictly for monetary reasons.

Vox:

When it came to Vox’s love life, it was virtually nonexistent, filled with possessive sex and mind-numbing arguments. So what did he do? He sought you out, a private escort who had a reputation for filling the emptiness in sinners hearts. Yeah, you dealt in the carnal stuff too, but that’s not what Vox hired you for.

“Hey, baby, my eyes are up here,” Valentino said, placing his elbows on the table, leaning in as Vox pulled out his phone.

“Yeah, I’m well aware of that, Val,” Vox replied dryly, his interest piqued as he saw several of your texts sitting in his notifications.

While Vox paid you the most out of all your clients, he still couldn’t take up most of your schedule, either. There were two days out of the week that you spent elsewhere, and you just happened to be contacting him during one of them. Vox’s heart jumped at that, but then he saw what you’d sent him, inspiring some hope in him.

“Maybe it’s time for something more Xx.”

——————

Thump!—Vox cursed, spilling his drink all over himself as his knee hit up into the table. What a goddamn inconvenience that was, but not for him, no. He used it as an excuse to escape the long overdue, monthly date Valentino had forced him to attend, anxious to deal with the issue in his pants…including the photos you had mistakenly sent him just a second earlier, paying no attention to the ‘Oops’ underneath them.

“Fuck, doll. You finally came to your senses, huh?” Vox groaned, locking himself away in the furthest stall, his fingers shakily unbuckling his belt. “About time…”

While you were a private escort, the attention you provided Vox was just too good for it to be strictly professional; and he clung onto it like a lifeline, abandoning Valentino for you even when he was in the mood for sex. Goosebumps littered his skin as he recalled your fleeting touches, even though they had never dared to visit the area between his legs.

“Ah, fuck,” Vox sighed as he freed his cock, precum dripping down into the crevices between his fingers as he stared at your wet, puffy cunt. “Can’t believe I’ve been missing this all along.”

Vox imagined that it was your dainty hands wrapped around his cock, your chest pressed against his back instead of the cold steel door of the restroom stall as you slowly pumped him. If Vox simply paid you, he wouldn’t have to use his imagination. However, he wanted you to pleasure him without the promise of money, because then that would mean that you wanted him.

“Hey, baby, I know you saw what I sent you,” A voicemail of yours suddenly played out loud, his heart jumping at the sound of your voice. “You know they weren’t for you, right? It was an accident.”

‘An accident? No, it couldn’t be,’ Vox thought, a groan escaping his throat as he finally came, his cum staining the tile between his feet. While he felt relieved, it was only for a bit, the disappointment quickly settling in his stomach soon after. But it wasn’t until Vox cleaned himself up and replayed your voicemail that he accepted he was just another one of your clients. Valentino was the best he’d get when it came to love.

[athena5898]

I often think when people hear "infantilizing a group of people", they think of it literarily that we are actively being made a infant. While this is a part of it, I think people miss the subtle things that end up causing chasms in their relationships with that group of people.

It's actually hard to pinpoint because it's never a singular event, it's many tiny things but the end result is always "I am the authority, I will always know more then you, I will never take your advice, I will never be honest with you (you know to spare *your* feelings), any disagreement is your fault, any problem in your life is my cross to bear and you must follow how I tell you to fix it, I will never stoop myself to understanding what your needs are as X group and will view everything from my own lens and judge you accordingly, we are not equals, and we never will be. (This is not a exhausted list, nor will everyone have all the same traits)

It is very hard to connect with someone who just automatically assumes a higher status to you just because of something you can't change. All the while the offender thinks what they are doing is actually a good thing. They are somehow helping you by just assuming they are better then you (which in the end, that's kinda what this is).

I have a few people in my life that I care for a lot, but they are not that much older then me yet they act like I can't possibly understand them and automatically shove this "child" label on my forhead.

And here is the thing, they will voluntarily bring up why they think this if you pay attention. It might be trauma they've dealt with, it might be that they have kids and you don't, age, or anything else like this. However I think it's important to note that I have friends who do not talk down to me and respect me as my own person with autonomy and also have these things going on in their life. So it's not like it's impossible to treat someone with respect and have these differences.

Now what do some of these subtle differences look like? There are many ways they can materialize but to name a few.

- Demanding the person solves a problem their way despite the person telling them why their circumstances do not allow that.

- assuming...well anything and all the time. These people have a tendency to think they know exactly what you are feeling and other such things and if you try to correct them then they will actually get upset at you or show some type of passive aggressiveness.

-Speaking on your behalf without asking permission

-never valuing your expertise on any subject. They are older/more mature then you, therefore to them they know more about everything. What's really fun (/s) about this is when they will explain to you, why you are wrong, by repeating what you said back at you.

- any reason why you can't do a thing, or why you need an aide is an excuse. You could do it if you *really* wanted to, but you are just being lazy. Now the real adult has to take up your burden.

- they do not/cannot listen to you. No matter what you say or how you say it, or if they even confirm what you say, there is always a part of them that is not listening. Or hell, they could of listened to you, but since what you say isn't important to them, they will quickly forget it and may even try and claim you never said anything to them.

- I'm not sure if this counts as infantilizing, but I notice that it happens a lot in tandem. While they think less of you and treat you like a child whose facts and opinions don't matter, all of this will change at a moment's notice when they need something from you...oddly enough something they probably normally do not take seriously from you on a normal day. Suddenly thrusting you with this burden of taking care of them even though they are never there for you in any meaningful actually helpful way most of the time. Like you will literally be demanded to stop what you are doing, and get over whatever you are going through to help them and their problem. I cannot explain how frustrating it is to be demanded to be the mature one while most of the time being denied respect.

I could go on, but honestly if I sat here and thought of every single tiny thing they do to make sure there is distance between you and them up on their self made pedestals, I'd be here all day.

The worst part on all of this is that I have no idea how to resolve it. People who do this are not inherently bad people, hell they might not even realize they do it. But this can actually make it more difficult to bring to their attention. I have tried many ways and many different times to resolve this, but I haven't been successful yet. Anyone who has corrected themselves were people who just had a little mess up but still obviously viewed me as a person from the start.

These subtle ways someone can dehumanize you, it can cause terrible rifts and of course the other person never understands why (see point above about not listening)

I am writing this as a autistic person, but I know there are others who go through this. Please check the ways you create artificial authority over someone.

Edit: someone reblogged this with hashtags about how we shouldn't do this to children either and I completely agree, I was using the term because it's the one often used to explain these things. Adding the edit cause I have no idea how to respond to the hashtag thing and I think it's a important thing to note.

[just4koo]

Hii! How are you doing? Can you please write hurt to comfort with Jungkook, when he walks out to cool off after an argument and Y/n thinks he left her? :)

i'm doing well, i hope you are too! i kinda got carried away on this request and wrote a lott of angst haha... (it hurt my heart)

never go to sleep angry - jjk.

summary: one of the most important rules of your relationship was to never go to sleep angry. when the rule was ignored, it led to an argument and a huge misunderstanding.

word count: 5.0k

genre/warnings: established relationship, a lot of angst, comfort, misinterpreting words, argument between them, y/n feels really shitty, mutual confusion, cute ending though

-- ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ --

There was one rule that you and Jungkook always had set up in your relationship. It was one of the reasons that you two were able to stay together for so long. How you had gotten through so many tough times, arguments, and disagreements. One thing that you two agreed on for the past 4 years you had been together.

Never go to sleep angry.

Even though it seems like something that may not matter too much, it had always worked for you two. Being in a relationship meant disagreeing on things. Relationships could be hard, but loving Jungkook was always easy. He made all of the hard times worth it. There weren't many things the two of you fully argued about because of this one rule. Communication was key in your relationship, and the two of you were always able to deescalate the situations so they wouldn't blow up.

It was the rule until now, it seemed.

If you had realized the way that you were making your boyfriend feel, it could've turned out so different. He hadn't spoke up about it because he knew how stressed you were. Later hours at a job meant that you didn't have time for the things you used to. After covid wiped through the world, your company had taken a huge hit. Budget cuts meant people being laid off of their jobs, and the ones that weren't fired got their work loads doubled, or even tripled.

Your job was a work at home -- returning late from work hadn't been the problem. Even if it was, Jungkook knew. He understood how consuming work could be, but he had been working crazy hours everyday since he was 13. He knew how his schedule worked and how to arrange things to make time between the two of you. This workload was new for you, and so he didn't get angry when you were stuck to your laptop for hours after your scheduled workday ended.

It was more of the way you dealt with the stress that got to him. Being stressed meant that you had been getting more irritable. If he tried talking to you when you were working, he was met with a dry "mhm" or a short look that told him you weren't interested. If he tried actually getting your attention, he would just receive snippy answers. He was trying to be understanding, but that also meant ignoring the most important rule of your relationship. Just like you tried to prevent, everything blew up.

"I've just been stressed out, Jungkook! I thought you said you understood!" You shouted at your boyfriend. What had turned into a simple conversation about him asking if you could spend your free day going on a date for the first time in a couple months had turned into this argument. You wanted to take the single free day off to rest your fingers from typing until your fingers locked up, he finally felt the festering irritation out, and it wasn't turning out pretty.

"I do understand, _____! If anyone does, it's me! You've been thinking about yourself this whole time! I try to be nice, I try to be understanding. You just shut me out! Just because you're stressed out or having a hard time doesn't mean you're allowed to treat me this shitty!" You were almost speechless as you listened to him vent to you about his feelings. You had been trying to justify yourself, but the longer this argument continued, the more you realized how you had been treating him.

"I tried so hard. You only try to push me away now. I've always had draining schedules, but I never took it out on you. I knew that this whole thing was new for you, I gave you time to adjust. But I just can't stand this anymore!" Jungkook groaned, putting his face in his hands. You had become ignorant about how your boyfriend felt, trying too hard to explain why you were treating him this way. He had enough of this. You were angry right now, and anger led to you being irrational.

He knew that he needed to get out of the house before the two of you said anything else you regretted. He didn't want the two of you to be blinded by anger and the best thing to do was to cool down. He tried to take in a deep breath as he turned around to walk towards the coat rack. You watched in disbelief as he started to put on his coat and lace up his shoes. Was he really walking out on the argument?

"Are you serious right now!? You started this argument, and now you're just trying to walk away from it?!" You accused him, crossing your arms over your chest. All Jungkook did was shake his head to himself. If you wanted to be petty, then it was only fair for him to do the same. He wasn't going to let himself be a personal punching bag anymore.

"You're right, I am walking away. I can't do this, ______. Get your shit together." You only scoffed at what he said, rolling your eyes in annoyance. Too consumed by your own pride, you didn't say anything as he left, didn't try to stop him. If he wanted to walk out, that was his problem. You felt like you had an excuse for the way you had been. You hadn't even realized how badly your treatment had gotten.

You spent most of the day grouchy now, too sidetracked to focus on your work. The argument happened pretty early in the afternoon, meaning you got most of the day to think about it. You knew he was going to come back before it was bedtime, or at least you thought you knew. Because it had been the most important rule, right? So you spent the whole day trying to formulate an argument to use against him.

The longer you thought about it though, the more uneasy you felt about the situation. It was growing later and later with every passing minute, and there was no sign of your boyfriend. No text or call, no jingling of his keys in the doorway, not even a text from his brother asking what had happened. Him and his brother were very close. He was usually the person Jungkook went to whenever you got into arguments, and his brother had even helped the two of you. He always texted when Jungkook showed up at his place, but there were no notifications.

You had already taken your nightly shower and was sitting on the bed in silence, huffing to yourself. He was being too petty, you thought. Why couldn't he just understand that you were busy? He was one of the busiest people in the world after all, he should be understanding that you didn't have hours of the day to dedicate to your relationship anymore like you used to be able to do.

While stuck in your thoughts, you sort of froze. He was one of the busiest people in the world. He had countless shoots for music videos, songs, magazines, variety shows. Your boyfriend was a member of one of the most renowned music bands. He spent almost everyday practicing and even spent nights in the studio trying to perfect things. If anyone knew what it was like to live a busy life, it would be him. You'd seen how busy his schedules, how full they were. He had something almost everyday. 

Yet he still made time for you.

You recounted all the times he had come home tired from work or exhausted from a performance. The days he returned with a frustrated or irritated expression from something that happened at work. Not one of those times did he ever take it out on you. He never let things that happened outside your relationship affect how he treated you. Before covid happened, he would be gone even more. Even though he had more time after the pandemic, things were getting back into motion.

He shared how overwhelmed he had been with everything. 2020 had been a break that he didn't even know he needed. He loved his fans, loved his band. But even then, he was still human. Not a machine that could work and be pushed through his schedules. When everything shut down, it meant him also being locked in his house and quarantined from everything. Now that there had been vaccinations and the urgency of the virus had died down, he was thrown right back into everything he had gotten used to being away from.

He had an album releasing soon, and it was taking a lot from him to get back into the flow of things. But he never blamed you for it. Before your job had you working crazy hours, he never got angry whenever you called him during his practices or came to surprise him at his workplace, taking away from his rehearsal time. Because it wasn't your fault for wanting to spend time with him or see him.

A pit was beginning to form in your stomach as you stared down at your lap. All of those times where you interrupted him from his work, you never realized how frustrating it could feel. Not until now when you were also working hard to produce quality work. You thought about all of the times he might've been irritated because he was trying to practice or so close to getting something right, and you came to stop him.

Yet every time he saw you, he was so excited and treated you with love. Even if you were distracting him from his job of performing in front of millions, even billions. Yet you had been doing the exact opposite. You were blaming him for wanting to spend time with you. Mad at him just because he wanted some time with his girlfriend. Fuck, you had been an idiot. Created an unnecessary argument just because you forgot to appreciate him.

You immediately reached for your phone, pressing the contact at the top of your favorites list. It was late now, almost 9pm, and you were worried. You wanted to at least see when he was coming home so you could be sure to stay up until then. You wanted to follow through with your number one rule and wait for him. You wanted to be waiting by the door when he came through to apologize to him.

Frowning when the call immediately went to voicemail, you were almost sent into a stupor. He always answered your calls, no matter what. It was strange for the phone go straight into voicemail, because in his car he always had a phone charger. One quick glance out of your window was the confirmation you needed, he did take his car. 

He had his charger with him. Did that mean he was ignoring your calls then? The phone didn't even ring before it went to voicemail, quicker than any person could decline a call. You weren't someone who worried too easily, but whenever something didn't feel right it made you extremely anxious. This was one of those moments right now. There was something off about the whole situation and you didn't know.

You tried his phone at least two more times, and the same thing happened. Not even a single ring. Every time you were met with the voicemail the two of you had recorded together a couple years ago, the giggling one you recorded with him saying that if he wasn't answering the call, he was probably too busy with his beautiful girlfriend. Your heart hurt when you heard that. How much things had changed scared you.

You went to text him, sending a few messages asking if he was okay. You stared down at the notice that the message had failed to send, the frown in your face getting even deeper. You went back into your contacts app, calling his brother instead. To your short relief, the phone was ringing. But after a few long rings, the phone also went to voicemail. You felt the urge to throw your phone at the wall but instead just cursed under your breath.

You weren't even sure how slow or fast the time was passing right now. All you could do was blankly stare down at your phone, hoping for a call. Had the argument been that bad? Was he really not going to come home after 4 years of sticking to that rule? The clock was nearing 12AM now and you were fidgeting nervously. Going over the argument over and over in your mind again. One particular line suddenly caught your attention.

"You're right, I am walking away. I can't do this, ______."

Your heart practically dropped as you remembered that. It was something you overlooked in the moment because you had been so angry with him, so consumed by your own pride. Those were words he never said to you. Sure, he had left the house a few times to cool down when arguments got too heated. But he would always leave with a reminder that he would be back before dark, that he was going to his brother's house.

Did you really ruin the relationship? All because you had been too focused on your work? You could feel your heart beginning to pound in your chest. He told you that he was walking away from you, that he wasn't going to do this anymore. This, as in the relationship? And you didn't do a thing to stop him when he left. You were so stupid.

Now all of the worst thoughts were going through your mind. Any rationality was leaving you. The calls weren't going through still. Had he blocked you? That was the only conclusion you were believing at the moment. You had been treating him like he was a nuisance for the past few months even though he had always been nothing but loving towards you no matter how crazy his schedule became.

You had been ignoring him whenever he wanted to do something with you or tell him something that had happened during his work. You had taken the small amount of free days you got and spent time relaxing and focusing on yourself rather than spending time with the person you loved more than anything, the person who loved you more than anything. You forgot that a relationship was about loving someone even through hard times.

Any hope you had for yourself was draining as you dug yourself into an even deeper hole. You were someone who worried a lot, but it was something that Jungkook had always helped you work out. Without him here, the problems were coming right back. Especially because this was about him. You had been an asshole of a girlfriend and he had enough. He left, walked out, and blocked you.

All of the years in your relationship felt like they were coming back at once. All of the years you spent together. Loving each other unconditionally. You comforting him whenever he was anxious and insecure, him surprising you with date nights or coming home from trips early to spend time with you. Spending his free days surprising him with things like his favorite dinner. You guys argued as well, but it was what happened in any healthy relationship.

This didn't feel like an argument anymore. Usually they would be resolved, this just felt like the end. You were a shitty girlfriend and he could probably find anyone much better. There were so many girls out there who admired him like a god, who would treat him as such. Girls who didn't take who they got for granted until it was too late and they had already gone.

He left. He was really gone. Those words kept repeating in your mind, and yet it felt like everything was a dream. It felt like you couldn't breathe at the moment. You were the reason this happened. The panic attack was coming quicker than you could stop it, and it was hitting at full force. The clock read 2AM by now. You had been sitting in the bed since 8PM waiting for him to walk into the bedroom. He wasn't coming.

Your whole world was crashing in on itself. Tears were welling up inside your eyes as you laid back on the bed, not feeling enough strength to hold yourself upright again. As you laid down on the bed, you were greeted with the smell of your boyfriend. Was he even your boyfriend anymore? His scent flooded your senses, the familiar smell you'd grown to love so much over the years. It was your breaking point.

With shaky hands you grabbed the blanket, hugging it to your body as the sobs started. Your whole body was trembling with them, curled up as you tried desperately to grasp onto what you felt like was the last of your relationship. The only thought in your mind was that all of this was your fault. Like the ignorant person you were, you lost the most important person to you.

You felt like you would do anything to fix this. To just get one more chance to see him. You would beg at your knees if you needed. Anything to promise him that you would be a better girlfriend to him. But he wasn't going to give you another chance. You only realized now how insignificant your work seemed when he left you. You'd been too distracted by your work that you forgot about the one thing that was more important.

You wanted to do so many things. Scream, throw your laptop at the wall, go out and look for him. But you just couldn't. The realization you felt, the pit in your stomach, the overwhelming sense of guilt. It was all too much for you to move a single limb. You felt overly nauseous, like you would throw up if you moved. 

You weren't someone that was completely dependent on Jungkook. You didn't need him to go about your day correctly. You could spend time apart with him. It was something you actually got used to with him going off on tours. But at this moment, it felt like your world was caving in on you. He was the one person who was always there for you no matter what, and now you had to come to terms with that changing. You sobbed even harder as you realized that.

This was the state that Jungkook saw as he walked back into the house. He knew that he had been gone for a long time, well over 12 hours. He had been cooling off by himself. He didn't even know how long he'd been out. His brother had been gone on vacation, meaning that he didn't have a place to go to. He didn't want to bother his bandmates with his relationship problems, so he could only think of one thing.

He spent the whole day hiking. One of the things he had done as a child growing up in Busan, it was something that helped him clear his mind. He drove a couple hours to the mountains and spend a big majority of the day in the nature. He had no service when he was out there, which helped him refrain from calling you before he had the opportunity to sort out his thoughts.

It had been well past nightfall when he got back down the mountain and he hadn't even realized how late it was. Not until he gained his signal back after he spent even longer at the small village by the bottom of the mountain. He had spent quite a while speaking to some of the elders that he lost track of time and saw it was nearly midnight. He had quickly said goodbye and promised to visit again before leaving.

It was only when he had gotten back onto the main highway that his signal returned and the notifications flooded his phone. He frowned as he looked at all of the missed calls from you, the worried texts. Your most recent one was the most concerning one, one that you had sent just twenty minutes prior.

"i'm sorry i was so shitty. i can pack all of my stuff and be gone in the morning."

He was confused as to why you were texting him that. Why were you packing your stuff and talking about leaving? He tried to call you multiple times, but none of the calls picked up. His own panic was building up as he stepped on the gas, speeding more than he would've liked to admit. It was a two hour drive back and right now he was cursing himself for picking a place so far away. 

You usually never called or texted him when you were separated to cool down from arguments, so he knew that something was different this time. He couldn't think of what was different this time, what had happened that led to you saying that you would be packing up to leave. Was he too harsh on you? Should he have just pushed the problem off even more?

You didn't even register the sound of the door opening, too consumed by your grief. Jungkook had rushed into the apartment, looking around for you. He checked the living room first, and then went straight to the bedroom. He stopped completely in his tracks when he saw you. Curled up on the bed into a ball, clutching your shared blanket to your chest, shaking with quiet and violent sobs.

For a few moments he could do nothing but stare at the sight. Wondering if he really had been too hard on you. He didn't think that his words were too harsh when he was saying them. He had only been speaking his feelings. But as he watched you right now, he felt his heart shattering. He never wanted this. He regretted ever saying anything.

You jumped as you felt a hand lay on your shoulder. Your eyes were swollen from all of your crying, you could barely make out the sight of Jungkook knelt down beside you, frowning with immense concern. You almost couldn't believe that he was right in front of you. Your sobs died down a bit as the two of you stared. You were the first one to break down.

"J-Jungkook, I'm so sorry. I was too consumed with my work and I didn't realize how shitty I treated you. You were right. You've always been so busy with work and you never treated me the way I treated you. I was so stressed by my job that I let it out on you. I was such a bad girlfriend, and I understand why you don't want to be with me anymore. I'm just sorry I didn't notice how bad I was." The way you spoke with small sniffles almost broke his heart and distracted him from what you said.

After he processed his words, his frown only deepened. Why were you speaking to him like this? Saying that you would pack all of your stuff, that he didn't want to be with you anymore, that you were a bad girlfriend? All of his anger was completely gone now and at the moment he just felt extremely confused along with distraught from how destroyed you looked.

"Baby, what are you talking about? Why are you saying all of this?" Jungkook asked with pure bewilderment in his tone. This made you look back at him with an equally confused expression. You weren't expecting this response from him. He seemed like he genuinely didn't know what you were talking about and it made you question everything.

"But.. you blocked me. You said that.. that you couldn't do this and were walking away?" You questioned, your voice cracking with how weak it was after sobbing. Jungkook tilted his head a bit as he tried to recall when he ever said that. After going through the argument in his head, the realization hit him. His eyes widened as he recalled what he said in the heat of the moment. He hadn't clarified what he meant and you had been left alone for however many hours thinking that he had ended the relationship.

"______, I know how those words seemed, but that's not at all what I meant. I was saying that I couldn't do the argument, not the relationship. I would never end things off. I only said I was walking away so I could cool off." Jungkook explained as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Not at all irritated by you, but instead angry at himself. He had only said what he was feeling in the heat of the moment and left.

"What about your phone..? None of my calls went through." You asked him, your voice still full with hurt and doubt. He felt terrible for even making you think for a moment that he wanted to end the relationship. Even though he had been pissed off, he would never end the relationship like that in the heat of the moment. Even enraged he knew it would be the worst mistake he would ever make.

"I went to the mountains to hike and get everything off my mind. My brother is on vacation so that's why I didn't go to him. The place I went had no service and so none of the calls or texts could've gotten through." He told you, and your eyes slightly widened. He was really telling the truth? He didn't want to break up with you? At this point you just felt like you had fallen asleep and this was all a dream.

To confirm this was real, you couldn't hold yourself back anymore and reached out for him, and he wasted no time. He sat down on the bed next to you and pulled you right into his arms. Your body froze as you felt his familiar warmth, smelled his scent with the addition of the smell of nature he'd been around all day. This was real. He wasn't leaving you.

The tears instantly started falling from your eyes, but it was different this time. It was relief. You spent so long crying because you thought he had broken up with you, but it all ended up being a misunderstanding. He wasn't leaving you and you had nothing to worry about. In the past 12 hours it felt like your life had completely ended, but it hadn't.

Jungkook held you closely to him, his fingers carding through your slightly tangled hair while his other hand rubbed small circles into your back. He rested his head on the top of yours, knowing that it was better for you to just get all of your feelings out. Even though nothing made him feel worse than knowing he was the reason that you were crying like this, it was better for you to just let it all out so it didn't bottle up. He had been doing that for the past few months and it turned out like this.

You didn't know how long you had been laying like that in his arms, but when you were finally able to stop crying, you noticed the beginnings of light peeking through the windows. The whole time Jungkook was there for you, whispering sweet things to help you calm down. How much he loved you, how he wasn't going to leave you, that he wasn't angry with you. Anything he could think of to help you calm down.

When you finally had a level enough mind to fully process everything, you felt so much relief. But you still felt the same guilt from before. You were the one that disregarded what he felt and now he was comforting you after an argument that was your fault. You needed to say something to him, to apologize and promise that you would be better. There was no way that you were ever going to let your work consume you again.

"I know I already said this, but I want to say that I'm so sorry. I was so stressed out with my new hours that I got angry and irritated whenever you just wanted to spend time with me. I never should've done that and I realize now how much I took you for granted. You've always made the time for me and I should've done the same for you. I know now how wrong and unfair I was being to you, and I want to be better." You said to him, your voice filled with regret.

Jungkook smiled lightly when he heard your apology. There was no longer any anger in his eyes. No resentment. To him, that was all in the past now. He could hear the sincerity in every word you said. After all, this was the reason that he had started dating you. You were so sweet and considerate towards others. You just needed to realize what you were doing wrong. You were distracted and didn't know you were bring rude.

"It's okay, my love. I know how stressful it's been for you and I'm not angry anymore. I understand how you feel and I accept your apology. I know you didn't realize how you were treating me." Jungkook replied, putting his fingers under your chin so he could tilt your head up to look at him. Even with your red, puffy eyes and runny nose you were so beautiful to him. He gently kissed the tip of your nose before resting his forehead against yours.

"I love you so much. Thank you for always being the best." You mumbled, closing your eyes as you took the time to let yourself bask in the moment. Letting go of all doubts that you felt previously. There was no reason to dwell on this argument, because you knew that you wouldn't make this mistake anymore going on.

"I love you too, always. No matter what happens." Jungkook replied with a bit of reassurance in his tone. You smiled as he said those words to you, leaning forward to close the small gap between the two of you. You were fully calmed down as your lips met and any thoughts that you had melted away in the moment. Everything was okay in this moment. 

Even though this argument had been rough, the two of you had stuck to your most important rule. The two of you went to sleep shortly afterwards, no more feelings of anger or resentment. You would never go to bed angry anymore, realizing just how important that rule was.

[fyorina]

ᡣ𐭩 ICARION

FEATURING: beast dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai had known he was flying too close to the sun, he should have stopped himself while he still had the chance. {wordcount: 11.5k; fem!reader, romance & tragedy}

AUTHOR'S NOTES: installment fiveeeee otherwise known as part 2 of installment four LOL! ugh guys i'm dragging myself thru the trenches right now i'm so miserable - i wasn't even up to posting this today i won't lie but </3 i pulled thru </3 if only barely. fun fact this is actually only a 3 scene chapter but the second scene is just MASSIVE. i wasn't up to restructuring so you guys are just going to get it as it is. this is also unedited because i just wasn't up to it so bear with me regarding mistakes. JUST TO REMIND YOU ALL: the last installment is DELAYED - i have 3 finals next week and haven't had the time to finish it. it will be up by the end of may </3 sorry guys. wow this actually is attempt number three trying to post this correctly - i'm so shot

IMPORTANT NOTE FOR 17 & UNDER FOLLOWING THE SERIES: partially copy and pasted from badlands - if you guys read badlands, you know the deal. y'all knew what you were getting into. this is the smut chapter. but again, i'm not going to ask y'all to not interact/read a whole 12k chapter just because there's 4k words of smut, but i am going to say here the smut is in the SECOND scene. there is very little plot development in the smut itself, so i ask you guys, again, to respectfully scroll past it. i'll make the sentence when the smut starts red like this so you know that's when it starts, and then you can continue reading at the next divider. thank you for understanding! there is NO plot development in the smut, i'll reiterate that at the end where i put the summary in badlands, i restructured to make sure none of it was in it.

SMUT WARNINGS: unprotected sex, dazai cries </3 poor baby, sub!dazai, as always pussy drunk!dazai, bit of overstim on dazai's part too, jfhsuhdfsu i will say it starts on the bathroom floor so that might be a bit gross to some of you but dazai hardly even uses his apartment anyway so trust it's clean. bear with me. it just flowed from there i had to go with it. the story writes itself, i'm only the scribe. LOL let me know if i missed anything, i might have

SEE: UNREAL UNEARTH SERIES MASTERLIST READ: BADLANDS SIDE A

Dazai is hardly listening to the conversation at hand. They’ve been going back and forth for thirty minutes about inconsequential matters. Tolstoy is getting increasingly heated as he goes tit-for-tat with Nabokov, evidently the tripartite alliance between the Russian mafias is not quite enough to quell all of the bad blood that’s simmered between them, but something about the situation isn’t sitting right to Dazai. He can feel it in his gut, swirling in the depths of his chest—something is wrong but he doesn’t know what.

Mishima looks equally put out, gaze trained on Tolstoy and Nabokov’s conversation, occasionally looking back at his executives. Cao seems bored, head tilted back against the red cushions of the round booth as he smokes a cigarette; in all regards, he seems relaxed, but Dazai notices the way the fingers of his free hand are tense on the table, as if he’s bracing himself for something.

Something isn’t right.

Dostoevsky is cunning. Intelligent. He’s been lethally sharp in every universe that the other Dazais have encountered him in. He wouldn’t send Tolstoy and Nabokov into this meeting with them at each other’s throats like this without an ulterior reason. Dazai is missing something critical; he knows it’s not something as simple as wanting to give off the appearance of a divided front as means to get Dazai and Mishima to lower their guard. Nothing is that easy. There’s some ulterior motive that Dazai has to figure out.

Cao’s presence. Tolstoy and Nabokov’s blatant hostility toward one another. Mishima’s words from earlier, warning him that something seems to be brewing, that Tolstoy and Nabokov had been on edge since he arrived at the event hall. Dazai’s head hurts, and he can’t focus, not when you’re in the other room without him.

Already, he feels as if he’s been separated from you for too long, he’d been hoping this meeting was only going to last thirty minutes at most, and it’s been thirty minutes already and hardly any progress has been made. If Dazai didn’t know any better, he’d think that…

He’d think that Tolstoy and Nabokov were stalling.

At once, Dazai starts catching onto the things that he missed. The way Nabokov keeps glancing up at the clock on the wall above Cao. The way Tolstoy’s gaze keeps flickering to his phone. The way Cao’s attention seems to be elsewhere. 

Cao Xueqin. A Dream of Red Mansions. A scrying ability.

His heartbeat slows and Dazai blinks. Once. Twice. Blood roars in his ears as his gaze twists down to where his phone is laying on the table in front of him, on its face. Tachihara should have texted him to let him know that he got to you. Him or Chuuya. He usually reports to Chuuya anyway, so Dazai figured that Chuuya would’ve gotten the confirmation. He turns his head to the side to look at the executive from the corner of his eye, trying to keep his breath as slow and steady and natural as possible when he realizes that Chuuya is frowning with furrowed brows, looking at his phone. Unsure.

Dazia reaches for his own phone, fingers deceptively steady despite the way his insides are curdling with a sudden jolt of anxiety. His eyes zero in on the top right corner of his phone. No signal. Dazai has been to this event hall countless times in this life and dozens of others—there’s always service throughout the building. 

Unless it’s being jammed, that is.

Dazai’s blood runs cold, gaze dragging from his phone to the door that leads to the hallway connecting to the event hall where you are. He feels as if he’s been doused with icy water and lit on fire all at once. For a second, he doesn’t move—he’s not sure if it’s anxiety or fear, or both, but he knows it’s because you’re out there and Dostoevsky is plotting something while trying to keep him out of the picture in this meeting. 

He should have known better. Mishima had assumed that Dostoevsky wasn’t in the building—he had his three best scouts prowling the whole building trying to place the real leader of the tripartite but had failed. Nabokov had apparently told him that Dostoevsky had to stay back to handle residual business in Russia, a blatant lie, one that has had Mishima on edge all night.

The one with the overcoat. The clown.

Dazai stills as he remembers the white haired man who hung around Dostoevsky in some of the other universes. Not all of the other Dazais encountered him—in fact, Dazai thinks there were only half a dozen other universes where he met the man, he can hardly remember his name, but when he did…

Spatial linking. Of course Mishima’s men hadn’t been able to hunt down Dostoevsky. Dostoevsky would’ve predicted that the Sun and Steel would seek out the mastermind with their scouts. He used the clown to enter the building without anyone knowing after the scouts finished their hunt.

Dazai had missed a critical piece on the board.

Dazai rises to his feet abruptly, mind numb, eyes distant, and lips parted to speak but no words escape them. Tolstoy and Nabokov exchange a sharp, pointed look, pausing in their hostilities, and Dazai knows. He knows.

Dostoevsky is going after you. 

He hears Chuuya and Kouyou calling after him but it sounds like a distant buzz. His throat feels clogged, his heartbeat is erratic and uncontrollable, his ears are ringing. His surroundings are blurry, a part of him doesn’t even know where he is: the event hall, your apartment, in the cafe below the Armed Detective Agency, it’s all blurring together.

This is it.

His vision swims and his head spins. The hallway seems impossibly long, much longer than it was to walk to the room. He can hear Chuuya spitting curses, scrambling out of the room, and he’s sure that his other executives and the other mafiosos aren’t far behind, but Dazai’s mind is on a single track. He doesn’t know how fast he’s moving—fast enough that Chuuya is chasing after him but can’t catch him. Something is heavy and cool in his hand—his gun—numb fingers moving to click the safety off.

This is it.

He might enter that hall and find you dead, slumped over the bar he’d last seen you sitting at, blood splattered across your face. Limp, cold. Just like you were on your bedroom floor. In the booth at the cafe. He’s pulling you from the water. He’s screaming for Yosano when he’s with the Agency. He’s screaming for Mori when he’s with the Mafia. Sometimes he’s alone, and he has no one to call for help, so all he can do is hold you and cry. 

It’s his fault. He knew this would happen from the beginning. He knew that being with you would lead you to the same fate that you’ve met in every other universe because of him. He knew that being with you would be your death sentence, but he couldn’t stop himself. 

His vision swims again, the red and gold patterns on the walls of the event hall are indistinct blobs, he feels someone try to grab his wrist—Chuuya, probably—but Dazai rips himself free and pushes himself into the event hall.

He ignores the eyes on him and the way people all instinctively move away from the sight of him with his gun out, he’s sure he must look deranged but he’s hardly even keeping himself grounded to this reality. Pages pile around him, every single one has variations of the same scene that’s haunted him for almost eight years written on it; one is being written before his eyes, he can see the words appearing on the blank sheet. He needs to find you before it’s complete. He has to stop it.

His eyes cut across the room, toward the bar he’d last seen you at, and you’re there. You’re there. It’s almost enough to make him scramble to put his gun away, cover up his steep spiral of paranoia even if you are looking right in his direction and see the gun in his hand. He can hardly come to terms with the consequences of this, how you’re seeing him right now, because his gaze tunnels right in on the person sitting next to you and his world comes to a halt. 

He lifts the gun. He ignores as people shriek and scramble to the edges of the room. He ignores the look on your face as he moves closer to where you’re sitting with Fyodor Dostoevsky. He ignores the way Chuuya and Kouyou and Piano Man have all skid to a stop somewhere behind him, trying to figure out what to do. Dostoevsky’s hand is mere inches away from brushing against your body, it would only take the slightest movement and you would be dead. It would be a game of who’s faster: Dazai’s trigger finger or Dostoevsky’s ability. Dazai’s always been quick to pull the trigger but now, faced with your life on the line, when he should be at his best because of what’s at risk, he finds himself scared and unsteady. 

He can’t lose you. He can’t watch it happen.

He paces toward you slowly, steadily, he swears each step he takes echoes across the suddenly silent event hall. He doesn’t stop until the muzzle of his gun is pressed against the back of Dostoevsky’s head.

“Stand up.” Dazai’s voice is deceptively cold and steady for the rage and fear that’s clawing at his chest, threatening to take control.

Dostoevsky turns his head to the side to look at Dazai, faint amusement in his eyes. “Are you sure you really want to do this here, Dazai?” 

The mocking lilt his voice takes is almost enough alone for Dazai to pull the trigger. And if that wasn’t, the way Dostoevsky smiles at Dazai like he’s won is certainly enough to push him over the edge.

Before he can, he feels Chuuya grab his bicep hard. 

“You can’t do this here,” he hisses quietly. “If you kill him now on neutral territory, we’ll have all of the mafias in the Eastern Hemisphere coming after you and the government on your ass. You can’t do this here and you can’t do it in public.”

Dazai doesn’t care. He doesn’t care how many mafias come after him for killing on neutral territory when invited as a guest. He doesn’t care that the government will come after him for such a blatant murder. All he cares about is getting Dostoevsky away from you.

“Chuuya is right,” Kouyou murmurs, low enough for only Dazai to overhear. “We can cover this up as is. If you pull the trigger, there’s no hiding what happened here. You know better than this, boy. You won’t be the only person this affects if you do this. Think of her. She will be implicated for coming here with you. Lower the gun and let us handle sweeping this under the rug.”

Dazai can’t even bring himself to look at you. He’s scared of what he might find. But he doesn’t even consider lowering the gun, not until Dostoevsky raises his hands and slips off the bar stool to step away from you. Even when he does, Dazai keeps it trained on him, still tempted to blow his head right off his shoulders.

“I meant no harm,” Dostoevsky says smoothly. “I was intrigued, wanted to know the girl who’s managed to capture your interest. I must say, I see the appeal. Beautiful and intelligent, you have quite the eye, Dazai.”

Dazai’s lips stretch into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s not kind, and it’s mildly feral, and Dazai’s pretty sure he must look entirely deranged from the way Dostoevsky’s eyes widen in a mixture of surprise and entertainment, just enough to be noticeable.

“If you ever go near her again, I’ll put a bullet through your fucking skull, Dostoevsky.”

He should do it now. He should. Fuck Chuuya and Kouyou’s warnings, he should put a bullet in his head and be done with it, move onto handling Christie so that both of the major threats to your life are gone. But he can’t. If he takes this opportunity now, if he kills Dostoevsky so blatantly on neutral territory, the Pale Flame and Three Deaths will come at him in full force, and Dazai is sure the Red Chamber won’t be far behind them with Cao’s recent interest in expanding his business into Japan. And you’ll be caught in the crossfire of all of it, Dazai has ensured that by bringing you here. Dostoevsky must have accounted for all of this. He knew that Dazai would be put in a situation where either way, whether he kills him or lets him go, he’d be throwing himself onto a blade. 

Is that it? Killing you wasn’t the goal, was it? Exposing Dazai was. Forcing him into this impossible decision.

Did he really just fall into Dostoevsky’s hands so easily? Even with all of the forewarning the other universes have given him?

It’s you. You always make him reckless, his mind is never as sharp whenever you’re involved, muddled with thoughts of you, plagued with spirals of paranoia and anxiety that make him double guess himself. It’s like this in every universe—he becomes stupid, he becomes rash, he becomes careless. It’s you.

You.

Suddenly very hyper aware of your eyes on him, Dazai lowers his gun, gaze turning in your direction. Dostoevsky lets out one last snide comment, something toward you, telling you ‘don’t you see’ but Dazai doesn’t even process it, heart in his throat as he looks at you. He doesn’t know what he expects—fear, betrayal, even anger. He’s not prepared for the emptiness. He can’t read a single emotion on your face, your eyes eerily void of any feeling as you stare at him. 

He says your name quietly. His voice cracks. He should be embarrassed, so many people watching the scene play out, so many of his enemies and allies and subordinates, and he’s staring at you like a lost child with an unsteady voice, but he can’t bring himself to care. The fingers of his free hand are trembling, and the ones wrapped around the grip of his gun are so wound so tight that his knuckles are white. 

You’ve never looked at him like this before. Not in any universe. 

He thinks he might throw up. 

You’ve been mad at him before, scowling at him whenever he distracts you from your work and snarling whenever he makes messes that he never cleans up, but your eyes always stay soft in spite of the venom you spit. He’s seen betrayal on your face a few times before, screaming at him through tears when he got a bit too close to a successful attempt, cursing at him for trying to leave you, but you hold him so gently that it makes up for the harsh words. You’ve been scared of him once, when he lashed out so badly during one of his slumps that he nearly hurt you, but even then, you were more concerned for him then you were scared for yourself, speaking to him softly to settle him down.

He’s never seen this. He wants it to go away. Desperately.

“I’d like to leave,” you finally say after a few moments of silence, and your voice is so vacant of emotion that it leaves him feeling even more sick.

Dazai nods, because he can’t bring himself to speak. 

He holds his hand out for you, waiting for you to take it.

You don’t.

You haven’t spoken a word since the event hall, and Dazai doesn’t know what to do. He used to find peace in silence—for years, he’d become accustomed to it, isolating himself from everyone around him, keeping everyone at arm’s length. The most he ever spoke was a few sentences to give out orders to his executives; his voice had become hoarse and raspy over the years of self-imposed isolation, unused to being utilized. But the past few months with you have utterly obliterated any semblance of comfort Dazai had found in solidarity. 

It’s become entirely intolerable, the silence is making him sick with anxiety; he has hundreds of lifetimes worth of memories with you and he can’t even vaguely predict what to expect from you right now. You’ve been tense and cold since leaving the event hall. Dazai tried to open up a conversation in the car once but found himself promptly ignored. Chuuya tried to say something to you but only received the same cold shoulder. Even Albatross tried to lighten the mood when the four of you got in the car, but all you did was stare out the window with your back to Dazai. 

Now, you’re back up in his penthouse with him. You haven’t sat down. You’ve hardly budged from where you’re standing near the elevator—Dazai wonders if you’re scared of him now, if you want to be as close as possible to the only exit in fear of him lashing out at you. The thought makes him even more nauseous.

He doesn’t even know what to do with himself. He doesn’t want to sit down, he’s uncomfortable standing in the living room, waiting for you to say something, and he can’t bring himself to try to break the silence because if there’s one thing he learned very swiftly, it’s that he can’t handle being ignored by you. He’d prefer anger and hate to the stonewall iciness you’re giving him.

He can’t even fathom what you might be thinking right now. You’re not looking at him. You’re staring at the window that looks over the city, he can see the bright flashing lights from Cosmo World flickering faintly in your eyes. It’s so quiet that he can hear the distant honking of horns, police sirens coming from the streets below. 

He just wants you to say something, do something. Yell at him. Scream at him. Hit him or punch him. Anything is better than this. 

It feels like an eternity before you finally move away from the elevator. You still don’t speak, but Dazai watches raptly as you make your way into the kitchen. You fling open the cabinets, searching for something, and Dazai’s lips part to ask what you’re looking for but he decides against it. You stop with your jerky movements when you catch sight of the numerous bottles of sake Dazai has stored in his cabinets—room temperature, because Dazai can’t stand cold drinks, they make his teeth hurt. He watches you struggle to uncap it and his body itches to move toward you to help but he knows it won’t do any good. It’ll probably just piss you off more.

When you get the cap off, you’re immediately bringing it to your lips. One. Two. Three. Four large gulps before you put the bottle back down on the counter and turn to look at him. The emptiness in your eyes is gone, replaced by something caught between hurt and anger and betrayal. It makes his heart sink, but he thinks it’s preferable to the emptiness.

“You lied to me,” you finally rasp out, shaking your head as you pace behind the counter. There’s a whole length of a room separating the two of you and Dazai longs for your touch but he forces himself to stuff his hands in his pockets and keep still. “You lied to me, Dazai.”

“Osamu,” he corrects quietly without thinking, not liking the switch up. He’d finally gotten you to call him by his given name earlier in the night, he doesn’t want to lose it so quickly.

For the briefest of seconds, the hurt and betrayal in your eyes disappears and only fire rages in them. “Dazai,” you spit out pointedly. 

Dazai almost draws back, not having expected that. In all of the other universes, you’ve always been gentle with him even when you’re livid. You speak his name softly, even with a tight jaw and fisted hands—his given name, you’ve never used his surname against him like this before. Probably because most of the major fights he had with you in those other lives, it was months into the relationship; it’s only been a few weeks in this life so of course-

Dazai realizes, a bit dizzy, that he’s about to lose you.

You found out too soon. You found out through Dostoevsky, through Dazai's own loss of control. You found out in the worst possible way and you found out too soon.

Dazai is about to lose you.

“Okay,” he murmurs, not wanting to test your temper anymore, giving in as a means to try to soothe your anger, regardless of how much it might wound him because being wounded is nothing compared to losing you. “Dazai.”

His compliance seems to do nothing to quell your anger from the way you just scoff and shake your head again, looking away from him. You stare out over the city, dozens of emotions cloud your expression but Dazai still can’t predict what you might do next. He feels out of his depth, in murky waters with an anchor tied to his ankle.

“I knew it, you know?” you finally say quietly. “I knew it from the beginning, honestly, but I kept making excuses for you. I mean, the guns. The secrecy. You weren’t really subtle about it. Did you think I was stupid, or something?” 

“Never,” Dazai says honestly, without hesitation. He sees your gaze flicker down to the ground at his words, but you don’t make any move to speak again so he takes the opportunity to, in hopes that you’ll finally listen. “You’re the smartest woman I know. I-”

You interrupt him with a sharp laugh, it’s loud and almost cruel, and Dazai turns in on himself at the sound of it. He feels small and unsteady, like a child who’s being scolded by a parent. When you look at him again, your eyes are wide and wild, half-crazed in sheer disbelief. You don’t believe him. Of course, you don’t. It’s plainly displayed on your face. And why would you anyway? He’s given you every reason not to. 

“If you think I’m so smart, why didn’t you think I would figure it out?”

He tries to say that he knew you would. That he’s been living in fear for weeks that you’d finally see him for what he is but when he opens his mouth to say it, no words leave him. Like he’s frozen in fear, ice crawling through his veins, stones weighing on his tongue; he can’t respond, and he knows that he’s only condemning himself more. He tries to force something out but he can’t even make the barest hint of a sound. The mindkiller. He’s never responded well to fear, much less when you’re involved. 

You click your tongue, as if to solidify that his silence proves your point, or maybe you know what he can't bring himself to say and you just don't believe him. His stomach churns again, and dread spreads through chest when you say: “If I’m so smart, and I was going to figure it out anyway, why didn’t you just tell me?”

“You would have left.” Dazai is finally able to speak, but he speaks the wrong answer, clearly, from the way you let out another humorless, breathless laugh, eyes wide in disbelief. You look at him like he’s the most audacious man in the entire world. Maybe he is.

“Yeah, I would have,” you agree and Dazai flinches. “Without hesitation, without even looking back. And now, I can’t because you made me fall in love with you without even warning me about what I was getting myself into.”

Dazai’s heart should be leaping through the roof at your confession, but if anything, he feels even worse. His throat feels clogged and his chest feels so heavy. You’ve never regretted falling in love with him before. Not in any lifetime.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out, because he doesn’t know what else to say. The words are still foreign on his tongue, he doesn’t think he’s ever apologized to someone in this life before the last twenty-four hours.

“No, you’re not,” you say bitterly, looking away. “Isn’t this what you wanted? For me to care so much about you that when you finally tell me who you are and what you do, I won’t be able to leave.”

Dazai stares at you, lost. He remembers how just the other day he was finding comfort in the way you could read him so easily, knowing he didn’t have to speak for you to know what he needed at the moment. He thinks he hates it now, because you’re finally reading deeper into his soul and seeing him for the sick, twisted monster he really is. Just like he feared from day one. Manipulative. Selfish. Undeserving. His fingers tremble in his pockets, nails biting into his palm so deep that he can feel blood trickling down his skin, but not even the stinging pain can distract him from the numbness spreading through him. 

“I didn’t-”

“Didn’t what?” you interrupt him. “You didn’t think I’d be upset? You didn’t think I’d be angry? Or maybe you didn’t think it would happen this soon? Is that it, Dazai? You thought you’d have more time to win me over in hopes that I’d take the news in stride. News flash, Dazai, no amount of time or charm would have made me accept this easily. Accept you easily. How could I ever accept any of this?”

Nausea rises to his throat so suddenly that he almost gags. He feels dizzy, taking a step back so that his back is against the wall, keeping him steady. Your last words echo through his head over and over again, he can’t escape them. The one person who’s always accepted him in every lifetime, the only person he was ever able to find a home in—how could I ever accept you? 

His cheeks feel wet, his eyes are wide as he stares at you. He doesn’t know how to respond to that. He doesn’t even think he could if he knew how to respond to that. His lungs are burning and his throat feels so swollen that even just the thought of trying to speak is painful. 

You let out a sharp breath, caught between a hysterical laugh and a sob as you press your hands to either side of your neck and pace across the kitchen. “What am I supposed to do, Dazai?” you ask, voice hoarse. “What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

He thinks it might be a rhetorical question, but he still forces out: “Don’t leave me.”

You scoff again, louder and harsher this time. Dazai’s eyes flutter shut as if to futilely minimize the blow. “I wish leaving you was still an option for me.”

Oh. He’s going to throw up. 

He wants to blame it on the alcohol he drank earlier in the night. He wants to blame it on the stress of the past few weeks. He wants to blame it on anything but this, even though he knows damn well that this conversation is what triggered the bile that rises to his throat. He forces himself to move, nearly tripping over his feet to get to the bathroom because he doesn’t want you to see him vomiting up his guts.

He hardly makes it to the toilet, crashing to his knees and clutching at the seat as he dry heaves. Nothing comes up—he hasn’t eaten enough the past few days to have anything solid in him, too busy with preparations—but he can’t stop gagging, eyes stinging with tears and throat burning. He doesn’t know how long he stays crumpled at the toilet, losing track of time entirely, a part of him just wants to stay there forever so he doesn’t have to go back out and face you. 

Evidently, he doesn’t have to go back out and face you because you come to him. 

He’s gagging again when he feels your hand brush his back, hesitantly at first and then firmly. Your touch is warm, and Dazai thinks he must look pathetic as he turns his head to the side to look at you. Your expression isn’t as harsh now, your eyes are still conflicted but your face is softer. After a moment, you take a seat on the floor next to him—you don’t say anything, but you let out a soft puff of air as you slip your arm around his shoulders once he stops heaving. 

He crumbles into your chest, body collapsing against yours. You wrap your arms around him, and at once, the numbness starts to fade away. His fingers clutch at your dress desperately, afraid that you’re going to disappear, but you only hold him tighter. You bury your face in his hair, forehead pressed to the top of his head.

“You’re so unfair, Osamu.” Your voice cracks, you’ve lost all of your fire, but Dazai finds no solace in it.

“I know,” he croaks out, throat scratchy and voice wavering. “I know.”

And then words are spilling from his lips before he can stop them, jumbled and hardly intelligible and he’s not even sure that you’re understanding what he’s saying but he can’t stop himself: “I tried. I tried to stay away, I tried so hard, you don’t understand. I knew it would turn out like this, I knew I would ruin you so I tried to stay away, but I’m selfish. I’m so selfish, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I knew better, I’m going to-you’re going to-”

The panic is returning, the words he wants to say but can’t push out are too damning: I’m going to get you killed. You’re going to die because of me. Dazai is breathing but the air isn’t getting to his lungs, his chest burns, and now even with your arms around him, the numbness is returning. It’s rapid now, spreading from his chest to his arms, down his abdomen to his legs; it’s going to consume him entirely, he can feel it, he can-

Oh.

Your lips press to his. Tilting his head back to angle his face up toward you, you lean down and press your lips against his, swallowing his words, his air, his panic. One of your hands cup his cheek while the other cradles the back of his head, Dazai can hardly kiss you back, his lips feel cold and prickly, but his eyes flutter shut as your lips move slowly and carefully against his.

Not for the first time, he thinks that he doesn’t deserve this. Especially not now. He tastes something wet and salty against his lips—he doesn’t know if you’re the one crying, or if he is, and he doesn’t want to know, so he forces himself to move. His arm feels heavy and clunky, and his fingers feel stiff, but he’s able to bring them up to your face, palms cupping your cheeks as the tips of his fingers tangle into your hair. He kisses you until his lungs are screaming for air, and even as he starts to feel lightheaded, he kisses you still, because your lips are the only thing able to push away the numbness overwhelming him. 

When you break away from him, you keep your foreheads pressed together, nose nudging against his. You share the same thin sliver of air and Dazai feels dizzy, he wants to kiss you again but he doesn’t think he’s capable of moving yet, so he only stays crumbled in your arms, waiting for you to grace him with your lips again. 

“I wish I still had the chance to be a better man,” Dazai says hoarsely, honestly, gaze searching yours desperately. “I would be. For you.”

Please believe me, he thinks to himself helplessly, because it’s the truth. He would try to be. For your sake. He might fail, he might be too far gone, his soul corrupted beyond salvation and his blood black beyond purification, but he would try. He would try so hard for you. But he can’t, not in this lifetime, not without risking everything he’s strove to protect since coming in contact with the Book. He has to stay the criminal, the monster, the demon so that you and Odasaku can live out your lives here. Until Dostoevsky, Christie, and any other person that could turn out to be a threat to either of you are killed, Dazai has to keep playing this role. He has to. 

You don’t respond. Dazai thinks it’s because you don’t believe him and it makes him feel sick again. His lips part to repeat himself but you only press yours against his, as if to silence him. 

You don’t believe him, the kiss confirms it, and his heart sinks but he can’t even bring himself to protest, to insist that it’s true. Instead, he decides if he can’t prove it through his words, he’ll prove it through his actions. Even though his limbs still feel leaden and clumsy, he forces himself into a better position, sitting up a bit more and bringing both of his hands up to cup your cheeks. He tilts your head back, leaning into you and slowly pressing you back against the floor and distantly Dazai recognizes that this is not the place for this but the thought is only fleeting, he’s too lost in the feeling of your lips against his and your body pressed to him.

And you let him ease you back against the floor. You let him tilt your head back and when his tongue darts out to swipe against your bottom lip, you part your lips for him. He doesn’t have to knock your knees apart, because you spread them just enough for him to slot his hips between them to keep your bodies flush. He wonders if you can feel how clunky his movements are—his fingers still feel heavy against your face and he can hardly hold himself up above you. He hopes he’s not crushing you with his weight, he might be, but you don’t seem to care. 

He pulls back to ask if you’re okay with this but you chase his lips and he lets out a soft, muffled noise when you tug gently at his bottom lip and bring your free hand up to cup the back of his head, fingers tangling with his hair, pulling him back down to you. You drag your lips from his to slide them down his neck to the edge of his bandages. He twitches a bit at the feeling, wondering if you’re going to ask to take them off, but instead, you just trail your lips back upward, nipping at his jaw, and he shudders.

And then he finally hesitates, pulling away and not letting you chase after this time. He weighs his options in his head anxiously. He feels like he should do something, that he owes something—a lowering of a mask, a show of vulnerability, you’re entitled to at least that much after everything he’s done. Aren't you?

You give him a curious look and he tries to respond—he does, his lips part for him to speak but nothing leaves them. He swallows thickly, eyes fluttering shut as he braces himself before trying again, bringing one of his hands to yours and wrapping his fingers around it gently, lifting it from his chest to the bandages covering the left side of his face.

“Take them off,” he tells you, voice hoarse and shakier than he would have liked.

Your eyes widen, and he shudders a bit when your fingers smooth against the bandages, uncertain. “Are you sure?” you ask him softly, bringing your other hand to his opposite cheek, cupping his face in your hands again, eyes searching to make sure he means it.

Is he sure? Dazai doesn’t know. He can’t speak again as he stares down at you; a part of him is nervous, and he doesn’t even understand why. You already know who he is, what he is, but a part of him still fears that once you actually see him, something will change. And it’s ridiculous, so many other universes you’ve seen him without his bandages and you’ve never made him feel uncomfortable about it. But you’ve also never used his surname against him during an argument in the other universes, you’ve never regretted loving him, and you’ve certainly never wished you could leave him. 

So, yeah, he thinks the anxiety of you removing his bandages and then seeing him in a different light might be more of a possibility in this universe than any other one. His body is more covered in scars than not, and he knows it’s not attractive; he thinks if he sees your expression shift in a negative way when the bandages come off, it might shatter him entirely.

Just the face bandages then, he bargains with himself, swallowing thickly as he forces himself to nod. You sit up from where you’re still laying back against the tiles, propping yourself on your knees to shift closer to him. 

Dazai thinks his heart might be in his throat when he feels your fingers unclip the clasp holding the bandages together around the left side of his face, eyes fluttering shut as you slowly unwind them from around his head. He isn’t sure why he’s so nervous for this part—there are no scars on his face, but he still feels distinctly vulnerable, like he’s giving you a window into himself that might reveal more than he means to. He can barely breathe as he feels the last of the bandages fall to the floor, he can hear you push them to the side. 

Still, he keeps his eyes shut, counting each second that passes. He’s anxious, can’t even bring himself to look at you until you cup his cheeks again. 

“Look at me,” you say quietly.

Dazai does as you ask, he always does. He doesn’t know what he expects when he opens his eyes to meet your gaze; he prepares himself for the worst, for a twisted expression or thinly veiled pity, but he finds none of it. Rather, your eyes are soft and fond, tracing over his face, looking between each of his. He can feel the pads of your fingers gently brushing over his cheekbones, tracing absent patterns.

“You’re so handsome, Osamu,” you whisper, one of your hands sliding behind his head, intertwining with his hair. “Why do you wear them?” 

Dazai doesn’t know how to answer that. His throat feels swollen at your words, eyes a bit misty and fingers trembling against your thighs. Instead, he breathes out, “Kiss me.”

And you do. 

God, when you kiss him again, it’s so intense that it has his head spinning. He doesn’t know how long he sits there kissing you, back against the cabinets with you half in his lap. It could be a few seconds, or a few minutes, or a few hours—he has no concept of time whenever his lips are against yours. It’s only when you press your hand against his shoulder, murmuring for him to get up, that he finally pulls himself away from you.

Dazai forces himself to push up to his feet—it’s much more difficult than he thought it would be, nearly tripping over his own feet, but you follow him up to your feet, steadying him when he almost tumbles over. You bring your hand up to rest against his cheek, fingers gently toying with the edges of his hair. He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment before he forces himself to look you in the eye. 

“You’re so frustrating,” you say softly, but all of the fire is gone, replaced by that same soft look you’ve directed toward him—not him—hundreds of times before. “You are so frustrating, Osamu.”

His throat feels tight again, the sound of his name on your lips causing a wave of warmth to spread through him, the numbness slowly subsiding.

“I know,” he whispers, swallowing thickly, and you sigh, gaze averting to the side for a moment before you look back at him. He still can’t fathom what you might be thinking and it scares him.

But then you kiss him again, your other hand coming up to his other cheek and his hands fly to your waist, holding you close. You walk him backward, out of the bathroom and into the hallway. His back hits the wall and you press your body close to his, and this time it’s you whose tongue is darting out to brush his bottom lip, urging him to part his lips for you. He does, and he thinks he might be in heaven when he feels your tongue dip into his mouth, sliding against his tongue. His eyes flutter shut, rolling back just a bit when you trace the back of his teeth with your tongue before sucking gently on his bottom lip.

Your hands slide down from his face to his chest, over his jacket, down to his waist. Your fingers hook in his belt loops and Dazai groans as your lips ghost from his down to his jaw, breath shaky as trail slow, wet kisses to the sensitive spot behind his ear. He can hardly do anything but follow along as you guide him from where he’s been backed against the wall into his bedroom, dazed and entirely consumed by your touch. His head already feels a bit fuzzy, breath hitching as your teeth graze his pulse point, kissing down to the edge of his bandages and then across his throat.

He barely even knows where he is until he feels the back of his knees hit his bed and he topples backward until he’s laying flat on it. His chest is heaving, head dizzy and breath shaky as you straddle his waist. You don’t kiss him again and Dazai wants to drag you down for another but he can’t even bring himself to move. His body refuses to cooperate, nervous that he’s going to make the wrong move.

“Do you want this?” you finally ask after a moment, voice raspy as one of your hands squeeze his gently, as if to get his attention. 

Dazai’s brows furrow a bit, lips parting to respond but for a second, no words leave them. You wait with the patience of a saint as Dazai tries to process what you’re asking and respond to it. After what feels like an eternity, he nods once. Of course, he wants it. You search his eyes as if to make sure he’s not just agreeing to agree, and once you’re satisfied, you continue you with: 

“And do you trust me?” you ask softly, your gaze gentle as it searches his face for the next answer.

Dazai doesn’t hesitate this time, and he speaks as he breathes out, “With everything.”

He can’t tell what you’re thinking, but your expression is still soft and your touch is still gentle as you run your thumb over his knuckles. Dazai doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the gentleness you show him. You lift your hand to cup his cheek and he leans into your touch, throat spasming beneath his bandages as he waits for you to say something. 

“Let me take the lead then,” you say quietly, his eyes widen a bit at your words. “I want to try something.”

He watches you carefully for a moment, guarded and studying you. He thinks this might be another first, and the thought alone makes him feel a bit giddy because he can’t recall any other life where you’ve ever been the one to take the lead like this, especially the first time the two of you sleep together. You look a bit anxious the longer he goes without responding, so he nods and says, “Okay.”

He’s pliant beneath your touch as you lean down to press your lips against his; he lets out a soft, muffled noise when he feels your hips shift, unintentionally grinding down a bit on his straining cock. He’s more hesitant this time in the way his lips move against yours, unsure of what to do with himself. His fingers twitch from where they're resting on the bed, itching to grab your hips but not wanting to make the wrong move.

This has happened every time one of you tries to take the next step, either he gets interrupted or he ends up getting cold feet because he’s scared of doing the wrong thing and making you uncomfortable. And it’s ridiculous because Dazai has so many memories, he should know at least vaguely what you like and what you don’t like but he thinks having the memories are a double-edged sword because he overwhelms himself if what ifs: what if he assumes you like something and you end up not liking it in this universe, what if he does something that you only liked after the two of you have been together for a while and you’re uncomfortable with him doing it because you’re not as comfortable with him. Maybe Dazai is just overthinking it all but how can he not when you’re involved. He wants everything to be perfect for you. 

“Is this okay?” you whisper, separating your lips from his just enough for him to answer your question. Your breath mingles with his and Dazai can hardly think straight; it’s hot, dizzying, there’s something so intimate about it that it makes his body fuzzy.

“Yeah,” he says, eyelashes fluttering as he looks up at you. “It’s okay.”

You kiss him again. His lips move against yours desperately, needy, he’d be embarrassed if you weren’t matching his energy, but you are. He can feel your fingers tugging at his hair, your hips grinding down against his. Every time you start to pull away, he lifts his head from where it’s laying flush against the pillows, chasing your lips. 

He needs you. His hands slide from your thighs to your waist, keeping your body pressed to his. He’s needed you since the day he came in contact with the Book and learned about you, since the day he met you at the club, maybe even since the day he was born even if he hadn’t known it at the time. He thinks his entire life has led to this, to the two of you being together; your souls have been entangled since the moment you were born and he isn’t sure how he ever thought a life without you was possible. 

“I need you,” he gasps against your lips, hips jerking up just a bit to try to alleviate the pressure building in his lower abdomen, desperate to reach down and unbutton his slacks, but wanting you to make the first move.

Whatever nerves that have made him get cold feet all of the other times the two of you have tried to take the next stop are long gone. You don’t give him any time to wonder if he’s doing the wrong thing—the fingers of one of your hands intertwining with his dark locks, just tight enough to make him hiss into your mouth, eyes rolling back at the pleasant sting. Your other hand slides across his chest, even through his dress shirt, your fingertips seem to scorch through to his skin, leaving his body tingling everywhere you touch.

“You have me,” you tell him, breathless, and Dazai can’t bite back the noise that slips from his lips, wanton and obscene, borderline pornographic—if he was any more coherent, he might be embarrassed but he can’t find it in him. Not when he’s finally getting what he’s wanted after all of this time. 

His hands fly down to his slacks, he fumbles with the button and zipper before yanking them down just enough to free his cock and he watches as you sit back on his thighs, eyes wide and lips parted as your gaze focuses in on his cock, watching as the leaking precum dribbles down his length, alongside the vein running along the underside of his cock. 

“Please,” he breathes out, fingers biting into your thighs as he bunches your dress up to your hips, another low moan spilling from his lips just at the thought of what’s about to happen, lashes fluttering.

You don’t even take off your panties, clearly driven by the same desperation that he is as you slide them to the side and position yourself above his cock and Dazai gnaws at his bottom lip when he feels the tip pressing against your entrance. He can feel how wet you are already, so drenched that your slick is dripping down the length of his cock. His hips stutter up instinctively, but instead of pushing inside, his cock slides between your folds and he whimpers, arm flying to cover the lower half of his face. You don’t let him, fingers wrapping around his wrist to pull his arm from his face and pin it to the mattress above him.

“Don’t hide yourself,” you say softly.

Dazai thinks there must be stars in his eyes as he looks up at you. You’re so beautiful, lips parted as you pant softly, an adoring expression on your face as you look down at him. He loves you. He loves you, god, he loves you more than he’s ever loved anything in his life; he thinks that nothing the other Dazais ever felt for any of the other yous could ever compare to how he feels for you.

When his tip starts to push into your tight hole, all he can let out is another loud, lewd noise; his head falls back against the pillows. His ears are ringing, but distantly, he can hear you gasp. His vision is blurry as he forces himself to look up at you but Dazai thinks you look otherworldly with your head tilted back as his cock starts to stretch you out, lips swollen and wet from the kisses you’d shared. He thinks he must look insane, pupils blown wide and eyes wild as he tries to focus on the sight of you. All of the clever wheels that usually turn within his mind are crumbling.

His fingertips leave crescents in your thighs as you sink down on his cock slowly—too slow, it leaves his head dizzy as your warmth slowly envelops his length. He’s imagined this so many times before. Dozens. Hundreds. He has so many memories of the feeling of your body flush to his, thighs over his shoulders as he fucks you deep and slow, swallowing your moans, but he thinks that nothing compares to this, the sight of you above him, watching your body tremble and face shift as his cock stretches you out. He barely refrains from letting out a string of strangled curses, barely able to hold his eyes open to watch you. 

You give yourself a moment to adjust, and when you do, you look down at Dazai. He thinks he must look a mess—chest heaving, breath erratic, eyes heavy and lidded and entirely glazed over—but he doesn’t care, not with the way your hand slides up his abdomen, fingers tracing patterns along the bandages covering his body. You look beautiful—you always look beautiful—but you look extra beautiful right now, and he thinks he could stare at you forever and never tire of it. 

Experimentally, you roll your hips—it’s still slow, agonizingly slow—and Dazai throws his head back, another obscene moan spilling from  his lips.

“Fuck,” he gasps, his fingers falling from your thighs to twist the sheets below him, knuckles white. “Feels so good. So good.”

You let out a hum that’s caught between a moan and agreement as you continue the slow rolls of your hips, hands sliding up and down his abdomen in a way that’s deceptively innocent and soothing compared to how his cock is dragging along your walls. His body shudders at the feeling of it, heat pooling in his abdomen so quickly that it has his whole body tensing as he tries to push it away. 

“You’re so perfect.” Words spill from his lips, more of a babble than anything else as you lean down to ghost your lips over his jaw, nibbling over the bandages covering his Adam’s apple. It bobs beneath your teeth as he lets out another shaky noise. “S’like you’re made for me. I’d do anything for you. Anything. You know that, right? Anything you want, it’s yours.”

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, clawing at the sheets and occasionally reaching for your thighs, and he doesn’t know what to do with his body, hips jerking up at an erratic pace, like he’s trying to meet your pace but his body simply can’t match the slow rolls of your hips, desperate for more. He doesn’t know how you’re so put together—maybe you’re not, he can see through a blurry vision how your lashes are fluttering with each roll of your hips, breath shaky, but you’re just not as far gone as he already is.

“Anything?” you murmur, and he can feel your lips curve up against his neck.

“Anything.” His breath hitches, fingers reaching for your hips as he rocks his up into you, a desperate attempt to get you to pick up the pace. “‘d give you the whole world, burn it for you, anything you want, I’d give it to you.”

His hands slide up from your thighs to your waist as you lean down to press your lips against his in a deceptively innocent kiss. He tries to chase your lips as you straighten up but you don’t let him, one of your hands curling around his throat—not choking him, but firm enough that it goes right to his cock, lips parting in a silent moan—while the other braces back on his thigh.

He thinks that nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of you picking up the pace. His breath hitches, he chokes over a moan, stars sparkle in his vision as the tip of his cock presses deep inside of you. You sigh out his name and Dazai thinks this might be the closest he ever gets to heaven: you on top of him, cock buried to the hilt in your cunt, the sight of your blissed out face above him as his head spins. 

“Oh, fuck,” Dazai cries out, back arching and hand flying to cover his face again but the hand you have on his thigh flies forward to snatch his wrist before he can, pinning it back above his head. Dazai’s eyes roll back, you’re leaning over him entirely now, leaning most of your weight on the hand that’s pinning his wrist but the new angle adds pressure onto how you’re squeezing his neck, paring his airways just enough to make his lungs burn. “More. Faster, fuck, I-ah-”

His voice falls off into another moan, head falling to the side to press his cheek against the pillow. He thinks drool is starting to pool at the corner of his lips but he doesn’t care, he can’t even think at this point, too lost in the lewd sound of skin-on-skin, the sloppiness of his cock fucking deep in your cunt, your soft moans and gasps, lost in the feeling of your tight walls clamping down on his cock, the warmth, the wetness, your fingers digging into his wrist and the sides of his neck. He wants to tell you that he needs more but the words are garbled, entirely unintelligible. 

He forces his eyes back open, feeling the tears spilling over his cheeks just from the intensity of it all, the intensity of you. You’re gentle with him even when your hand is wrapped around his throat and his cock is splitting you open—he can feel the soothing circles you rub with your thumb, he can see the way you’re searching his face to make sure he’s okay. Dazai is just so overwhelmed that he can’t stop the way his next moan breaks into a sob; acutely realizing just how deprived he’d been of any type of care or love before meeting you, and forcibly coming to terms with the fact that he is never going to be able to go without this again, without you again. He’d known it to some extent before this, the thought of losing you and the light you bring him has made his stomach churn violently but this…

He’s torn from his thoughts when you suddenly stop the rolls of your hips, halting the spreading heat in his lower abdomen desperately. The noise that escapes him is something caught between distress and betrayal, dark eyes wide as he looks up at you questioningly, but the expression on your face makes his breath catch. Your hand slides up from his throat to cup his cheek, your other hand releasing his wrist so that you can hold his face between your hands, thumbs wiping away the tears spilling over his cheeks.

Distantly, Dazai recognizes that he’s still choking over sobs and that’s probably why you’ve stopped and that only rips his chest apart more because of course, you’re still putting him above you—even when you’re mad, even when you’ve just fought, when he’s betrayed you in a way that should be unforgivable, you’re still kissing away his tears and putting aside your own needs to take care of him

He doesn’t deserve you. Not in any universe, but especially not in this one.

He thinks he could stay here for eternity. Fuck the rest of the world. Fuck the Port Mafia. Fuck his plan. He just wants to stay here with you, your lips brushing his, sharing the same sliver of air. He leans into your touch, groaning against your lips when he feels your walls spasm around him.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes out, unsure if you can even understand him. “You’re so-”

His words fall off into another moan, and he can’t control his hips as they thrust up sharply against yours, another string of incoherent curses escaping his hips as your breath catches and you straighten back up, head falling back as you gasp his name.

Your nails dig crescents into his upper thighs through his bandages as you brace yourself back against them. You move your hips again—faster, this time, harder, and Dazai thinks his head is in the clouds. He’s so deep inside of you that he can feel everything, jaw falling slack as heat spreads through his body too rapidly for him to get control over. He wants to throw a hand over his mouth to muffle the lewd, pitched moans spilling from his lips but he can’t drag his hands from where they’re clawing at your hips, desperately trying to help you meet him with each thrust.

“I-hah-shit, I’m gonna-fuck-”

He slurs out your name and several obscenities, trying to warn you that he’s going to cum when he feels his cock twitching inside of you and his abdomen tensing, but you only lean down to press a lingering kiss to the corner of his lips and Dazai is gone. He wants to watch you, he tries, but he can’t hold his eyes open, they’re half-rolled back as he chokes over moans of your name, hips stilling as he cums deep inside of you. His body twitches, expression twisted as he presses his head so hard into the pillow that he thinks he might permanently indent it. 

His head is spinning, lungs burning, sweat beading at his forehead and hair matted to his face—he thinks he’s never cum so hard in his entire life; all of the nights he spent alone, desperately trying to fuck his hand to the thought of you in attempts to mimic how you’ve made all the other Dazais feel, to give himself some semblance of the pleasure you’ve brought him in other lives to hold him over on particularly lonely nights, they’ve never felt like this.

You don’t stop, even as he squirms and lets out jumbled pleas beneath you, body shuddering at the overstimulation but you’re too lost in chasing your own high now. He spasms beneath you, nails digging into your thigh as you fuck his cum deeper inside of you, bouncing on his cock desperately. He doesn’t care that the sensitivity is pushing his body to the brink, letting you use him however you want if it means he gets to see you like this. 

Dazai’s head feels light, pins and needles pricking his body—he thinks he might pass out but he forces himself to hold on, enraptured by the sight of you on top of him with your eyes half-rolled back, lips parted and throat bared to him. Your tits are half-spilling out over the low-cut of your dress and Dazai thinks you’re fucking divine. The only holy thing in this godless world. He wants to spend the rest of his life worshiping you.

“I’m gonna-” you gasp, head falling backward as one final roll of your hips that has your clit grinding against his pelvic bone sends you spiraling over the edge. 

Dazai wants to sear the image of you behind his eyelids, watching as your nails drag against his thighs, drawing red lines even through the bandages, back arching, head tossed back—your body is trembling violently as you cum on his cock, expression twisted and entirely blissed out, sobbing over his name. He chokes and gasps at the feeling of your cunt tightening around his sensitive cock again, jaw tight and spots dancing in his vision as he’s so abruptly pushed over the edge a second time, the coil in his abdomen tightening and snapping all within the span of a few seconds.

He’s still reeling when he feels you slump forward onto his chest, burying your face in the crook of his neck, shivering in the aftershocks of your orgasm. He’s only half aware as he instinctively brings his hands up to rest on your hips, rubbing soft circles of your hip bones to try to soothe you. 

He shudders when you press a kiss to his neck right at the edge of his bandages, and then tilt your head up to press another on his jaw. One of your hands comes up to caress the back of his head, fingers carding through the dark locks in a way that has his eyes drooping shut. 

“We’re not done with this conversation,” you finally say after a few moments of silence, voice soft, breaking the silence. Dazai stiffens a bit, lips parting to respond but no words leave them. “... but let’s just lay like this for a while first, okay?”

He lets out a shaky breath, still not entirely convinced that he’s not going to lose you, so he lets his eyes flutter shut as he nods. He may as well bask in this for as long as he can, and if you notice the way his fingers dig just a little deeper into your skin after your words process, you don’t mention it. 

“Yeah,” he murmurs, “okay.”

Dazai wakes up the next morning and you’re nowhere to be seen. The bed is frighteningly cold next to him and his heart is instantly in his throat. He doesn’t waste a second before he’s sitting up in bed, looking around, eyes wild and heart racing. He doesn’t settle down, not until his eyes fall upon where you’re sitting curled up on the chair of the desk he never uses, eyes trained on the dark clouds outside the window, the beauty of the sunrise wilted by a morning storm.

“His intention was to make me leave you.” You’re not looking at him, but you must have heard him sit up. “Fyodor Dostoevsky. The things he told me, they were to make me leave you.”

Dazai doesn’t move an inch, throat swelling. He forces himself to ask, “What did he tell you?”

He isn’t sure if he wants to know.

“It doesn’t matter,” you say—Dazai thinks that it definitely does, but he bites back the questions that rise to his tongue because you’re clearly not about to budge on your answer. “Who is he?”

“A monster,” Dazai bites out, bitterness seeping into his tone as he leans back against the headboard, eyes still trained on where you’re curled on his chair, gaze distant. “You have to stay away from him.”

“Well, I didn’t intend on seeking him out,” you say it so dryly that Dazai nearly finds humor in it. Nearly. The smile that rises to his lips is mirthless at best. You turn to look at him, finally, and Dazai finds only cool indifference on your face; the fondness, the softness, the gentleness from last night are all gone. He wonders if you regret it, but he doesn’t let that thought linger, it’ll only make him sick. “... He doesn’t seem like the type to give up.”

“He never is,” Dazai murmurs, ignoring the brief, questioning look you direct toward him, mind drifting off to all of the Russian’s incessant attempts to take you from him in all of the other universes. “Did he tell you what his plan was?”

Dazai doubts it, but maybe there was something he said to you that shed some light to it.

“He didn’t have to,” you say quietly. “He wants Yokohama, for whatever reason—couldn’t figure that out, I think he’s looking for something—and clearly, he has to get through you to get it. He thinks the best way of getting through you is by taking me away from you first. That’s what I’d gathered from how he was talking at least, what he was saying about you, the way he was phrasing it. I’d put together enough on my own during the night to fill in the blanks. He told me things about what you’d done as… what you’d done as boss of the Port Mafia—things you’ve done to enemies… to allies. He told me that I’d see the real you as soon as you realize that the meeting he set up was a farce; that the mask you put up would crumble and I would see you for the demon that you are.”

Dazai doesn’t respond, jaw tight as he averts his gaze to the window—he’d played right into Dostoevsky’s hands. He can hardly bring himself to look at you; he wonders if you do see him differently now that the cloud from the night before has worn off, but he can’t bring himself to ask. Now’s not the time anyway, there are more pressing matters.

“... He’ll come after me again, won’t he?” you ask quietly. “Getting me to leave you willingly didn’t work. If he’s so set on me being the trigger to your downfall, then he’ll come after me again.”

He would. As he always has. Of course, Dostoevsky would try to get to him through you, he’s tried it in every universe, and Dazai hadn’t been careful enough. He hadn’t been smart enough. He’d known this was going to happen and was still arrogant enough to believe he could somehow prevent it. He was a fool, and he was a fool at the cost of your safety. He doesn’t know how to respond to you, he doesn’t want to confirm your suspicions, he doesn’t want to admit that this is all his fault, that he knew this would happen and was selfish enough to pursue you anyway.

“... I’m scared, Osamu,” you finally say quietly, and you suddenly look a lot smaller from where you’re sitting on his desk chair, hunched over with your knees tucked to your chest. “I’m really scared.”

Dazai’s heart claws up to his throat and he pushes himself out of bed, still dressed haphazardly in his suit from the night before. He makes his way over to you and kneels in front of you, hands curling around your ankles as he looks up at you.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he tells you, voice a bit more raspier than he intended for it to come across as. “I don’t care what I have to do to ensure it, how low I have to stoop. I will not let anything happen to you, do you understand?”

Your eyes meet his, and he can’t help but notice that doubt still riddles your gaze as you search his face, as if you want to believe him but can’t bring yourself to. A pit starts to grow in his stomach, wide and gaping as he realizes that this is all really about to happen, and one mistake on his part could lead you to the same fate you’ve met in so many other worlds because of him.

Finally, the doubt slowly clears as you let out a soft breath, nodding, and Dazai inhales sharply, laying his forehead against your shin as he lets his eyes slide shut.

He won’t let it happen. Not again. 

again there was NO plot development in the smut - you guys didn't miss out on anything, pinky swear. i restructured the scene to fit the only notable scene (bandage removal) into the part before the smut, so if that felt a little forced, that was why </3 it wasn't supposed to be there. i was struggling trying to figure out how to move it upward a bit. the only arguable "plot" development was dazai letting go of his control freakiness to let her take the lead

[ask-pomni-blog]

Ok this may seem like im grasping at straws here but i need you guys to let me cook for a sec-

HUGE TADC EPISODE 2 SPOILERS

We start off the episode with Pomni’s nightmare, which is a reflection of Pomni’s fears and feelings that are going to be expanded upon throughout the episode. Her main fear isn’t abstracting here, it's the feeling of helplessness, the feeling of not mattering to anybody in the circus. This is seen clearly when Ragatha, Jax, and Caine are shown above the cellar, basically saying “good riddance” upon witnessing Pomni abstract.

And it makes complete sense that Pomni would feel this way once you look back at the circus’ reaction to Kaufmo abstracting (before the second episode). He doesn’t get acknowledged as someone who has just passed away, he doesn’t even get a moment of silence. Pomni notices this, and after she wakes up from her nightmare, she seems almost reluctant to bond with the rest of the circus members because this fear is still on her mind.

This is seen particularly when Pomni is speaking to Ragatha. Ragatha attempts to be helpful at any given chance, but most of the time Pomni is lost in her thoughts. Pomni doesn't seem very open to conversate with Ragatha because of her fears. But this isn't unwarranted, Ragatha literally calls the situation from the day before a “doozy” which brings up the fact that Ragatha constantly dismisses important issues, saying that they should just forget about the situation that happened the day before when Pomni left her for the exit. I understand that she’s trying to ease the tension between them, but I fear she might be making it even worse. Additionally, Ragatha dismissing a very important issue like that makes Pomni’s fears stronger, it may seem to Pomni that Ragatha doesn’t care…

When it’s actually the opposite! The whole episode she tries her best to motivate Pomni (��look, Pomni. We’re already friends with the princess!”, “So, Pomni, I’m sure there’s some way you could help out here.”)

and she’s also very concerned for Pomni when she’s gone (“...Pomni’s still on board!”, “Oh man, Poor Pomni. I hope she's alright.”, “I’m more worried she’s having another horrible experience.”, “Pomni! Are you okay?”)

However, all these remarks could be seen as condescending from Pomni’s perspective… And on the other hand, Ragatha feels like Pomni blames her for the situation, and that Pomni dislikes her. 

Returning to the topic of Pomni’s fears, a lot of this is also reflected in her conversation with Gummigoo:

—

G:“I don’t matter in the slightest. I’m nothing. My life, my memories… my friends… it’s all fake.” 

P:“...I think I know the feeling.”

P:“...I guess I just don't want you to feel like you’re nothing. I don’t want anyone to feel like that.”

G:“But I'm not even a real person. Would I even belong?”

P:“I’m sure you wouldn’t belong any less than me.”

—

Pomni relates to Gummigoo’s fears!! And Pomni is so compassionate and understanding too! …sadly their friendship didn’t last very long… and that brings us back to Ragatha and Pomni. Ragatha tries her best to be reassuring… unfortunately that didn’t work either. AND THIS WHOLE INTERACTION IS JUST- OH MY GOD... LET ME PUT A HUGE EMPHASIS ON THEIR BODY LANGUAGE HERE:

Also the WORDING HERE:

and this scene ooohhhhhhh,,,,,,,, this scene...!!

POMNI IS REASSURED ONCE SHE SEES THAT THE CIRCUS MEMBERS DO CARE. THEY WOULD CARE. HER FEARS DISSAPEAR AND AND- ohhhhmy god this is so sick and twisted.. this ep was.. soooooo good. holy smokes. anyways thank you for listening to my TED talk.

[chaethewriter]

You're dead to me [2]

dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader

In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?

warning: english isn't my first language, daddy issues, idk how one lives with zero gravity, barely proofread

Word count: 2,3k

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What actually took six years didn't feel like that to you at all. One moment you closed your eyes as you were put into cryosleep and after what felt like one second passed, you got woken up from your deep slumber. The claustrophobic space you are in makes something inside of you itch. Good thing you were into cryosleep, you couldn't have survived sleeping in this tube every night for six years in a row. Once your tube was pulled out of the wall, you immediately feel yourself floating. So this is what space felt like.

"Drink and eat lots, since you will feel very weak!", a loud voice echoes through the room as one by one everyone left their cryosleep. You float through the room with a smile on your face as you hold onto handles, lockers, anything to keep your balance. An excited scream could be heard from behind you, it was your friend Raja. "You are not dead I see," she jokes as she floats towards you, her arms wide open to invite you in a hug, "this is honestly insane, I can't believe that we are actually doing this!" You wrap your arms around you as you share her excitement, "I know right? We worked so hard for this, I can't believe this is happening." You met Raja on your first day being at the resistance base. She shared her passion for nature with pride and you always admired her for this. A cough is heard behind your back and Raja looks over your shoulder to see who it was, "Seb!" she squeals as she carefully gets out of your hug, floating towards their other friend to engulf him in a hug. You watch as Raja and Seb share their excitement with each other. They really didn't age at all while being in cryosleep, such an interestingly concept it was. You float towards them, holding onto Seb's shoulder to keep your balance and not pass out, because damn they were right. You feel so tired and weak. If you weren't in space right now you probably would have fallen to the floor. Your limbs felt like cooked noodles, you really needed to eat. "The trio is back at it again to cause havoc!!" Seb ruffles your head, your hair tangling in between his fingers as he did so. The three of you were the inseparable trio. While you had a group of friends you hung out with, you three always just stuck together like glue. It may have been the fact you bonded over being reckless warriors, thriving on the thrill and action, or the fact all three of you were top students, but that doesn't matter. Raja and Seb are your partners in crime til death do you all part. The two are engaged in a deep conversation, but you didn't bother to listen or chime in. You wanted to explore, and see what you worked your entire teenagehood for. Grabbing onto the handle against the walls, you made your way towards the huge window, were also most of the crew was floating around. You had to see this for yourself, you had to believe it with your own eyes. What if you were still dreaming?

"Excuse me, Pardon me!", still not used to not having any gravity, you keep bumping into other warriors. A 'watch where you're going!' was screamed your way, but you paid no mind to it as you had more important things to do. Floating past the last person that kept you from seeing outside, your eyes immediately widen at the beauty that lay in front of you. A planet, looking exactly like earth, right in front of you. It was beautiful, the true meaning behind mother nature. You bring your hand towards your cheek to pinch yourself, was this real? Were you truly experiencing this? When you pinched yourself so hard, leaving a red mark on your skin, and you didn't wake up you knew this was real. You were knocked out of your senses pretty quickly, as everyone was told to dress up, eat and get together in the common area. Where that was? No idea, but what you knew is that you were excited as hell. You basically swam through the air towards the lockers, where your supposed gear would be. The sight was probably incredibly silly, you thought, you probably looked like a swimming frog. Yet you didn't care about the stares that were given you. The only thing on your mind was to see Pandora with your own eyes— not out of books, notes you had to read, or drawings. You left without telling Seb or Raja, but you would probably find them, considering you're going to the same destination and those two definitely weren't to miss.

You float past all the lockers with nameplates, looking for your name. You were told that they were in alphabetic order. Last name. You could never escape him, could you? You proceed to float, using the lockers to pull yourself up and speed up towards the lockers that start with 'S'. Upon floating in front of the name that haunted you every day, you sigh and slam the locker open. Clothes sealed in recycled plastic, a pair of shoes, and an oxygen mask. Fortunately, it wasn't those old aquarium-like masks. When you learned about those you thought they were ugly as hell: a head in an aquarium. Those were designed like gas masks. Was that the best way to explain them? They only covered the mouth and nose part to breathe properly, it didn't cover the entire face anymore. You flash a skeptical expression towards the clothes in your arms. They were dark colors, dark colors in a hot amazon-like forest? If it were up to you, you wouldn't have chosen a little more, bare, clothes. For the sweat to at least dry up and not soak in the clothes. "Weird choice of clothes, right?", Raja appeared next to you, out of the blue, making you flinch. You quickly managed to cover it up and compose yourself, "I'm gonna end up looking like a crab while fighting a villain, kind of embarrassing." she laughs at your reply and grabs a hold of your forearm, "come on let's go change. Seb already went to change!" And with that, your friend pulls you with her. Changing your clothes was kind of awkward. The room was a big space where all women changed next to one another. It gave PE class vibes. You felt sticky and disgusting as you changed out of the clothes you wore for six years. Wearing fresh, clean clothes is always better than nothing. The material feels nice against your skin, and very cooling. As you look in the mirror, fixing every detail to look as neat as possible. You roll your sleeves up just a tad bit and tried to loosen the corset-like clothing piece around your upper body. It doesn't look exactly like a corset, but it's one of those clothing pieces that have a corset built into it. The mask is hanging against your hip, ready to be used 24/7 once you stepped foot on Pandora. The pants were a little wide thankfully, enough space to move into. "What is it with the corset though? Who wears a corset while fighting?" "Maybe it's bulletbroof or something?"

After this whole ordeal in the dressing room with some people whining about the clothes being too hot, while others were second guessing if the outfit was nice to fight in, you finally made your way towards this common area. There everyone was awkwardly sitting, what one could call sitting in space. Everyone was given a granola bar to snack on and a sealed bag with a sweet drink in it. You leaned against Seb, as you were too tired to use your strength to hold onto anything. Eating the bar and sipping from the overly-sweetened drink, you listened to the peptalk your superiors were giving you all. It was something about protecting Pandora, RDA and the forest Na'vi, but you really were too tired to listen. It was most likely the talk they did every time before you went into cryosleep. If you missed anything you could just ask Raja or Seb about it.

What almost felt like a decade to you, actually took just a few hours before you finally landed on Pandora. During the landing all, maybe twenty of you in total, were seated as you braced for impact. It wasn't too bad, it was like a plane landing. Before the doors opened, the duffel bags you took with you were placed on your laps. For your instance, the bag with the wrapped katana you got from your lieutenant was handed to you. You put your mask against your face, pressing it down and securing it as you breathe in the oxygen from the earth. Red lights flash through the area you're in with the others as the secured door lowers to the Pandorean ground, revealing the beauty of mother nature. You rise from your seat as your seat belt was already unclasped. Without waiting any longer, you rushed to the outside world in a heartbeat. Watching your surroundings, it seems like you landed on the resistance base. Unlike the RDA base, which you saw during your learning process, this one was more integrated with mother nature rather than destroying it to make space. It was so organic, so natural. A team was already waiting for your arrival, all standing in a row as you lock gazes with a Na'vi. Unlike the things you were taught about Na'vi clothing, this one was wearing human clothes. Could this be what one would call an avatar? The same situation your dad was also in? You start thinking he was your dad, but it didn't look like him at all. You knew avatars were supposed to look like their 'owners'. Even though it was supposed to be your dad's brother's avatar, they were twins. One would ask 'you don't know what your dad's avatar body looks like?', but honestly as you said many times you tried to pull away from the hauntings Jake Sully got you. The insecurities, and issues you got from his betrayal, his departure. It truly hit you like a truck. Questions would pop up like:

Were you enough?

Was there something wrong with you?

Why didn't he come back to you?

You couldn't take talking about your dad's new life. Selfish one may call it, then you were selfish in their eyes. You didn't care. Wanting your dad, is that selfish? Missing your dad, is that selfish? Angry because your dad wanted a new life without you, is that selfish? You yearned for him, yet despised talking about him. That's why you don't know what he looks like, what he is up to. You just know his history: put into the avatar body from his brother to follow military orders. From only caring about getting a paycheck to protecting the natives. He was crowned with the name Toruk Makto as you were taught. Mated to Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'Ite, daughter of the Olo'eyktan and Tsahik. When you first heard about this, you felt sick to your stomach. Reality hitting you even harder at age thirteen. It was already bad enough to know your dad left you, but also getting to know that he settled down while you spent your time waiting for him? You remember running out of the classroom when a superior taught you this information. This was also how you got in contact with Raja and Seb. They comforted you while everyone else thought of you as weird, weak. They were the first people, besides the superiors that came in contact with you, that came to know about your dad being Jake Sully, about the struggles you got after he left. Yet, they didn't laugh at what you thought was exaggerating. They listened carefully to your words as the tears rolled down your cheeks.

'We were attached to the hip, what went wrong?'

'Did I make him unhappy?'

'Was I too much for him?'

'Was he looking for something more rather than being a single dad?'

You spilled your insecurities to them and they never uttered a word about it to someone else. You will be forever grateful for them. You were so lost in thoughts, getting slightly emotional at all these thoughts about your dad, until a hand rested on your shoulder, "and last but not least, you must take her with you. She's our best warrior, Norm. She will need to stay on the battlefield, closest to the war." So Norm was his name. A pretty goofy one if you had to be honest. The avatar named Norm stood at least 10 feet tall as he looked down at you, literally. You just reached around his crotch area, which is kinda embarrassing because imagining running into his front. Hopefully, he likes to travel in his human body more. "Then that's settled, Oel Ngati Kameie." His hand rested against his forehead, slowly bringing it down to his chest. You flashed him a kind smile in return, ready for whatever adventure you will come across, "Oel Ngati Kameie."

But only if you knew.

.

.

"They have arrived, they will help us."

"They're sky demons! All the same!"

"I used to be one as well, yet I had a change of heart. Please accept the help they will offer us, for our people, for our family, our fortress." his hands grip hers, intertwining their fingers as he spoke to her in private, away from the children. He opened his mouth again, pressing his forehead against hers, "please, Ma Neytiri."

A/N: first of all, thank you all so much for the positive feedback. I honestly didn't expect it I'm gonna be fr😭 it gave me enough motivation to write part 2, so here it is, earlier than expected. I hope you enjoyed <3

also i hope no one noticed me accidentally posting the draft cause that was silly

Taglist (I couldn't find everyone):

@hoodiepandaninja16 @l0v3e1i @neteyamforlife @noname2246 @bunnyrose01 @littlelia007 @j0551 @navs-bhat @fyfy-world @hellok1ttycake @coterami @lwozy @erenjaegerwifee @n1ght5h4d3-24 @kahlowy @iloveavatar @farleyis @reguluscrystals @inomoikawa @bobojojoba69 @m3ll0n1xx @eternallyvenus @shyskybbb @imakms @keira7664 @alice121804 @aimsro @carollise @jjkclub @onlytays @wolfiealina @guska0 @yeosxxx @dakotali @destinylb @degenweeb @sunshinewwx @alohastitch0626

[avocad1s]

About the Creator: Favoritism - 2

Requested by: Multiple anonymous users

CW: None?

Characters Included: Lyney, Arlecchino, Pantalone, Furina, Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Venti, Zhongli, Nahida

Note: Long time no see! Hope you all enjoy something lots of people requested in my absence! 🙏 Also this is written before Arlecchino’s release. So there may be some OOC Harbingers lol

Part One

-

Arlecchino: “Their Grace has quite the sweet tooth. Naturally I don’t mind indulging them in the sweetest treats I can find. Spending time with Their Grace is not a privilege everyone enjoys… they constantly join my children and I for tea or just simple conversation… What’s with that look? Surely you don’t believe I would actually cause harm to them. No matter what you think of the Fatui, Her Majesty still reveres Their Grace. So naturally we would feel the same.”

Furina: “I always feared what Their Grace would think of me. I was pretending to be the Hydro Archon, I knew with just one look, they would know I wasn’t who I claimed. I thought I was ready to accept any form of punishment they deemed worthy. However when we first met, their benevolence really shined through. They really understood just how draining the past few decades were for me and even apologized for not being there…. Ehem! Anyways…! I actually have a tea party with Their Grace this afternoon! I must get the most exquisite confectioneries to suit their palate.”

Lyney: “So that’s what you wanted to ask! Well yes, there have been many times when Their Grace and I have been alone together.… and as the successor, I have to tend towards Their Grace in “Fathers” absence. Having any kind of relationship with them is very beneficial for the House of the Hearth, but them wanting to spend more time with me than with the Iudex or even Ms. Furina… well, I won’t complain one bit!”

Nahida: “My favorite thing to do with Their Grace is trading knowledge with them. Even with Irminsul, Their Grace knows bits of knowledge I’ve never heard before. They were here once before, back when all members of the Seven were still in contact with each other. I have no memory of that. So it’s only fair that I’m able to make memories of my own with Their Grace now right?”

Neuvillette: “Their Grace spends a lot of their time in Fontaine. As the Iudex and with no Archon ruling the nation, I have made it my personal responsibility to tend to their needs.… You are correct, Their Grace and I do spend quite a lot of time together, anytime I am free of my duties I always look forward to sharing a cup of water imported from Qiaoying Village and listening to whatever they wish to talk about.… Hm? No of course not. There is nothing I would deem as “too much work” when it comes to Their Grace.”

Pantalone: “There is no amount of mora I wouldn’t spend on Their Grace. No matter what they request, whether it be big or small, common or rare, I will always get it for them. Tell me Traveler, do you believe I am buying Their Grace’s attention? There are many people in Teyvat who have money, yet their gaze never leaves mine. It seems that obtaining a vision isn’t the only way to get favor from the Gods.”

Venti: “Hello there Traveler…! You were coming here to see Their Grace? Well, you just missed them! But worry not, I can sing you a song I just wrote about them! Oh…? You think that the Creator favors me? Well I’d rather it be me than any of the other Archons! All of Mondstadt believes that I’m just some bard who managed to capture Their Grace’s attention, but in reality I think I understand Their Grace better than anyone. Hehe…”

Wriothesley: “I never really expected to meet Their Eminence, but once they requested to enter the Fortress I made sure everything was in order for their arrival. Even now, they come down often just to share a cup of tea with Sigewinne and I. A lot of the prisoners believe that I have some sort of favoritism or that I take bribes from them… hm? Well I didn’t say it wasn’t true, but I didn’t think it was that obvious…”

Zhongli: “You wish to know about my relationship with Their Grace? As the eldest Archon, I take pride in having the strongest connection with them. Even now, when they return to Teyvat centuries later, it feels as if our connection has never changed. If they ever choose to settle in one of the nations, I would be honored if they chose Liyue. Everything I’ve done has been in their image, and being able to spend time with them as Zhongli rather than Morax is a privilege I will never take for granted.”

My first post back just to see how it felt to write some of my favorite characters again. Anyway, I will be opening requests so feel free to send something in! :)

© avocad1s 2024

[fuxuannie]

↳ pairing : miles morales x reader

↳ synopsis : shenanigans with your favorite classmate :) (maybe even a secret crush)

↳ authors note : i'm rlly trying to expand through fandoms, plzzz don't leave i promise i still write hsrr ;o; !!!!! i'm gonna be on a LONG atsv brainrot plz <\3 wuts a proof-read idk what that iz (/j)

MILES MORALES was the new student two years ago, some people thought he was an oddball since the first day encounter with his dad.. but you didn't really mind it honestly. You had much more important matters to attend to, like not listening to gossip.

After learning he was in some of your classes, you decided to try and get to know the guy. He seemed pretty cool, and you never passed an opportunity to know someone new.

"Morales, right?" Miles hears from behind him, it's currently lunch and so he turns his head to see you standing there with a tray in hand. "Mind if I sit with you?"

Since that day, you two hit it off like crazy, with sharing interests and hobbies it wasn't hard to talk every single day and run out of things to talk about.

"So, my Uncle Aaron took me to this crazy place like 2 years ago maybe? But yeah, it's where I did one of my first graffiti art." He explained, leading you through the dark traintracks while holding your wrist so you don't lose him in the darkness. "Sounds cool! Is it the same one that you used in your essay?"

You listen to the echo of his laughter. "Yeah, it is.. He was a great man, made me who I am today."

The way he talks fondly about his Uncle makes your heart sting a little. Though you were never able to meet him yourself, the way Miles talked about him to you made it clear he was a man who loved his nephew like he was his own son, and it was like you could emphasize with his pain of losing him.

However your thoughts are interrupted at the loud sound of a light switch turning on, illuminating the room and different graffiti art drawn on the walls. Miles laughs at your breathless expression, admiring the way your eyes seemed to glow at the art all around you.

"Heeey, look at that!" You chuckled, pointing at the 'Expectations' graffiti you brought up earlier. "You were so much shorter back then.." And Miles rolled his eyes at that comment, knowing that you were referring to the silhouette on the wall. "Very funny."

Then you realize theres a section of the wall thats covered with cloth, and he notices how you take notice of it. Miles immediately clears his throat, puts a hand behind his neck and looks at the ground. "Oh, uh.. that's a work in progress. I wouldn't want you to see i-"

Suddenly his spidey-senses go off, the second he looks up he already sees you right infront of the wall and about to touch the cover. "(name)!"

Pulling it off, it reveals a wall full of.. you? You were surprised that the details were down almost perfectly, your nose shape, your eyes and your smile. It was all so perfectly done that in a way it could either be flattering or a tiny bit creepy.

Of course, Miles being your best friend, you may or may not sketch or write about him every now and then (or rather all the time) depending on which one you felt like doing, but he didn't have to know that.

"I'm.. honored?" You laugh, looking back at your poor friend whos pulled his hoodie over his head and his hands covering his face. "Oh, come on! It's not that embarassing- And it looks good I promise!" You tried to reassure him, but the boy has no intentions on budging.

"I forgot I had that." Miles mumbled to himself, ignoring how you pull on his arm to try and get him to show himself.

At some point you've given up, and let the guy wallow in his own embarassment for a while. Your attention shifts back onto the art wall, seeing the several doodles and actual art pieces that you can only assume Miles was working on for the past 2 years you two were friends.

The much smaller doodles were your favorites, ones where he made you a tiny little creature were the cutest ones, and at some point you noticed how so many of them involved.. him. He drew tiny moments of you and him holding hands, going on walks, sharing earphones and little cliche date stuff.

You were about to say something, but are stopped at the realization Miles was right next to you while his eyes never seemed to break contact from yours. "Miles?" You say in almost a whisper, seeing how focused his gaze was on you.

"I mean, we're both smart enough to realize it.. right?"

The urge to play dumb was strong, it really was, but Miles could see through you like he was staring at glass. That's how well he knew you, and how transparent you were with him.

"And maybe I'm stupid enough to make up delusions in my head but.. do you.. feel the same?"

The question leaves you stunned, stammering to find an answer, but the serious facade Miles kept up melts at your nervous reaction. He begins to laugh, digging through his pockets and pulls out a paper you recognize all too well, it had to be either a drawing or a poem you had written for Miles and considering one of your recent ones going missing.. if what he had in his hands was that one, it gave him more than an answer.

That realization makes you gasp, and Miles' laughter only grows stronger as you've now realized what's happening in its full extent. Miles liked you, and he knew you liked him too.

"You cheeky-" You try to grab the paper from his hands, but the tall piece of shit tip-toe's just to make sure you couldn't grab it. "Whaat? What am I, hm?" He'll playfully taunt at you, still unable to control his smile as he knows that deep down you enjoyed this banter just as much as he did.

You two continue to playfully argue for a while, laughter echoing throughout the abandoned area as hours passed on and on. The talk about either ones feelings never came to light, but you two were content with the moment, and in another time you'd talk about the confusing thing that is the feelings you both mutually share.

You had all the time in the world, right? Miles Morales wasn't going anywhere.

[m4rried2the-moon]

( pick a cup ) what do your guides want you to know?

hello again !! hope this finds you well ^^ trying to post more consistently but having trouble with questions so i kept this one simple! with an exciting summer ahead, here are some messages from your guides! take what resonates and listen carefully to your intuition.

pile one - a dark cup of joe

“ time to wake up ! ”

+ ten of swords, king of rods (rx?) (cl: king of coins, ace of coins), seven of swords (cl: queen of wands)

— your guides want you to know that what is ending is only the beginning. it's important for you to trust your new ideas and divine inspirations right now, because there is some sort of fatality fast approaching for you. this is not entirely negative, it may be a long time coming actually.

☕ for some of you, they are almost yelling at you /lh. the king of rods possibly in reverse tells me that if you are thinking about taking action else right now—don't. if this action is to break away from something that you think isn't working, hold your horses !

☕ this may very well be a test of patience. clarified by the ace and the king of coins tells me that you are starting a new project/have received a blessing and instead of nurturing and taking it at face value, you may be unsure.

☕ lastly, the queen of rods came first and the seven of swords came flying out after. what you put your energy into is what you get, no matter what. it's easy to rob yourself of this opportunity by thinking it's false or all in your head—spirit says 'take the damn cup' lol.

pile two - an aromatic cup of tea

“ let it warm your soul and strengthen you ”

+ two of swords (cl: four of cups, strength), the sun (cl: the star) and ten of cups (rx?) (cl: the world).

— your guides want you to know that a very tough decision of yours has already found its answer, but you may not have fully accepted it. it will take a significant amount of bravery to face this, perhaps it requires some meditation and strength to reach this hard truth but your strength will carry you. it already is.

☕ rejoice in pleasure, in the novelty of what you have been inspired by. let this hope pour into you, let it guide you to doing exactly what you need to do. your guides want to encourage you to go after your creative pursuits and to use the downloads you've been receiving from them. some of you may have struggled for this clarity and spirit wants you to run with it!

☕ you know your answer to what no longer serves you now, but what will you do with it? happiness and bliss show up for you when you acknowledge that even if your circumstances are discouraging right now, you have the answer you need. your guides want you to let go of juggling unnecessary responsibilities while you can for now. this may look like saying 'no' to what may drain you or take focus away from your vision of the future.

☕ lastly, your guides want you to gather as much as your wisdom and strength you can and build the courage to fight back against what you are so defeated by right now. they want you to know that there are gifts and celebrations at the end of the finish line, you have it in you and the world is at your disposal.

pile three - ah damn! spilled the coffee

“ no use crying ! ”

+ five of wands, (cl: king of wands, the fool) two of cups (cl: the chariot), ace of coins

— you guides want you to use your leadership and direction to navigate the challenges or conflict you may be facing right now. if you are currently finding yourself in the midst of chaos, take your own way out! look for a new direction, the opportunity is ripe!

☕ there is a connection that you are in right now that may be new, this could be a gateway to something very powerful. the chariot here tells me that this may have taken a lot of effort to get to this place, but now is the time to embrace it and let it flourish. or this could be after a period of hardship.

☕ might say some of you are more similar to pile two in which you are leaving what no longer serves you, too. some of you could have used this determination and divine guidance to move out of a relationship that wasn't working. some of you are moving away from a shabby relationship into a more fitting one. either way your guides are urging you to move on from unrequited relationships.

☕ lastly, if you are either moving away from a poor partner/job/choice, you are ultimately being given a second chance if you choose to explore and find better. there are always more fish in the sea!

hope this helped and you got everything you needed! if so, please don't forget to like / reblog <3

[literaila]

could you write a really fluffy peter Parker fic for Valentine’s Day (with banter ofc)

valentine, oh mine

tasm!peter x reader

a/n: this is not cute or fun or any of the things i aspire to be. it is painful. peter dies (he doesn’t). don’t read this.

*

“will you be my valentine?”

“hello, peter,” you answer, through your toothbrush. the words are deadpan. “i’m doing well, thank you. how are you?”

“better if you answer the question.”

you laugh, letting his response linger for a moment as you try to discern where, exactly, he is. your mouth tastes like spearmint, and it would be perfect to kiss him with. even though it’s monday, and almost midnight, and he shouldn’t be here.

for a whole multitude of reasons (number one being that you know he’ll keep you awake for at least a couple of hours more).

“where are you?” you ask him, listening to ruffling and a whine from the other end.

a manly whine, he might tell you, if you could see his face and make fun of it.

“stop deflecting. you don’t wanna be my valentine?” you can hear the frown.

and then there’s a horn, signaling absolutely nothing.

you spit into the sink, and put him on speaker as you rinse.

“i’ve gotta say that this is one of the more underwhelming valentine proposals i’ve gotten. you’re not even here. instead you’re…” you drawl, “where, again?”

“this is just further proof that i’m always thinking about you,” peter tells you, recalling an argument you’d had the day prior.

about how he wasn’t paying attention to you—or the conversation you were trying to have with him about one of your coworkers—but instead, according to him, thinking about you.

which did not help his case, of course. instead you’d given him the silence treatment for three minutes while he groveled—poorly.

and you doubt that he was thinking about valentine’s day when his eyes were glued to your lips the entire time.

“again,” you tell him, trying to hide the sound of a smile in your voice, “i would rather you just listen to me. answer my question and i’ll answer yours,” you bargain.

“how’s that fair? i asked first.”

“i asked second.”

peter sighs, and there’s a brief pause where he breaks up. you mess with the sound settings to no avail. up or down, his voice is distorted.

“are you—“ his voice wonders. “i was gonna tell you—“ and then a pause. and then. “are you giving me the silent treatment again?”

“cant hear you,” you hum. “somethings wrong with your phone.”

“how do you know it’s mine?” his voice enters again, breaking back and forth. another honking, and silence as he puts himself on mute.

because you’re no fool, and you know that peter would’ve answered the question already—if only to get you to answer his—if he didn’t know that you’d scold him for it.

“cause i can hear the wind while you swing,” you tease, though swallow, your voice is aiding the anger you should feel—because your boyfriend is a liar, and a traitor and you kinda hate him.

but you’re not really angry. you haven’t seen him since he left your house at six in the morning, so that’s probably why.

“i—“ there’s a pause. and then his voice is clear again. “that’s my hairdryer.”

“are you lying to me, peter?”

“it might even be the connection,” he continues, idly. “may’s been complaining about the service but i’ve been too busy to check the box, so—“

“are you still lying to me?”

you can almost see him swallow. “…no?”

“i told you not to call me when you’re out.”

“so you never want me to call you?” he asks, mock hurt. “when i’m not out, i’m always with you. i thought you liked my phone calls, and my voice if my memory serves me. someone really liked it—“

“you know what i mean.”

“do i?”

“peter parker, unless you want me to hang up—“

“okay, okay,” there’s still no swinging. “i’m sorry.”

“no, you’re not,” you whine, sitting on your bed and listening closely so he can’t trick you again.

“i actually am this time,” he swears. “i won’t do it again. but this is a very important matter.”

“swinging while talking is basically like texting and driving, and if i was doing that i’d be getting an earful from you.”

“it’s so not the same thing. first of all, spider senses, please keep up,” he tells you, laughing. “and who am i going to hurt in the open air?”

“a pigeon,” you say, almost angrily. “they’re an endangered species, you idiot.”

“they’re definitely not.”

“okay, then, yourself. who’s going to be my valentine if you slam into a wall and crack your head open?”

peter would not look cute without his skull, you remain firm on this fact.

you can hear his smile. “i knew you wanted to be my valentine.”

“before i knew you were lying to me.”

“you lie to me all of the time,” peter argues.

your brows furrow. “when?”

“when you said that you don’t like it when i call you,” he murmurs, almost soft, still teasing. “i know you do. you miss me.”

“i miss my boyfriend,” you answer, biting back some other remark about how you don’t miss him at all—honestly, you’re trying to prove that you’re not lying. “but apparently i’m talking to a superhero.”

“oh, did i forget to mention that? must’ve slipped my mind.”

“where are you now?” you ask. “it’s quiet.”

and then there’s a tap on the wall to your right.

“peter…”

“yes?”

“is that you?”

“maybe.”

“are you kidding?” you grumble, crawling on your knees to push back the curtains and open the window. you frown as you unlatch it, hands interrupted by other ones, doing the same thing. “how long have you been sitting out here?”

“since ‘are you lying?’ i think.” he says, in a terrible impression of your voice. “it’s cold.”

you pull him in by his wrist, immediately pushing him off when he tries to land on your bed on top of you.

peter pulls his mask off, smiling at you. “hi.”

“i’m mad. go take a shower.”

his fingers tip-toe up your arm, trying to get you to shiver. “are you really?” he hums.

“yes.”

“how can i make it up to you?”

“find me a better, non-lying valentine,” you tell him, pouting as you look away.

“is this supposed to be an answer?”

“why didn’t you just wait?” you ask instead. “if you were going to come here anyway, why didn’t you ask me in person instead of being a disappointment, and breaking a rule?”

“i don’t recall signing a contract…”

you groan, sitting up and crossing your legs as you look at him. unfortunately for you, his hair has fallen over his eyes just right, and you still want to kiss him.

“take me seriously.”

“i take everything you say,” he leans in, “very seriously.”

you push his nose. “you don’t.”

“i do!” he swears, grabbing your hand. “i’m listening. tell me what’s wrong.”

he says this condescendingly, because you already told him—kind of—but he knows that if you have to repeat it, you’ll break.

“this is why they say familiarity breeds contempt.”

peter smiles. “are you feeling contemptful right now?”

you nod.

he leans again, and you cant push him away. “how can i help?”

“you can apologize.”

peter’s smile grows softer as you look at him with eyes of steel, like he finds this version of you cute. your pout and your false anger, all bundled up into one perfect package.

just for him, you suppose.

he leans in some more, “i’m sorry,” he says, softly, just brushing your lips. “i was excited.”

you purse your lips, even while his are soft and teasing against them. it feels kind of like a feather brushing your skin, like peters got his own secret form of tickling you.

teasing you, like he always does. familiarity breeds contempt, and comfort, and confusion, and…

he kisses you fully, this time. a gentle peck. “i wanted to hear your voice,” he admits. “i’m impatient. i should listen to you more.”

“right…” you whisper, with him, as your only form of acknowledgement.

“i won’t call you while i’m out, okay? or i’ll pause somewhere.”

your brows are permanently fixed together. “don’t pause. just… get some headphones, or something.” you let your lips relax, finally, and they fall against his just as a consequence. “i like your voice too,” you admit, quietly, as an afterthought.

peters smile is bashful. “like wireless ones? not sure how that would work under the mask…”

“you made the suit,” you tell him, leaning back. “you cant figure it out, genius?”

“i’ll do it for you, i guess,” he sighs, but his fingertips trace the skin on both of your arms, simply because he’s that close.

“thank you.”

“are we done fighting now?”

you frown, pushing his hands away so you can cross your arms. “no. you really asked me to be your valentine over the phone?”

peter sighs, shaking his head. “i knew i should’ve gone with the skywriting.”

“or,” you say, rhetorically, “i don’t know, maybe a box of chocolates? flowers? a quick ‘hey, will you be my valentine?’ before you left this morning?”

“that’s so lame.”

“so is asking me over the phone.”

“i was excited,” peter argues. “i wanted an answer.”

“well you didn’t get one.”

“yes i did,” he tells you, finally grabbing your arm so he can pull you on top of him (because seriously, this is unfair).

“no.”

“you said i was your valentine,” he reminds you, tilting your head up so you’re looking at him.

“you’re mine,” you tell him, rolling your eyes. “i never said i was yours.”

“wow,” peter murmurs. “that might be the worst thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“please. i called you a vermin to may the other day.”

he pouts, childishly.

“ask me nicely,” you say, after a moment.

“i did.”

“ask me nicely again.”

there’s a pause where two stubborn people meet at a head—literally, head to head—and consider the prospects of losing this battle.

but peter is softer than you are, when you tease a smile on your lips, he breaks. “will you be my valentine?”

“hmm,” you ponder, looking away. “i’ll think about it. i mean, there’s a lot of options to choose from.”

peter bites your nose in retaliation and the two of you laugh until you’re dizzy

*

[imaginesmai]

Right around the corner (3) - Azriel

LISTEN I CAN EXPLAIN if you've been here for a while now, you can expect this part. If not, may I present myself - hi, I'm Mai and I'm an angst queen bitch. Fourth part already on the way, don't worry!

(1), (2), (3), (4), (5)

Plot: the turth comes out, but in a way Azriel didn't expect.

Warnings: prepare tissues.

Azriel had taken his time to process the words, and in the meanwhile, he had received so many notes from his family that he had his hands full of small paper balls.

There were notes from Feyre updating him of the screaming match between Cassian and Rhysand, long texts from Mor promising him the house was a safe place for you and that he better hurry to bring you out. Even Amren had written a brief ‘I knew it, boy’ that had him more worried than before.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t want you to meet them. He loved his family like nothing else, and knew they would only be supportive and kind to his new status. Him being mated or not didn’t change the way they saw him, but part of him – the part that had felt rejection from his mother and his blood-family, was scared.

Azriel ended up sitting in the kitchen counter in front of you with a frown and a growing headache. Even though it was late and you had had a long day, you instantly noticed his mood.

“What’s wrong?”

It wasn’t unusual for Azriel to go quiet in your presence. You had learned by then that it didn’t mean you did something wrong. Most of the times, it was his insecurities popping up randomly in his mind, the troubles of the day dragging him away from you.

And through the years, you had learned that there was nothing else to do but to stay close to him and remind him that he was there. Right with you, and that you loved him.

Still, as you stared at him that night, you noticed it wasn’t the usual frown. He snuck glances at you and moved from the couch, where he was banned, to the kitchen. You left the bowl aside and stood in front of him, one arm extended so he could hold your hand.

“How do you know Feyre?” he asked, not taking your hand.

“Feyre as… the high lady?”

“Yeah. You greeted her the other day. You two know each other?”

“Guess so. She has her art study right in front of my bakery, haven’t you noticed?” you answered, not understanding the nature of the question. “When she moved in, I baked her a welcome to the neighborhood pie and she has actually painted two of the pictures I hang on the wall”

“Feyre painted pictures for you?” Azriel raised an eyebrow. “Are you two friends?”

“Well, not friends per say, but we know each other. That’s what usually happens when you work in front of someone else’s work” you shrugged, you open hand still empty. “Why?”

“I didn’t know you knew her”

“Should you know I know her? For any specific reason?”

“It would have been nice to know you know my high lady. My brother’s mate”

“Now you know. What’s with all this ‘you know I know’? Why does it matter?”

You didn’t understand why but there was an annoyed edge on his voice that you didn’t like. As a morning person, you usually went to bed early, and any minute past midnight was a minute you were supposed to be asleep. No matter how nice it was to spend time with Azriel and how good he had made you feel an hour ago, now you were annoyed.

The male stared at you, still not answering your silent call for his hand. One of his many shadows crossed the table and jumped at the chance of tangling between your fingers. That would have been enough to make you laugh any other day.

That night, you just stared at each other.

“Az, why are you so – “

“Because you should have told me, Y/N” he cut you off. “You know how important my family is to me, and I think it’s fair to ask that if you know any of them you should tell me. So I’m prepared for this”

“What’s this exactly? Late night discoveries about my neighbors?”

Azriel was quiet for a moment, frustration clear in his features. It was a stupid argument over a stupid situation, and Azriel being on his underwear and you only on his t-shirt without panties didn’t make it any less stupid. You rarely argued, and when you did, it was you who had the pointless argument and Azriel the calm one.

His shadows moved behind the couch and dumped in front of you a bunch of papers. They were all wrinkled and Azriel didn’t have time to hide them or think about how to approach the situation before a new one popped out of thin air. It landed next to your open hand, his shadow catching it and unfolding the content.

Does she eat cereal straight from the box? Is it why you’re hiding her?

You didn’t need to think hard to know it was talking about you, and who the note belonged to. In the past, Rhysand had sent notes to Azriel while you were having a shower together, in bed together, and one had even appeared inside your oven while he was helping you around.

“Feyre told them about you” Azriel explained, having read the note upside down. “And because I didn’t know you knew her, now they are deeply offended and want to meet you”

It took you a while to make sense to his words, because you couldn’t find the problem past you not telling him about Feyre. Quickly, you read some of the notes where Cassian threatened Azriel and Rhysand demanded his presence. They were friendly notes, no harm in them. Still, you couldn’t understand the utter sadness until you realized the meaning behind his annoyance.

Finally, you pulled your hand back to your side, not with little resistance from the shadow. You must have opened the bond channel because Azriel frowned, hit with sadness instead of the usual love.

The first note, where Rhysand explained that Feyre had told him, was what brought it all together.

“You haven’t told them you have a mate”

It occurred to you that you had believed it done with no proofs. You didn’t mind Azriel being at your house, living in your apartment. You didn’t mind having separate Starfall and lives. You didn’t mind either when he left for a family dinner and kissed you goodbye, because you understood his need of privacy, of having something that was just his.

What you didn’t understand until that moment that he hadn’t even told them you existed. And through all the reasons that ran to your mind at his silence, you couldn’t pick just one.

“It’s not that they don’t know me. They don’t know you’re mated”

“You agreed when I said I need to take things slowly. That I needed time” he blurted out suddenly, your sadness making space for his annoyance. “The bond was a surprise for me. I didn’t want to rush things”

“Azriel it’s been six years. Six! It’s not a casual fling or a one-night stand” you tried to voice your hurt, your sadness. “It’s not the same not meeting them that being a secret”

“It’s not like I keep you a secret. They haven’t asked and I haven’t – “

“Because you haven’t told them! What – How do you explain the days you spend here? And the… I – Azriel, we’ve been dating for six years and they haven’t asked?”

“They’re used to me sneaking around”

“For months?” you chuckled. “We were locked here for months after we mated. How did you explain that?”

His words were background noise because, above his absences, there was something you realized they should have noticed. Something anyone noticed from mated pairs as soon as they left the house. White noise filled your ears as he tried to excuse himself by talking about missions.

About your safety, about the worry of something happening to you if they discovered you were his mate.

Azriel blurred in front of you as realization hit you and tears filled your eyes. You could barely hold it together as you spoke.

“You’ve been hiding the mating bond” your breath hitched, because if there was something more important than your bakery, it was your bond. “They should have smelt it. But you’ve been hiding it”

“I didn’t hide it, please, don’t say it like that” his voice broke at the end, willing you to listen to him.

“Right. Because you can’t hide the bond from them unless you don’t accept it” you saw the moment your words hit him, the guilt in the way his shadows almost clouded your vision and his wings flared. “You didn’t accept the bond”

Azriel didn’t answer and, worse than any other betrayal or pain, it broke your heart. You remembered offering him the lemon pie, him tearing up and eating. Accepting the bond was an individual decision, one he should have made years ago – just like you did.

You still shared it; you still were mates. The only difference was that, while you proudly loved him and adored each part of his body and soul, he had rejected your smell on him, your imprint on his own.

An invisible hand cut off your air supply and your breath hitched. You covered your mouth with your hand and muffled the sob, but he felt the exact moment your heart broke. Even if he didn’t show it to the world, he could still feel you. Your feelings, your essence. His own eyes teared up and now he extended his hand forward.

A silent invitation, the same you had given him so many times when he was in need of comfort, of love.

But that time, you didn’t reach forward nor acknowledge the shadows that tried to pull you closer to him.

“Get out”

“Darling”

“Get out” you pointed a shaky finger towards the door.

“Y/N, please. It’s not what you’re thinking” he tried to explain, his voice broken by his sorrow. “I accepted the bond. I just – “

“Get the fuck out now!”

The bowl that you had been filling with lettuce, salmon and other vegetables flew from the desk to where he was standing. His shadows, by their own consciousness or his master’s, didn’t stop it as it crashed against his chest. It spilled all over his naked chest, and before he could clean it, there was another tray with grilled pork on your hand.

Azriel’s last look to you was of pure despair and sorrow. He winnowed away before the second tray could hit him, leaving you with his shadows already cleaning up the mess.

As soon as he was out of sight, you fell down to your knees and sobbed.

-

He didn’t have a plan, and when he winnowed away, the last thing on his mind was the sound of your heart breaking. There was no way he would go to his house and face his family, not when he wasn’t even sure what had happened in your apartment. Couldn’t start to comprehend the pain he had caused you and how much he hated himself for it.

So, without planning to, he ended up in the cabin.

The old wooden walls and ceiling greeted him, different from the ones he remembered from his past. Feyre had added drawings everywhere, there were clothes scattered around, and food that was still edible.

No matter how familiar the sight was, it offered him no comfort.

Azriel dragged his wings through the floor and sat on the couch. Propping his elbows on his knees, he hid his face as the first tear rolled down. Followed by many more.

He replayed your hurt voice once more, your face. It hadn’t been his intention to reject the bond, not really. But he hadn’t run away from it.

It took him two weeks of uncertainty to know that he hadn’t taken it the way you had. While you radiated with his scent, people didn’t ask him. He walked past Cassian during training and his friend just teased him for being disappeared for a month. Rhysand commented about having to report to him every now and then, and Amren didn’t even acknowledge his presence.

That was how he discovered that he had to accept his part of the mating process. He had to be proud, to want it, in order to complete it.

But you had been so happy, so full of joy and love, that Azriel had feared that telling you about it would make you sad. Eventually, he had learned how he should have done it – but at that moment, he didn’t know. Besides, he could still sneak whenever he wanted to without explanations. So he hadn’t said anything.

The first year rolled by, and he spent a good amount of days panicking about how to deal with the situation. The second year passed and you didn’t ask about it, neither did his family. By the fourth year, he had almost forgotten about it.

Azriel’s loud sob broke the silence of the cabin. His chest contracted and his body shock. It was different from any type of suffering, of pain, he had ever felt. He could still feel the echo of your own through the bond, could hear your cries in the distance.

In the lonely cabin, under the moon light, the shadowsinger sobbed and cried until his voice was raw. He was angry at himself, at his past and his traumas, even angry at you. Because now that he knew what it felt to be complete, to be happy and safe in someone’s love, he couldn’t bear the thought of not having it.

His body gravitated to the side and he curled himself in a ball, still in his underwear. It reminded him of when he was a kid and would try to hide himself in the dark cell, cowering in his fear and desperation.

As if he was a kid all over again, Azriel let his wings cover his body and cried. Cried until he couldn’t remember his name, until he was begging the Cauldron to turn back time and let him accept the bond. Carry you on his arm around Velaris and don’t let the fear take control of his life.

He felt like punching a hole through the wall. Like flying thousand feet up and letting go in free fall. Maybe get into a bar fight and let everything out. But his body was anchored to that couch, to that pain. Azriel pressed his closed fists into his chest, trying to relief some of the pressure.

While he wondered if that was what having his heart ripped from his chest fell, he forgot to keep his mental shields up.

Letting Rhysand in.

-

The house of wind had been chaos for a few hours.

Rhysand had tried to manage the situation by himself, wide awake in bed while processing Feyre’s words. He willed himself to sleep, to rest and leave the pondering for the morning. But when he tried to close his eyes, he could see Azriel covered in blood and killing an entire camp because an illegal wing clipping. He could notice the faint, new smell in the house that he hadn’t noticed.

If he had his eyes open, he couldn’t help but look at Nyx’s new toy.

So, Rhysand had woken up Cassian, after Azriel hadn’t answered his notes. And Cassian had been mad. Angry, furious, raging. The general had talked nonsense about berries for a while and then he begged Rhysand to wake up Feyre and find Azriel to interrogate them.

And, who was the high lord to deny a late-night gossiping session?

Feyre had been mad but she had told them that Azriel had a mate that worked in front of her art studio, in a bakery. That you were nice and cheerful, that you had been mated for six years.

That was when Cassian lost it and woke up the whole house.

Now, all the members of the inner circle had gathered in the council room with their pajamas on.

“Maybe it’s not true. Feyre, you might have had imagined it”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Feyre raised her eyebrows at Cassian.

“I’m just saying he would have told me! We’re brothers. And we don’t keep secrets in this house. Never.”

“You don’t keep secrets” Amren cut him off, not looking at him. “Your bean brain is too simple to keep any type of secrets from us, but that doesn’t mean all of us are exhibitionist”

“I’m not – “

“You are an exhibitionist. You announce everything, Cas. Even a fart” Mor corrected him before he could defend himself.

“Sorry for being kind enough to not keep secrets from my family” he frowned, turning to look at Rhys. “You keep secrets from me?”

“I don’t keep secrets from you” Rhys assured him, half a smile.

“He threw the sword you gifted Nyx for his birth and told you Bryaxis took it so you wouldn’t look for it”

Feyre looked at her mate with a raised eyebrow, daring him to say anything else. With a wide-awake Nyx in her arms, she looked at threatening as the Hybern army. She had yet to talk to him privately, but Rhysand knew he was up for a long talk. So he bit his lip and turned to Cassian. Who, of course, looked completely broken and defeated.

The rest of the group was silent, barely keeping their smiles to themselves. Even Nesta, who had a hand on his shoulder, was looking at Feyre with approval. Cassian stared at Rhysand for a long second before he talked.

“It was a nice sword”

“For a teenager, maybe. For a baby, not” Feyre answered again. “Weren’t you just talking about Azriel’s betrayal and secrets?”

“I, for one, knew he was hiding something” Amren commented for the third time. “Just saying I noticed. And you didn’t”

“Not all of us are creeps that stare and don’t talk. We have social lives to take care of” Mor said.

“Some of you do talk. Maybe too much”

Rhysand tuned out Amren and Mor argument when he felt a crack through Azriel’s mental barriers. He had been tugging at them softly to know where his brother was. Feyre had talked him out of the idea of barging in uninvited and demanding answers – at least, he had talked Amren and Mor out of it. Rhysand and Cassian were still unconvinced.

That was why he had kept a talon poking at his mental barriers since the argument started, thinking it wouldn’t be successful.

But then, Azriel opened it unconsciously and Rhysand brought a hand up to his chest.

Everyone fell quiet as the high lord scrunched his eyebrows and pressed his lips together, not ready for the wave of emotions and pain Azriel was feeling at the moment.

Feyre’s hand was instantly on him, Nyx looking up to his father with a pout that would surely turn into a crying session soon. Before the baby could start crying or any of his friends could ask him about it, Rhysand accepted Feyre’s help and got up from his chair.

“He’s at the cabin” he announced, already summoning his darkness to swallow Cassian and him there. “We’ll keep you updated”

Nyx’s loud cry was the last thing they heard as they winnowed away. And the first one they heard from the cabin, was Azriel’s broken one.

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