#people desire freedom tiny sparkle of happiness

[tiivka]

preparing for russian literature exam is like oh what a lovely sunny day i feel like studing so happy and then you analyze Requiem by Ahmatova for like 3 hours learning about war and death and soviet repressions children crying in the background

[jimlingss]

Dynasty

➜ Words: 17.4k

➜ Genres: 50% Angst, 35% Smut, 15% Fluff, Historical!AU

➜ Summary: It’s no secret that the Emperor is infertile. But even so, a girl is selected every three months and brought to become his concubine in hopes of conceiving the next heir. This time, it’s you. And in order to prevent execution, Jeon Jungkook might just aid you in conception.

➜ Notes: Inspired by the movie the Treacherous (2015)

➜ Warnings: Brief depictions of reluctant sexual intercourse, dubious consent, emphasis on impregnation, sloppy seconds, creampies, pregnancy. Reader discretion is advised.

“Absolutely not!” 

You stand at once, chair knocked back to the ground in a clatter, unable to believe what you were hearing. Perhaps it was a mistake. Perhaps your ears hear wrongly. But by the way your older brother’s brows are drawn together, marring his usually good-natured features, you know you’re not mistaken.    He had worn the same expression as the day of your parents' massacre.   Your voice is shrill as you protest and cry, “I won’t! I can’t! T-This— this is ridiculous! How could you even….how could you even….”   You are Seokjin’s younger sister — his blood, flesh, bones. Family. And you were about to be traded in like you were no one to him. A chess piece. A part of his bigger plan that you wanted nothing to do with.   Jungkook looks at you with an impassive expression, one you cannot read, but you pay him no mind. Seokjin, however, looks to him and nods his head. They are silent in their communication, and then Jungkook takes his leave until there it is only your shadow and Seokjin’s that flickers against the wall with every movement of the dim candlelight.   He begins with a soft voice. A soothing one as if you were a child.    “There’s no choice, Y/N.”   “There is always choice,” you emphasize as tears start to stream down your cheeks. “Do you really want to send me off to that...that disgusting monster? Do you really want me to be used? If you care about me as a younger sister, if you care about me at all, you wouldn’t be doing this.”   His dark eyes meet yours. “The decision has been made, Y/N. You have been chosen. But this is the way we can make our parents happy. This is the only way for them to reach peace.”   You sob, collapsing onto the ground. Seokjin does little to comfort you. He knows there’s nothing he can do after this betrayal.   You hold your face in your hands, catching the tears that rack through your frame. It is silent except for the noises of your wails muffled through your sleeves.    After minutes of devastation and grief that stutters out of you, your hands drop to look at him. And your voice swoops into a murmur, one that is private, kept between the two of you. You beg for his honesty from sibling to sibling, without duties or titles. “Is...is t-there no other way?”   Your brother deflates, refusing to look at you. You notice the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, how he swallows hard to answer. “There must always be sacrifices made in times of a revolution and this is ours.”   “No.” You shake your head. “This is mine.”

There is a knock at your door.   “Go away, Seokjin,” you shout at him without regard for sibling hierarchy. In your anger, he has long lost the respect that goes along with the status of being your older brother. “I said I wasn’t hungry!”   But in spite of your bitterness, the door opens anyhow.   It’s Jungkook who has appeared in place of Seokjin, doe eyes and dark hair tied into a high ponytail by a black ribbon that matches his robbed attire and the scabbard by his side.   “I saw the light in your room,” he says simply.   You lift your eyes away from the book you were copying, the last task that you wanted to finish, and your gaze remains cold on the man.    You detest Jungkook.    He is Seokjin’s friend, not yours and not a childhood one. Your brother had met him shortly after arriving in this town years ago. But you do not know him well. You resent him merely because he represents every manner that Seokjin has changed in the ways you hate most.   Before they met, Seokjin was still the brother you knew. Kind-hearted. Mischievous. Protective. There was no rebellion group, talk of treason, risk of harm. The Seokjin you knew would’ve never thrown you away like this.   “Are you ready for tomorrow’s journey,” he asks.   “There’s no reason not to be.” Jungkook is quiet and conniving. You know the only reason he has come out of his way to check on your well-being in the middle of the night is for his assumption that you are a flight risk. You suppose it might be natural to have those suspicions. Any girl in your position would run. But you quickly dissipate his worries if it means he’ll leave. “You don’t need to worry that I’m going to run. I wouldn’t do that to Jin.”   He makes no changes in his expression. Always blank. Always emotionless.   “The journey will be long. You should get some rest.”   “I can take care of myself.”   He remains silent for a moment. But you return to your work and when you look up again, he’s gone, having finally left you in your own misery.   //   When the first blush of dawn arrives, you get dressed in your best attire and gather the little belongings you have. They’re already waiting for you in front of the house, not allowing you a moment to yourself to relish in freedom any longer. There is a horse, a carriage, and four members of the group you don’t recognize along with Jungkook to journey with you.   Seokjin waits there too, but you can’t look him in the eye.   He knows you're upset, you can tell. Neither of you say much to each other, but you mutter a half-hearted farewell.   You can hear the way the corner of his mouth gently quirks by the sound of his voice. “I’ll see you soon enough, Y/N.”   You turn away, walking to your carriage where the horse is already neighing and becoming fussy. But then your steps slow. You hesitate getting in and Jungkook stares at you, waiting patiently, never once pushing you on.   At once, you turn around. “Jin!”   You call out to your brother and he turns around before stumbling. A giggle streams out of his chest after you’ve thrown yourself at him in an embrace as if you were still children. He hugs you back, arms around your body, frame overtaking yours, and he squeezes you tight.   You shut your eyes to savour the fleeting moment.   He leans down, murmuring, “I’m sorry.”   But you shake your head, unable to utter a word for fear of crying again.   “We should get a move on before it gets any later,” one of the members calls out and it’s your reminder of where you’re headed.   You pull apart from Seokjin. He smiles tenderly and brushes a stray strand of hair away from your face.   The carriage ride is shaky. Every bump and crack of the dirt road is felt by you ten folds, the wheels wobbling and the horse’s disregard makes it difficult for you to rest easy. But you don’t dare utter a complaint, not when you’re in the company of unfamiliar people. You do, however, pull back the curtain of the square window to look at the land and let in fresh air.   Eventually, there’s a break called. The tiny carriage comes to a halt and Jungkook is the one who brushes open the large curtain. He catches you off guard, peering in with his large eyes that seemingly sparkle naturally.   “We’re going to take a small rest.”   “Okay.”   He helps guide you out and you notice the other people are either on the ground resting their feet or by the stream, taking a drink of water.   “Are you alright?”   You nod. There’s a moment of serene quietness, the birds chirping around the trees, the rustling of leaves. Jungkook drinks from his leather pouch and then hands it to you to quench your thirst.   You sip it, soothing your throat and gather the courage to utter his name— “Jungkook.” He turns to you. “Do you know what’s going to happen to me?”   “You’ll be introduced as one of the minister’s nieces. He’s been aligned with us for years. You’ll be inspected and bathed, and then there will be a ceremony and then….”   “I’ll be bedded,” you complete his sentence for him.   Jungkook remains silent.   The Emperor is infertile. It’s a truth no one dares to utter, but it’s been fifteen years since he began his reign and he has yet to produce a child no matter how many consorts and concubines has entered the palace. The Empress has not bore a child either.   And nine years ago, there was an official decree. Every three months since, a girl is selected and brought in. If she doesn’t get pregnant within the time frame, she is executed for failing to fulfill her duty, for treason.   You are the next one.   The one who has to preoccupy the Emperor to the best of your abilities.   “You don’t need to worry,” Jungkook says, perhaps reading the expression on your face, but you slap his hand away when he reaches out.   “Of course I’ll worry,” you spit at him in animosity. “I’m going to die.”   The man’s brows draw tightly together, his lips lopsided. “It’ll be over before they can get to you.”   You say nothing more, returning to the small carriage before you can start to sob like a child and further be humiliated.   //   Night falls and camp is set up with little hardships. By the afternoon of tomorrow, you would have already arrived at the palace, perhaps straight to the Emperor’s bed. The thought makes you nauseated, wanting to crawl out of your own skin and hide from your body.   You know you’re being selfish. In the bigger picture, your desires don’t matter. If anything, you should be happy to give yourself up for the rebellion. For the common good. But you can’t.    “Are you not going to eat?” one of the female guards asks you with a smile and you lift your eyes away from the blazing fire whose heat has pressed against your cheeks.    You look around to the four members of the group that has been commissioned to protect you, their faces illuminated by the glow of the flames. You wonder what sacrifices they had made to be here, what led them here in the first place.   “I-I can’t.” You stand up and all of their heads, including Jungkook’s, turn to you. “I’m sorry. I….I need a moment to myself.”   You quicken your pace towards the forest, trying to escape their prying gazes, the burden that has been placed upon your shoulders. It’s hard to breathe. It’s as if the smog of the fire has bloomed inside of your lungs, constricting your chest, forming a thick lump in your throat.   The darkness of the forest envelopes you and it’s almost comforting.   That is until there’s a branch snapping behind you, and you quickly spin around.   “I knew you weren’t okay.”   “Go away, Jungkook.”   He remains silent, but you can see the outline of him coming closer towards you. He is not dissuaded no matter how much you have pushed him away from you, no matter how rude you’ve been to him from the start. You’re not sure if he pities you or he—   “Can I comfort you in place of Seokjin?” Jungkook requests in an earnest murmur, humble and cautious. “You wish he was here instead of me, don’t you?”   You’re taken aback, brought to speechlessness.   The two of you end up seated by the creek on a wooden log. The horizon is full of stars, allowing you to see enough to watch the water that rushes past in a calm hum, soothing your turmoil.   “I’m afraid.”   “Of what?”   “I don’t know what to do. How to capture the Emperor’s attention. How to be...bedded.”   “You need to be strong.”   You rise to your feet at once, biting back angrily, “I’ve never even been touched by a man! How am I supposed to be strong?!” It’s easy for him to say. It always is to the outsider.   He doesn’t know what this means to you. You’ll never be able to find a husband after this. The peaceful life you dreamt of will be gone.    You will forever be stained as the Emperor’s previous consort, his whore or you will end up dead.    You’re not sure which is worse.   “How am I supposed to know what to do?” Your voice is shrill, desperate and full of pain as if you are asking Jungkook for an actual answer to your predicament.   Jungkook stands and places his firm hand on your shoulder. “There,” he says after a moment when you’ve calmed down, “you’ve been touched by a man.”   Irritation surges through you again at how lightly he’s taken your strife. “You know that’s not what I meant—”   Then you’re suddenly spun to face him, a strong grip at your waist. Your words become muted through the soft press of Jungkook’s lips. Your whimper is muffled by his mouth. It’s chaste. Careful. He allows you room to breathe, to feel the velvet texture of his lips or to pull away if you so choose to.    But you don’t move. Your eyes become half-lidded, gazing into his doe eyes that seem to be full of stars. Your hands come to grip his broad shoulder, his placed on the dips of your body so gently as if he were afraid to break you. And your heart swells dangerously inside your chest.   After a moment of his mouth moving against yours in a sweet kiss, Jungkook pulls apart.   Almost immediately, you tug him back to you again, not wanting the moment to end. You kiss him fervently and he lowly hums inside his chest, tongue peeking at the seam of your mouth, urging you to grant him access. It’s unsightly, the two of you unmarried and holding one another so intimately in the dark during this time of night. If anyone knew, it would be shameful.    But it’s only you and Jungkook in this small space.   Your lips part, allowing his hot tongue to lick into your mouth. And he angles his head, happily deepening the kiss. It makes you gasp for air, becoming breathless, but he doesn’t relent. Jungkook presses forward eagerly like he can’t help himself anymore. His hands come to feel up your body, the softness of your flesh through your clothing, the curves of your hips, the swell of your breasts. Your arms loop around his neck, back arching into his firm body. You relish in the sound of soft smacking filling the forest, feeling your face heat as his scent surrounds you.   And when you moan his name again in a desperate whine — “J-Jungkook.” — his lips start to trail down your jaw to your neck. He holds you as you lean into him. You pant, chest rising and falling, and you have half a mind to realize that your clothes have loosened.   The man begins to suck a spot at the juncture of your neck by your exposed collarbone, claiming you possessively. Your entire body heats for him, your stomach fluttering. His name befalls your lips again in a whine and this time, it seems to snap him from his trance.   Jungkook pulls away from you.    Enough distance that if your arms stretched, it would barely be able to reach him.   He wipes his sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. “We...we should go back,” he says, winded.   You merely nod, not uttering a single word. The two of you don’t need to speak to know that this can’t be continued further. It wouldn’t be good for either of you.   But you’re still stunned as you follow him back to where the others are. Your eyes trace Jungkook’s backside and you nibble into your swollen lips. The taste of cinnamon lingers.   //   The capital is close — you can tell by the way travelers aren’t as sparse and the rich attire that adorns their body. Their expressions are bright and friendly, innocent from the fear of theft or strangers stealing their food. There are no hollowed eyes and cheeks peering at you blankly, no hands clasped together to silently beg for some grains to satisfy the shriveling stomachs.   By afternoon, the carriage is brought to a halt again.   “I’ll be going ahead first,” Jungkook announces as he sits on top of his horse. “It’ll seem less suspicious.”   The other seem to take little issue, but before Jungkook rides off into the distance, his gaze lingers on you. The two of you stare at one another for a moment, one where you’re not sure if you should bid farewell to him or not, one where you wonder when the next time is going to be.   But before you can utter a single syllable, he turns and whips the reins. The horse gallops off, hooves marked in the dirt. You stare at his backside diminishing before you’re called back into the carriage to carry on.   You arrive no later.   The palace is grander than anything you’ve ever witnessed, stretching across the horizon. The red roof and golden trim are vivid against the town even from the distance. Once the guards at the stone wall are briefly spoken to, the magnificent gates creak open and you’re brought into a different world, one protected from outside life. There are hundreds of servants with downcast heads and folded hands scattering across the vast courtyard, winding pavilion paths bordering each structure. Even from peering out the tiny window, your neck aches with how much you have to crane your neck to see it all.    But you quickly snap out of your awe.   This isn't paradise. It’s your prison.   The gates close behind you, trapping you in its walls and after a minute, the carriage halts the final time.   “Consort Y/N, from the Park family.” Your title is declared and the curtain is roughly pulled back. You brace yourself as you’re guided out and you come face to face with two men, both middle-aged, and two women, the younger one keeping her head down and her hands folded.   Instantly, you lower your eyes with a polite smile and dip down. “It is a pleasure to be here. I am grateful to serve my duty.”    You maintain a soft-spoken voice, barely above a timid whisper. It feels foreign to act this way, but not completely unfamiliar. Even if your title has been stripped away and your family name has been wiped, you still are of aristocratic blood.   “Oh my! I haven’t seen you in so long!” One of the middle-aged men approaches you with half-moon eyes and a plump face. You’ve been spoken to enough that you know the minister’s name is Park Jimin and he’s supposed to be your uncle. “You’ve grown so much!”   “You look as healthy as I remember, uncle.” You offer a brighter smile and he chuckles heartily.   “Do I? I’m glad then. I think I’ve packed on a few pounds since your mother last saw me, but don’t tell her that or she may send me some more medication.”   In the midst of the lighthearted conversation, you realize that you’re being scrutinized by the other man. His hair is as dark as his eyes, gruff around his mouth and chin but his features are sharp. He stands with his chin high, his spine straightened, his arms behind his back. His robes are a deep violet, silks luxurious and commanding attention. You’ve seen him before.   Jung Hoseok. The man who has stood in your family’s courtyard with the same posture as each member was brought out and executed. You had witnessed it from the gaps of the weaved basket that you were hidden in until Seokjin covered your eyes with his small hands. It was fifteen years ago, when you were merely five. But you still remember the iron stench of blood well.    The memory and his boring gaze makes you break into a sweat. It’s as if he’s tearing you apart limb by limb, trying to read your intentions and consider if you’re a threat. Fear drains blood from your face. And perhaps he notices because a moment later, he hums and smirks.   “Let’s not waste all day here.” Hoseok turns away. “Minister Park, there are many matters to attend to. Your greetings can continue later.”   “O-Of course.”   Hoseok glances at the older woman standing beside him and she nods, addressing you, “Come with me.”   “From now on, you are to serve the Emperor. I am going to assume that the Park family has taught you proper etiquette.” The head servant lady continues walking and you struggle to keep up with her and the servant. You don’t glance at the members who took you here as they retreat appropriately. From now on, you’re on your own. “If you step out of line, there is little anyone will be able to do for you. The Empress is difficult to please, but as long as you do what you’re told and say nothing more, then your time will be more pleasant.”   You’re brought into a room with two more female servants and the door is quickly slid shut.    “Strip.”   “P-Pardon me?”   The lady huffs in annoyance and steps forward. Her hands reach out and she begins to tug the ribbons of your clothes. You’re startled, immediately stumbling back out of her grasp. “I-I can do it.”   “You should get used to it,” she says as you shed your outer and inner coat. “There’s no point in being embarrassed anymore.”   Still, your fingers are slow to remove your clothing. After a moment, you’ve rid of your clothes, only keeping your modesty by the last thin white layer that hides your breasts and naked torso from plain view.   It seems to be enough and the woman begins to inspect your skin. She rounds you, examining you from head to toe. Then she holds your arm, lifting them at every angle, making sure there are no wounds or rashes that could infect the Emperor. Her eyes, however, eventually fall to your neck. Right at the spot where you remember Jungkook kissed you hard enough to bruise and your face heats at the memory.    “I was accidentally bitten by a bug yesterday on my way here,” you murmur to explain the subtle lilac stain. “I apologize for being so careless.”   “Nothing that won’t fade then,” she states and you breathe a silent sigh of relief. But then the woman suddenly grabs a hold of your cheeks in one hand. She tilts your head to look up into her eyes and she studies your face carefully. She hums after a moment and lets you go.   You blink at her. “Is there something wrong?”   “You’re one of the prettier ones, that’s all.” The woman speaks softly as if it’s a shame — a shame that you’ve been brought here as the Emperor’s consort and that you couldn’t be wedded properly. You’re unable to dwell on her pity when the other girls take you by the arms and guide you to follow the woman when she walks off. The door slides open into an adjacent bedroom. “You’re going to be washed, cleaned, thoroughly. There’s not much time. You must be prepared for tonight.”   Your feet stop, blood running cold. “Tonight?”   The lady turns around, her gaze more sympathetic than before. “There’s no time to be wasted.”   You’re taken roughly, bathed in milky water with flowers plucked from the royal garden and rigorously scrubbed by two other servant girls until your own skin feels raw. Your nails are trimmed, hair combed before being looped and braided into a half-updo, holding golden hairpins that you would’ve never dreamed of ever having. The robes that are slid on you are soft silks, a light blush pink that matches the peony flowers your mother once had in her own garden. And your lips are pressed with red pigment, eyes lined, cheeks dusted with a rosy shade.   When they’re finished, you don’t recognize the person you see in the mirror.   “The Emperor isn’t difficult to please, but one must know not to step out of line.”   “I understand.”   “All hail Empress Soojin!” There’s a clamour outside and the doors abruptly open. Instantly, the servants, including the head servant woman, sweep back and fold their hands together, bowing their heads. You also look to the ground, dipping down in the presence of the Empress.   “You must be the new girl. Lift your head,” she says and you come to meet cat-eyes narrowed in on you. The Empress is dressed in crimson robes with golden swirls, her dark hair in an updo with pins and luxurious decorations. But she is not worthy of her title from her clothing alone. Her aura is intimidating, her expression unyielding to anyone in the room. She carries herself like she knows she was born of importance, that the mandate of Heaven resides on her shoulders.   Empress Soojin looks at you with a scrutinizing eye that makes you fearful. But then she smiles.   “What’s your name?”   “Park Y/N, Your Majesty.”   “What do your parents do?”   “They are nobles. They have some land in the East. We grow wheat for Your Majesty.” The lies are easy, all part of a narrative that isn’t yours.   Her smiles eases even more. “Do a good job.”   “Yes.”   Empress Soojin is kind — more than what you expected someone in her position to be. You would not know how to feel if you were meeting yet another girl your husband was trying to conceive with. But you’re not foolish enough to be put off guard. You know far better than to fall for her facade.   At the end of the day, she is your enemy. She might poison you or kill you if she so chooses. And you know that your child will also be her child. If you do fall pregnant by some miracle, the baby would be taken away from you and given to her. To grow with her. To call her mother.   But you don’t dwell on these thoughts or let it be known.    Empress Soojin leaves once she’s satisfied with your appearance and a veil is put over you as the sun starts to dip over the horizon. The ceremony is about to begin, the jovial music already playing in the distance and muffled through the walls.    “It’s time.”   You’re led out of the room, lugging your heavy robes with you. But as you look up, your breath hitches in your throat.    Doe eyes stare into yours past the translucent veil.    Jungkook is dressed in navy robes with the royal emblem on it, his hair brought into a ponytail with a sheathed sword by his side. Something lodges into your throat. But you try not to let your eyes linger too long on him. After all, here he isn’t your brother’s friend or the companion on your journey. Jungkook is the Emperor’s guard. You are merely the Emperor’s new consort.   “I’m here to escort you by the Emperor’s orders.”   You don’t speak a word as you walk alongside him. Neither does he.   But when no one’s watching, you steal a glance at Jungkook from the corner of your eye and find that he’s peeking at you too.   The moment is too short.   The throne room is grandiose, golden pillars spiraling upwards to hold the high ceilings. The room is full of ministers sitting by and eating, young girls dancing to the deafening beat of the drums and the melody of the flutes. But even from the distance, you can see the Emperor seated at the throne beside the Empress and Jung Hoseok who stands to his right.    Your hand tightens into a fist until your nails have sunk into your palm.   “All hail Consort Y/N!”   You come to the bottom of the steps where Jungkook leaves you, resuming to the side of the stairs, and you lower yourself on your knees. “It is my honour to serve you, Your Majesty.”   Your expression remains impassive, demure perhaps. But inside you, the rage ignites.   Emperor Minseok who stood by and did nothing as the Kim Family, your family, was massacred. Left behind two children on accident to fend for themselves. Left the nation to soil as he was kept inside ravishing young girls and indulging in pleasures.    He isn’t an Emperor. He does not have the Mandate of Heaven.    He is a puppet.   Emperor Minseok’s eyes light. He scrambles upwards and pushes Empress Soojin aside, making her wince. But he still moves past her to sprint down the stairs and comes to you like a child getting a new toy.   Instantaneously, your veil is thrown off.   The child-like man gasps in excitement. “You’re pretty!”   Hoseok, the person you know well as the mastermind orchestrating the entire court and country, the king’s personal advisor, approaches with a smile. “I am glad you are satisfied with the new girl, Your Majesty. But you must show restraint.”   The Emperor enthusiastically nods, but still takes your hand. He pulls you up the stairs and leads you to sit on the other side of him, something the Empress is visibly mortified at in spite of staying quiet.    “Continue the celebration,” he announces and the music commences once more with the pleasant laughter of the ministers. Minister Park has a twinkle in his smile and slightly raises his cup towards you before taking a sip. Jungkook, on the other hand, faces forward with a blank expression as if he were a statue. “What’s your name?”   Your eyes tear away from the doe-eyed man. “My name is Y/N. I am Park Minister’s niece, sire.”   There’s no reason to hide your first given name. It’s not like they would know who you and Seokjin are.   The ceremony and dancing continues, held as an excuse to welcome you and give fortune to tonight’s conception. In reality, it’s for those in the court to indulge themselves. The Emperor fawns over you the entire time, asking many questions and trying to get you to eat to which you force yourself to swallow down the food. You’re nauseated, especially with the times he touches you, when he wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his chest, but you retain a shy disposition to not arouse suspicion of your true feelings.   It ends much too soon.   “His Majesty will be here shortly,” the servant informs you as you’re brought into the bedroom and before you can get in another word, the doors shut.   They’re listening — you know they are. Maybe other girls have run before you, tried to flee while they still had the chance. But no matter how strong the urge is, your feet stay rooted into the ground.    The bed is revolting to look at. The golden sheets that seem to reek of a luxury that you have never known and now imprison you. You feel sick, like you might throw up, but you hold it in.   Your eyes shut tight, trying to regain control of your breath, trying to dispel away your worries.   It will be quick. It will be over. It won’t change anything about who you are. You will survive.   This is something you must do.   The doors open with Emperor Minseok drunkenly stumbling inside after grabbing a hold of the door frame. He haphazardly slides it shuts and giggles once his gaze has set upon you. You swallow hard, moving back on instinct. He grins and bumbles forward.   “You’re so pretty, huh?” He strips off his overcoat and you fall to the bed, silently seated and gripping the edge. “C’mon, you can say something. Won’t scare you away, kitty cat.”   Emperor Minseok pushes you back and climbs over you with the carelessness of an eager but intoxicated man. He stinks of alcohol and you hold your breath, looking away. He snickers and then frantically pushes the many layers of your dress up as if he doesn’t want to waste any more time.   Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, but you comply, like a dead fish against the sheets. Your eyes shut tight and you think about what it means to make sacrifices...   The Emperor tugs his drawers down in one swoop and aligns his cock against your folds. His hips at once jut forward without warning and your teeth grit, holding in your pained whimper as he enters into you. It burns, aching to the point where your eyes are stinging. He groans above you, withdraws, thrusts into you once and then he’s coming.   As quick as five seconds.    The Emperor groans, eyes shut tight, and then he collapses on top of you.   It takes a moment, for you to gasp for air, to come back to your senses and then you’re shoving the sweaty man off of your body, freeing yourself of his heavy weight. Emperor Minseok snores, already worn himself out, and you curse at him silently while you pull the layers of your dress down.   It’s tempting.   You want to kill him — and it would be easy to do so. But it would mean your death, Seokjin’s everlasting grief over it and the likelihood that someone else will become Jung Hoseok’s puppet.   So you gather your wits and slide off the bed until you’re seated on the floor.   //   In the middle of the night, there’s a shadow at the doorway and a soft murmur of your name.   You grab a loose silk cover to wrap your body and open the door. The candle has long been blown out but you haven’t slept, stayed on the ground while the Emperor snorts in his slumber. You hadn’t expected to see anyone, not until morning at least, but it’s surprising to see Jungkook.   Although you’re not sure if that surprise is pleasant or not.   “What are you doing here?” you ask in a hushed tone, shutting the door behind you and wrapping your arms around your torso, away from the cold wind that brushes through.   If anyone saw him here, it could ruin everything.    You don’t know why someone like Jungkook would take that risk.   “I know. I just…” The more you allow your eyes to adjust to the darkness, the better you are at being able to discern the furrow of his brows and the way it mars his expression. “How...how was it?”   “How was it?” you spit at him. “What do you think?”   There’s a held silence. Neither of you speak.    But the moment anger surges through you, the upheaval follows.    Against your will, sobs begin to break through your frame. As intense as the day Seokjin delivered the news that you would have to do this. And the memories burst through, catching up to you.   It would have been fine if you were alone.   If you could pretend that it wasn’t bad, that it meant nothing. But the earnestly spoken question from Jungkook has brought forth the truth that you had so desperately tried to push away.   You cry, tears shedding down your face as you hold your face in your hands. You are oblivious to the way Jungkook’s fingers twitch, how his hands reach out, how he hesitates. But then he embraces you, pressing your face against his shoulder, his arms around your waist.   You grab onto him, latching on as if he is the only thing that grounds you to this insanity. You muffle your sobs, trying to keep them quiet before you’re found. You wish this was Seokjin.   But it’s Jungkook.   “I had a younger sister,” he tells you suddenly, calming your hiccups as he cradles you against him. “Her name was Jieun. She was brought in, just like you. Five years ago. She was taken in by force. All because she caught the eye of the Emperor.”   You pull away from him and he wipes a tear off your cheek, holding your face within his hands.   You didn’t know. Frankly, you don’t know anything about Jungkook, but to hear him tell you, for him to openly share is something you don’t take lightly. “W-What happened to her?”   “She was always weak and they mistook her sickness for pregnancy. When they found out she wasn’t, they hung her for supposedly losing the baby.” His whispers are quiet, but they carry a grief that you can barely understand. Jungkook’s eyes connect within yours.    Finally, you begin to understand. Why he started this, why he’s come here.    “I don’t want something like that to happen again. I’ll do everything in my power to keep it from happening to you.”   You nod.   He didn’t need to come see you tonight. But you’re thankful he did.   //   “All hail Empress Soojin!”   The doors open with a parade of servants following the female who holds up her dress, entering through the doorway. You meet her halfway, head dipped and hands folded with a demure smile. Her eyes are narrowed in on you and you pay no mind when her servants begin to inspect the place, examining the bed sheets and any other evidence of last night’s affair.   “Good morning, Your Majesty.”   “How are you?” Her gaze sweeps across your body, lingering on your stomach.   “It was fine.”   The Empress lifts her hand and two more servants enter with a tray of food. They start to arrange the breakfast on the table. “You might be carrying a child, so it will be important to nourish yourself.”   You look at the dishes with a sense of queasiness. The last thing you want is food — you don’t think you could contain it in your stomach if you tried. And there’s a fear in your mind that she’s going to take this opportunity to poison you. You wouldn’t be surprised if she did.   So you dip your head. “If you may pardon me, Your Majesty, I am not feeling hungry.”   “Don’t be foolish.”   “I—”   Your words are choked the moment your head is whipped to the side. Your cheek burns. The Empress’ hand print is embedded into your skin, her arm still raised in the air. Your eyes sting.   Even in your worst moments, you’ve never been slapped. Not by Seokjin. Not even by your parents.   “Her Majesty was kind enough to come here and offer you food but you dare deny her and talk back?” The servant beside her shakes her head in disapproval. “The Park Family has no manners.”   Immediately, you fall to your knees. Your head meets the carpet, right by her feet but she doesn’t see the way your teeth grit. “I apologize for my disrespect.”   Empress Soojin huffs in frustration and there’s a clamour as feet stomp out, making the room silent once more. It’s then that you lift yourself back onto your feet and pour the tonic she gave you into the plant.    You spend the rest of your day in your room after taking a bath, staying out of anyone’s way as you were told to do. But after nightfall, there’s news of Emperor Minseok planning to come see you. So you suppose you must��ve done something right for him to willingly reach out to you.   His body weight is heavy against you, your back molded against the bed.    “You’re very pretty,” he says for the millionth time.   You try to muster a smile, but keep your head tilted to stare at the wall, acting like you are much too shy. “Thank you.”   The Emperor is easily worked up, the very antithesis of control. He enters you and you bare through it, getting used to the action. But Emperor Minseok finishes in a mere three pumps, gripping at your thighs with a groan. He rolls over to sleep and you shove down your skirt.   If you could count the little fortune you have, you’re relieved he’s been too impatient to undress you properly. He’s neither kissed you nor laid a hand to the softest parts of your body.   Not like Jungkook.   //   The palace is unfamiliar. It’s a vast space that stretches across the plane and numerous structures gives room for ministers and servants you will never know the name of. The only person you truly know in these walls is Jungkook. He’s the only person to confide in, but there is little opportunity to see him, even if you long to.   But he comes to you, enough times to make you reassured that he is always there, following in your shadow. Though it’s never enough to fulfill your desires or relieve your yearning.   “What is this?”   You open the envelope he’s passed to you, pulling out the folded parchment. The two of you are hidden in an empty warehouse where supplies and weapons are kept in wooden crates. Grime lays in thick layers, cobwebs collected at the corners, but some specks of dust float in the air, seen by the sunbeams that pierce through the gaps of the planks covering the windows.   Your eyes widen at the familiar writing of the letter and your eyes skim the page to see Seokjin’s signature at the bottom.   The corner of Jungkook’s mouth quirks to see your wide grin.   “H-How did you get it here?”   “We have servants working for us and a communication line coming in and out of the palace. It’s the way we exchange news.”   You nod, reading the letter and the kind words that are so much like Seokjin, encapsulating his personality with every ‘dear sister’. But the sentences are short and the content makes the blood drain from your face. There’s been delays of Seokjin getting into the palace.   They need more time. More than three months.   “There won’t be enough time.” Your hands drop, the letter put at your side. Your eyes lock with Jungkook’s, but he doesn’t seem surprised, as if he already knew. “I’m going to die.”   He doesn’t flinch, expression solemn, unyielding to this devastating news. “I will help you.”    “How?!”   “We’ll give them what they want. You won’t be executed if you’re carrying a child.”   “The Emperor is infertile—!”    But Jungkook isn’t.    And once the implications of his words sinks into you, you turn away to hide from his gaze, your voice shrill. “How could you….how could you even think of that? You’re as cruel as Jin. No one...no one has any regard for me whatsoever. It’s all about the country, the revolution.”   In the midst of your hysteria, he calls you. “Y/N.”   “You want to use me. You want to use my body,” you sob.   “I don’t want you to die,” Jungkook emphasizes and grabs you, spinning you around to look at him again. His hand wraps around your wrist, doe eyes staring into yours. Your breath hitches and it goes silent. “If there’s anything I can do within my control to help you, I will. I don’t want to feel powerless.” Jungkook’s grasp on you tightens, as if he is afraid to let go. “Not anymore.”   You recognize the pain in his eyes. It’s tangible. Earnest.   On instinct, you lean in, pressing your lips against his to console his worries. It’s a soft kiss, one where Jungkook’s nose brushes against yours and his hands lift to cradle your face. You succumb to the itch of having him close to you, giving into your carnal desires and the lust that has lingered in you after the kisses you two shared in the darkness of the forest that one night.   And Jungkook doesn’t hesitate either.    He touches you, fingers gently tugging the ribbons of your attire to slip off the inner coat and many layers they’ve cloaked you in. It’s freeing to be out of the silks. You can finally breathe again, but not for long when Jungkook kisses you until you’re gasping for air and your breath is stained with his.   You grasp at his own clothes, ridding them and his sword clanks to the ground.   His mouth moves from your jaw to the juncture of your neck, traveling down your collarbone and the valley of your breasts. He sucks at your flesh, greedy to mark every inch of it. Even if he doesn’t say it aloud, you can tell through his touches. He doesn’t want to use your body. He wants you.   “Jungkook.” The whine only spurs him on and you hold his head against you, fingers tangling to his hair.   It’s silent, except for the sounds of him kissing against your skin. Heat rises on your face, warming your cheeks. You don’t know how Jungkook can stay so careful and controlled. He never once rushes, giving plenty of opportunities for you to push him away if you so choose to.   But you don’t and he lays you on the soft hay collected in the corner of the warehouse.   You shy away from his attention, your naked body laid in front of him. But then he strips from the rest of his clothes, not letting you be the only one bare. Immediately, Jungkook reaches down to kiss you again, mouth pressed against yours like he has become dependent on your taste.   Jungkook readjusts you, getting you to sit on his lap facing him.   “Is this okay?”   You nod, gripping at his shoulders for leverage. His doe eyes lock into yours.   “Tell me if it hurts.”   “Okay.” Tears fog your vision. You’ve never been treated so gently before, not from a man or woman. While the circumstances are undesirable, bliss still blooms in your chest.    Jungkook licks his thumb and lowers his hand to continue to warm your center. You keen against him with a moan as he plays with your bud, rubbing your clit in circles and watching your expression carefully. Your slick begins to leak to his thighs, but he doesn’t seem to mind.   “J-Jungkook…”   Your eyes are teary, nose reddened from the cold. Jungkook presses his forehead to yours, your breaths laboured together. His cock lays thick in his hand, slit weeping with precum and the two of you look down, watching him align it to your folds.   His hips push up at the same time as you guide yourself down.    Jungkook groans. The pair of you are finally connected.    Strangely enough, it doesn’t hurt. Far from it and the realization makes your cheeks hot to the touch. You’re snug around him, able to feel his head nudging against your cervix.   “A-Are you okay?” he asks and you nod several times fervently.    Instead of answering in words, you close the distance with another searing kiss.    Soft smacking fills the room with his tongue licking into your mouth. Jungkook’s arms wrap around your waist, guiding you up and down your length while he meets you halfway. Your moans are muffled, his chest pressed against yours and you begin to sweat at your hairline.   You break apart.   “Jung—ko...ok.”   “Hmm?” He brushes a strand of hair away from your face.   “Harder,” you whisper so quietly that you can't hear yourself. He blinks at you, not understanding and you throw away your pride, knowing that there’s no reason to be ashamed when you’re with him. “H-Harder, please. I’m not fragile.”   The corner of his mouth quirks into a small smile, “Okay.”   Soon, indecent noises of pounding fills the room. You hug one another, keeping each other grounded with your bodies. Your arms are wrapped around his shoulders, your whines stifled against his warm skin. Jungkook tries to catch his breath, a cold cloud emitting from his parted lips.   It feels good. To have your warm and wet heat filled by Jungkook. To be stretched by him and feel him all the way to your throat. To have him so close to you. The pleasure is overwhelming.   Your slick coats his length, dripping down and making it messy where his thighs hits against your behind. It feels like you’re scratching an itch as you ride him, your cunt being bruised against his force. Pleasure thrums through you, thoughts turned to slush, surrounded in his scent. Your eyes are hazy and you feel feverish. All that befalls from your lips are broken and pitched whines of Jungkook’s name.   It gets sloppy and his strokes start to become short and frenzied in a staccato rhythm.   “J-Jungkook!”   He licks his thumb and rubs against your clit, making you sob out. Then, you come undone. You seize, squeezing around him. Light pierces through your eyelids and your toes curl. Pleasure overwhelms you until you’re spineless. At the same time, Jungkook pants heavily and his hips thrust upwards. A moment later, he’s cumming deep into your sopping cunt. His head is lodged right against the opening of your womb. Thick ropes painting your velvet walls. Hopefully to conceive.   “—Soojin visited the consort the morning after the ceremony.”   “Is that so?”   There are voices from outside and your eyes widen, lips stealing a gasp.   Immediately, Jungkook’s palm raises and cups your mouth. His brows furrow, eyes staying locked into yours and the both of you sit still, staying silent. You turn your heads and through the gaps of the wooden planks covering the window, you can see Hoseok and a minister brushing past.   “She’s never shown favour to any of the consorts.” They stop, right where you and Jungkook are naked, merely separated by a brick wall.   “Perhaps she sees something different from this girl than the others,” Hoseok hums. “Keep an eye on Empress Soojin and tell me if she does anything else out of the ordinary.”   Jungkook’s cum leaks from your center, dripping down his length.   “Yes.”   They finally pass and Jungkook’s hand falls from your mouth, finally taking a sigh of relief. Jungkook removes himself from you but only after he pushes his milky fluid back into you with his brows furrowed in concentration. He tucks his cum past your used fold into your heat.   Once satisfied, he gets up and puts back on his clothes.   You’re still reeling, not sure what to say or if you can even look him in the eye anymore. Part of you feels used. You’ve been passed from one man to the next, always with a purpose, a greater reason that your own desires. But then—   “Are you alright?”   Jungkook is tender, helping you up and brushing a strand of hair away from your face. He helps you get dressed again while you feel his cum drip down your thigh. It’s a reminder of the sins you have just committed together, something worthy of treason.   But it’s something you find yourself not minding doing again.   “I’m fine,” you murmur after you’re dressed again.   Jungkook stares at you silently, his eyes unable to be torn away from you. Then he leans forward as if driven on by sheer instinct. Jungkook’s mouth presses against yours in a sweet kiss. It catches you off guard. And then he parts with downcast eyes. “I’m sorry for doing something unnecessary.”   “It’s okay.” You meet his gaze. “I don’t...mind.”   He nods and you turn before he can see your smile. Your hand press gently against your stomach as hope blossoms through you.

Time passes and maybe the Empress notices that you’ve been smiling more because she asks— “Are you feeling any differences?” — with a careful eye and something akin to anticipation.   “Not yet,” you answer with your head dipped. “But I’m sure it may happen soon.”   The Emperor has been seeing you two times a week. But you’ve been seeing Jungkook every other day.   If the two of you are lucky, one of these days a baby will stick to your womb and neither of you will have to be worried about how doom is impending. You have a feeling though; it’s going to work.   “Empress Soojin has personally ordered a tonic for you,” the head servant says as she enters with a tray and porcelain bowl filled with an amber liquid. “It will increase your fertility.”   Your eyes flicker from her face to the bowl and the servant softens. “Don’t worry. She won’t harm you if there’s a chance you could be carrying her child.”   You trust the woman and you ease your instincts, taking the tonic. And no later are you and Jungkook’s limbs tangled in the old warehouse again, away from prying eyes and ears.   But it’s taking too long.   There isn’t any news of Seokjin���s arrival, no movement from the rebellion group whatsoever and you can tell that Emperor Minseok is losing interest in you.   As you’re passing by the pavilion, you take a brief pause.   The servant behind you also stops, aware that you are watching the way Empress Minseok is drinking and laughing with other women, being served wine as he lies on giggling girls trying to catch his attention. You aren’t jealous, far from it. But you know nothing good will come out of his boredom with you, that it will only speed up your execution date if you are still without child. His favour would prove not only advantageous to you, but to Seokjin and Jungkook.   You’re supposed to preoccupy him after all, keep him distracted.   “All hail Consort Y/N.”   The doors to the Emperor’s chambers open right as the evening sun begins to dip below the horizon. Emperor Minseok is having drinks and some dishes while there are two concubines looped around his arms.   “My beautiful consort!” He calls out to you with a grin, surprise evident on his features.   You muster a smile and dip down. “May I speak to you privately, Your Majesty?”   “Sure, sure.” He bats at the concubines, motioning at them to leave. They bow their heads and scatter out. Once alone, you lift your eyes to lock it into his. “Is there something wrong?”   “I just…” Your smile becomes shy. “...wanted to see you.”   Emperor Minseok bursts out laughing, hearty in his chest and grating to your ears. “You were lonely? Come sit.” He pats at tiny chicken thighs and you hold your breath, complying. You nearly slip off his leg, but his sticky hands are placed on your waist.   His nose digs into your neck and you accidentally flinch.    He notices, brows raising and you swiftly cover up your mistake with a smile. “It’s still...hard for me to have so much attention from you.” You fiddle with your fingers. “I’m not used to it.”   The man grins. “But you still came here.”   “Because I was lonely,” you confirm in a quiet whisper. “The palace is so grand, I don’t really know what to do…”   “It’s magnificent, isn’t it?” he mutters out of the corner of his mouth, clearly not caring about the topic of conversation anymore with the way he stares at you. It’s almost as if he’s entranced by your features and his hand reaches down to slink up your leg.   You abruptly stand and grab his collar, making him rise to his feet too. “The palace is beautiful, especially the gardens. But it’s lonely to go flower viewing by yourself.”   Emperor Minseok cups your cheek. “Then I’ll come with you next time.”   You turn away, out of his grasp. “I could never ask that of Your Majesty. I can’t be selfish and you are always so busy. Actually...I…”   “What is it?”   You duck your head, playing a bashful act. “I try to look at your painting to satisfy my loneliness.”    Emperor Minseok chortles again and you spin around with a tiny pout. You step forward until he’s fallen onto his bed, amused at your boldness. “But it’s hard,” you say as you begin to climb on top of him. “There’s not many paintings of you.”   You position yourself so he’s underneath you. You straddle his hips, a coy smile at your features. “For a grand palace like this, one would think there would be more.”   “You’re right.” The Emperor is breathless, already excited after barely ten seconds. His greedy hands come up to grab your bottom, but you push him off so he doesn’t touch you.   “My father once commissioned a painter,” you murmur as you slowly tug his trousers down. “He was quite immature and eccentric, but his skills are unrivaled with.”   “W-What is his name?” His eyes watch you, pathetically salivating. You wonder if he’s going to cum in his pants already.   “I...think his name was Kang Seokjin,” you lie, quirking your head to the side. You grab his tiny, red cock that looks like it’s about to burst and he groans. “Have you never heard of him? He’s quite infamous in the East.”   “I-I’ve never.”   You hum, tugging your many skirts up and his eyes pin to your exposed skin. “Well, he’s a free-spirit and rarely does paintings, even for people who pay for it. Gold doesn’t buy him. My father had to beg him for weeks and even then he was reluctant.”   He scoffs. “He would never deny the Emperor.”   “Of course.” You align him up to your pink folds. Yet, you linger, putting the crumbling man under you in great suspense. “But…”   Emperor Minseok blinks at you, becoming impatient. “But?”   “You never know till you try, right?”    You drop down like the way Jungkook taught you to. You know better now how to satisfy a man, how to satisfy yourself, what kind of rhythm works best. But it only takes two swivels of your hips and one groan from him until he’s done and finishes. Emperor Minseok has tired himself out and succumbs to the seduction of sleep almost immediately with a smile on his face.    You roll off of him as he starts to snore.   You feel disgusted — skin grimy and crawling, the pit in your stomach growing with queasiness, revolted at what you had to do. But you know bathing and scrubbing your skin until it’s raw won’t be enough to satisfy you. It won’t be enough to cleanse yourself from him. So you leave the Emperor’s chambers as quickly as you came, abandoning the greasy man on the bed and shutting the doors behind you.   In the dark, you hurry as fast as your feet can take you.    You’re out of breath by the time you’ve twisted through the structures and pavilions. But relief comes in the form of a doe-eyed, dark-haired individual. The person you’ve been wanting to run to.   The person you’ve been yearning for.   “What are you doing here?” he scolds sharply, standing as you slide the doors behind you. The candlelight flickers, providing a dim glow on the profile of his face. “What if someone saw you?”   “They didn’t and they won’t.”    The bedroom Jungkook’s stationed in is tiny, a round table and two stools with a large opening for where his bed fits into the wall as if it were built in. But none of it matters to you. You don’t care that he has nothing but a sword and some folded clothes. All you care about is that he’s here.   “And what if you were caught?”   “Every time we do this, we risk getting caught.” You quiet his worries by closing the distance. You cradle his cheeks in your palm and kiss him frantically, sealing your mouth against his.   Jungkook hums to the sweet taste of your lips, licking into your hot mouth, but then he pulls away. “Wait.” His hands secure around your shoulders and he searches your expression after noticing the way your eyes have become teary. “Is there something wrong?”   You shake your head. “I just want you. Is...is that so bad?”   The candle is blown out, flooding the room in a comfortable, intimate darkness. But close up, you can still see Jungkook with the faded moonlight coming through the paper walls.    His back falls against the bed, but Jungkook doesn’t give you a long opportunity to climb and sit above him. He whirls you around until it’s your body that molds against the soft surface of his bed, preferring to take care of you than vice versa. And when he undresses you and sees the sopping mess between your legs, he understands what this is all about.    Why you’re so desperate for his touch.   “Let’s get rid of this,” he murmurs tenderly, not at once hesitating and you nod.    Jungkook kisses you again, deep and earnestly until you’re panting against him and he’s swallowing your exhales. Then his mouth travels downwards, careful this time not to leave a bruising mark against your skin where others could see in spite of longing to mark you. The man’s tongue ends up wrapping around your soft breast, allowing the bud to pebble underneath the warm muscle. You keen into him with a sob, arms wrapped around his neck and he continues mercilessly.   His lips travel down to your stomach and once your skin has gotten warm to the touch, your body writhing against the sheets stained with his scent, he positions you upwards. On his lap. Facing him.   Jungkook brushes away the strands of your hair, tucking it behind your ear and he gently holds your chin, turning your head so your eyes can lock into his. “Look at me,” he pleads in a husky timbre.   You nod and he positions himself at your dripping center, allowing you to drop down when you choose to. And when you do, the two of you groan while keeping your gazes connected.   It feels like he’s filled a void that you didn’t know was there. He’s a snug fit around your velvet heat, stretching just enough that pleasure thrums through you. “J-Jungkook.”   He makes a noise at the back of his throat, understanding what you’re feeling and he leans in for another kiss, his tongue wrapping around yours and drawing more sounds out of you.   The two of you work with each other. Your hips swivel as he pounds upwards into you, pelvises rubbed against one another to clear away Emperor Minseok’s fluids. Jungkook works hard while you squeeze and the cum drips out of you in clumps. It sticks to your thighs and his thick length, drying unpleasantly, but soon it’s only your wetness that comes out from your center.   Jungkook’s hands hold your body, touching you anywhere you guide him to. And you lean onto his sturdy frame, holding onto his built shoulders. Finally, you feel clean. You feel loved.   You kiss him again and his thrusts stutter.   It’s intimate, the sounds of gasping breaths and skin slapping on skin filling the darkness.   Jungkook can tell you’re close and rubs against your clit mercilessly and you cry, quickening your own pace to chase after your pleasure. But before you can finish, he turns your head again.   “Look at me, Y/N,” he says and you nod, teeth sinking into your bottom lip.   You cum while looking into Jungkook’s doe eyes, trying your best to keep them open. And as you squeeze around him, hugging against his cock, he cums. Deep into your heat, right at your cervix. Claiming you as his. Ropes of milky white spurting in then leaking down out of your folds.    All while keeping his tender gaze trained on yours.   You kiss Jungkook again, letting him soften within you, keeping him here just a moment longer.   You love Jungkook. It’s a fact that you don’t want to face in light of the situation — one that you had tried to deny for the sake of your own sanity, but it’s all too true. You love him. And every time he holds you, it feels like you’re making love together. If only things were different, maybe you could’ve had a future together. Maybe you could’ve gotten Seokjin’s blessing and married Jungkook, started a family together and lived a humble life for the rest of your days.   But that desperate and simple wish seems so far out of reach.   Overwhelmed with emotion, you try to keep your tears at bay. Yet, they shed down your cheeks and in the intimate darkness, Jungkook holds you close to him.

It’s one afternoon while you’re walking in the gardens with the poor servant assigned to you following closely behind that you recognize a dark-haired, mischievous individual that you had missed. But you don’t call out to your brother, no matter how much you want to. You keep yourself poised, distant.   “Oh, Consort Y/N. Glad to see you wandering,” the head eunuch, a man you’ve spoken to little, says with a smile.   You keep your head lowered, a tiny smile that is all too genuine on your features. “Empress Soojin said it would be good for my health, so I have followed her instructions.”   “Well yes. Indeed it is.” He grins and then seems to remember the taller, younger man beside him. The head eunuch steps aside and motions towards your older brother. “This is Kang Seokjin. He is a painter from the East that Emperor Minseok has commissioned. Seokjin, this is the Emperor’s most recent consort, Consort Y/N. But I believe you have met before.”   “Only briefly.” You lift your eyes towards your sibling who smiles. “It is nice to see you again.”   “Yes, nice to see you again.” Seokjin’s eyes speak more than his words do and the two of you look at one another for a long moment, exchanging meaningful expressions and taking in the differences that two months have done.   “Well, I must head off now.” You break away the stare, keeping yourself unsuspicious. “It was pleasant to meet your acquaintance again.”   You pass Seokjin, but the two of you look at one another from the corner of your eyes.   He’s finally in the court and a sense of relief fills you. If a few more ministers agree to turn against the Emperor, everything will be complete. It’s Seokjin’s turn to act and now only time will tell.

In the middle of the night when the palace has gone asleep, you sneak from your quarters.   The dirty warehouse has become your sanctuary with Jungkook, a place you’ve grown fond of because it holds your most precious memories. It was this place that you looked forward to the most. That kept you sane. That always promised that your favourite person was waiting inside.    It’s tonight with the full moon out that you get to savour the moment. After the deed has been done, you’re slumped in Jungkook’s arms, naked with just his outer coat around your shoulders.   You take his right hand, uncurling his fingers. Carefully, you trace letters against his warm palm.   “Kim?” Jungkook questions after a moment of concentration.   “Kim means gold,” you murmur and trace more letters against his skin. With your head leaning against his chest, you can hear his soothing heartbeat in your ear. “Seok means great. Jin means precious. Together, it means great gift or big treasure.”   If things were different, you would’ve liked to be a scholar. Transcribing books all day long or writing your own, perhaps creating poetry about nature. As a child, you hated studying and preferred to play like Seokjin did. But it was now that you yearned for those simple times again.   You know Jungkook’s name too and you trace each letter against his palm with your index finger carefully. “Jeon means rice. Jung spindle tree. Kook is country. Together, it means to have a beautiful country.”   “Pillars of the nation,” he clarifies quietly. “Or at least that’s what I think my grandfather intended when he named me.”   “They’re such great names. I hope….the name of our child will be meaningful too,” you hum drowsily while dreaming of the possibilities. “If it’s a boy, Minkook, the country of the people. If it’s a girl, Yujin, meaning full of stars…”    The both of you know you won’t be able to name your child. Not if it’s born within these stone walls. Not when everyone believes it is the Emperor’s. The baby will be taken away from you the moment it’s out, raised while calling the Empress their mother and you would be a nobody.    But then Jungkook dispels away your anguish, even if it’s just for a second. “They’re beautiful names.”   The corner of your lips quirk and you blink sleepily. You tell him about your dream, a memory of the future you have conjured to comfort you, “They would be raised in a quiet home on top of a hill. Where we could see the sunset and sunrise every day. There would be grass where the children could play. A river nearby to wash the clothes too…”   Jungkook’s arms tighten around you and you feel the press of his lips against your temple. “That would be perfect.”   You hum again silently with a smile, falling asleep with Jungkook right beside you. And it’s all you know you can have.   //   Empress Soojin enters your chambers the moment you are doubled over in a copper bowl, the contents of last night’s dinner squeezed painfully from your stomach. The world is on an axis, your head dizzy since you had awoken. But when you realize she’s standing there and taking in your crumpled form, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and try to stand.   “Your Majesty…”    The Empress rushes over to steady you, her eyes wide and full of surprise. “You feel nauseous?” Your expression meets hers, your face drained of all blood. The silence speaks for itself. Empress Soojin immediately whirls around to her parade of servants, anticipation etched on her features. “Call the physician!”   No sooner are you laid in the bed with the physician pressing two fingers on your wrist, quiet as he listens to your heartbeat. The Empress is crowding around, her hands gathered together but still trembling. Then the old man lifts his head with brightened eyes.   “She has been with child for two months now. It’s extraordinarily healthy and strong.”   Empress Soojin stumbles back. Her palm is pressed against her chest, her breath staggering out of her parted lips. And you lift yourself, your hand laid on your stomach that has yet to swell.   It’s your child and Jungkook’s.   “From now on, only consume cold foods and make sure it is properly cut or mashed,” he says as he wobbles to his feet. “Avoid shellfish and pineapple too. I will prescribe a herbal tonic that you can take daily.”   “Thank you.” Empress Soojin is grinning and comes to your side to envelop you in a warm embrace that you aren’t used to. “Are you still feeling unwell? Are you hungry? It is important to nourish yourself for this baby.”    When you shake your head, having no appetite, she nods and looks around. “This place is so rancid and dusty.” The Empress spits several servant’s names and they step forth with bowed heads. “Clean this room immediately! We will go on a walk in the meanwhile and get fresh air.”    There is little you can do to deny the whims of the Empress who’s more alive than you’ve ever seen her before. So while your room is cleaned and redecorated with luxurious sheets and golden vases, you’re guided by her on a walk around the garden.   The news spreads like wildfire, passing from servant to servant to official declarations.   Within a few minutes, Emperor Minseok is bounding over. There’s a grin plastered on his sweaty face, the strands of his hair sticking together. He’s out of breath, still in horseback riding gear like he had gotten off a few seconds ago and you recognize Seokjin behind him in the same attire.   “You’re expecting a child?!” Emperor Minseok exclaims loudly, startling you. He’s jumping and you muster a stiff smile, not sure what you should say. But he doesn’t give you an opportunity to. He immediately reaches out to your stomach with his greasy and soot filled hands. “Is it moving?”   But he never lays a hand on you.   Empress Soojin slaps his hand away and her brows furrow sternly. “The child is at a delicate stage. These are not trivial matters.” She pinches her nose. “And the horses’ stench that you’ve brought here is defeating the purpose of coming out here for fresh air.”   “Of course, of course.” Emperor Minseok smiles, retracting his arm.   Your eyes meet Seokjin’s and the corner of his mouth quirks warmly into a familiar smile. “Congratulations, Your Highness. May your child have great blessings as you do.”   You bow your head, trying to not prolong your gaze and arouse suspicion. “Thank you.”   “But…” Emperor Minseok’s eyes flicker between you and the Empress. “Does this mean I will get another concubine soon since I can’t play with Y/N anymore?”   Immediately, Empress Soojin is distraught. Hurt comes across her features as if she’s been slapped and for once, you sympathize with her. She never answers, merely turning around. “We should get you back inside for some rest. It’s not good to be in the cold wind for too long.”   You nod, glancing at your brother behind your shoulder and after a moment, you follow her.   But as you’re making your way back, your path is intercepted by Jungkook on his way to the courtyard. He’s dressed in black robes that match his long hair tied back, holding a sheathed sword as always. Yet what’s different from before is the tenderness of his eyes.   Jungkook doesn’t need to speak for you to understand. You’ve come to learn all the ways he communicates through silence.   “I heard about the news,” he says and you slow to a complete stop. “Congratulations, Your Highness.”   “Thank you.” You savour the moment, looking at him with a soft smile.    To the Empress who turns around to see the delay, the exchange is simply between a guard and consort without connection. She doesn’t know that the meaningful gaze is shared between a mother and father to be, two secret lovers separated by circumstance.   //   There’s many good wishes and felicitations given to you. Even Minister Park, your supposed uncle, makes an extravagant gesture by personally delivering a basket of fresh fruits and vegetables that makes Empress Soojin command the servants to re-wash. But the person you least expect to receive praise and blessings from is Jung Hoseok. In spite of that, he is here in your room, having shown up suddenly.   It’s a surprise and you struggle to get up from your bed.   “Are you alright?” he asks, concerned. “You don’t really need to stand—”   You muster a smile and manage to sit up. “It’s quite alright. I was always taught that the least I can do is greet a guest properly.”   The thin, middle-aged man rubs the gray scruff on his chin and you can feel his sharp eyes that probe into you. The way he studies you carefully would cause sweat to bead along your forehead if not for how safe you feel. It’s not from Empress’ insinuated promise of protection or that you’re abstained from execution or knowing Jungkook would defend you at any cost either.    Ever since you’ve found out that there was life budding within you, you’ve felt safe.   You’re no longer alone. No matter where you go, you carry someone else with you.   And now there’s never been a stronger reason for you to fight, to be strong and unafraid.   “I heard the physician was called this morning,” Hoseok says.   “It was just morning sickness.”   The man hums, arms shifting to place behind his back. “Well, the Empress made quite an uproar.”   “She often worries about me and the child,” you state plainly and it almost sounds like a threat, one Hoseok visibly acknowledges with a cocked brow. But you don’t dwell, clearing your throat and putting a pleasant expression on your face. “May I ask for what reason you’ve graced me with your presence?”    “I just wanted to visit the future emperor.” Hoseok’s eyes linger on your stomach and his smile becomes wry. “It’s quite a miracle, isn’t it? It’s no secret that there has been….some difficulty for a child to be produced. And for it to last this long too. The physician said it was exceptionally strong.”   Your smile stretches, but mirth never reaches your eyes. “The Mandate of Heaven grants miracles. It must be a divine wish and I am honoured to be the one fulfilling it.”   “Yes.” He nods and then notes, “well, you’ve gotten close to the Emperor’s guard, haven’t you?”   “I have no idea what you mean.”   Hoseok eyes you and it goes silent.   Then, you sit back down with the back of your hand pressed to your forehead. You gasp for breath and bat at yourself. “I’m beginning to feel faint. I think I need to lay down. It would be best if you were to leave, minister. God forbid...something happens to this child otherwise.”   Hoseok scoffs, but turns to exit.   Your fist clench, wrinkling the sheets underneath your hold. You’ll do whatever it takes to protect Jungkook’s child.   //   The fourth month milestone of your pregnancy is eventually reached without many qualms or complications. You’re less nauseous than you were before, but the queasiness has been replaced with hunger that often strikes in the middle of the night. You’re given teas and tonics, tested to make sure there is no poison — something Empress Soojin obsesses over and screams if there’s even a hair in the liquid which you’re still not sure if it’s worth laughing about or being scared of. Your breathing has become laboured too, even after short walks.   But most importantly, you’ve begun to feel strange sensations. Flutters in your stomach that the physician says is the movement of the child and when they happen, you can’t help caressing the bump that’s not so tiny anymore.   While things have been going smoothly, you’ve been put under strict monitoring for a whole month.   You’re protected, out of harm’s way. The only people who visit you are the physician, the head servant, a few other servants, and Empress Soojin who constantly and excessively frets over you — her incubator to her supposed baby. Her kindness and concern is meant for the child, not for you and you’re fully aware. It’s not that it matters to you, but it’s something you keep in mind.   You’ve heard the Emperor has found himself new concubines to preoccupy his time with too. Ever the same as he disregards matters of the nation to have innocent girls and conniving concubines lay underneath him. At least you’re untouchable to him now, out of reach and far away.   But it comes at a price.   You can’t see Seokjin. And you can’t see Jungkook either.   Your only connection to him is the swelling of your stomach, a sizable bulge that you can rest your hands against.   You miss Jungkook — so much that it hurts to think about. And it’s yearning for him constantly that makes you question your ears when you hear his voice whispering your name one night.   But it isn’t your imagination.   “J-Jungkook?”   “Don’t get up,” he says, shadow laid against the paper walls of your room. Your eyes trace against the black outline, lump forming in your throat at how this is the closest you can get to him. “I just wanted to come by and tell you that in three days, it’s happening. The ministers and other government officials have agreed to turn against the Emperor and Jung Hoseok. They’re going to force him to abdicate.”   He did it. Seokjin did it. The realization has tears flooding your vision.   “I’ll come for you,” he promises.   The tall shadow moves away, but you call out to him before he leaves—   “Jungkook.” He stops at the soft enunciation of his name, a beck and call made with emotion. And your heart stutters, knowing that the day your yearning will cease is coming close. “The physician thinks it’s a boy. I do too.”   He lingers.   If you could see him, you’d find an affectionate smile stretching into his cheeks.   Jungkook murmurs, “I hope Minkook will be as handsome as his father and as strong as his mother.”   Tears stream down your face. The corner of your lip lifts as Jungkook’s shadow fades.   //   You count down the hours, the minutes, the seconds. They pass by tediously, but excitement swells in your chest as you consider that in three days time, you will have freedom. A life with Jungkook. Seokjin by your side. Your child in your arms, never to be taken away from you.   It’s all you wished for since you stepped foot into the palace. But perhaps even before then.   You might’ve never loved Jungkook the way you do now or yearned to hold your healthy baby close to you, yet it has always been clear that doing anything and being anywhere would’ve been better than here. Even with the careful treatment you receive, this isn’t what you want.   So you wait. Patiently. For the promised day to arrive.   But it’s the day before the expected overthrow that there’s chaos in the middle of the night.    “Y/N!” You’re shaken away by Empress Soojin. Her sudden appearance shocks you out of your peaceful slumber and you’re left gasping for breath. But she’s frantic, eyes nearly falling out of their sockets. She’s still in her nightgown, hair in a disarray. The woman holds you by your shoulders, making you rise. “There’s something going on. I—I n-need to bring you to safety.”   The Empress guides you upwards, shouldering your weight. Once you’re on your feet again, she grabs a silk overcoat and secures it around your shoulders. “Quickly. There’s no time to waste.”   “Your Majesty.” You try to shake the sleepiness away, wondering if it was all a dream. “What’s going on?”   One of your hands is held in hers while the other rests underneath your swollen stomach, supporting the heaviness of the baby. “There’s a carriage waiting for you.”   There’s yelling from the distance, footsteps on the roof that make your head tilt. But you’re unable to discern what they’re saying, what’s occurring. All you know is that you’re about to be sent away. Without Seokjin — without Jungkook.    “Wait.” You struggle to catch up to her pace, confusion inhibiting your movements. Yet she still pulls you along, past the structures and paths shrouded in darkness. “I can’t leave.”   “It doesn’t matter,” Empress Soojin says, more serious than you’ve ever had the chance of witnessing. “You have to protect the baby at all costs.”   She’s desperate to protect you, to protect your child. She came to you first when she could’ve run on her own and left you asleep. She chose to keep you from harm over her own well-being.   Time and time again, Empress Soojin has made sure you were watched over.   And the realization makes guilt well up your throat.   Your steps slow and your arm tugs her back.   “This baby,” you whisper, “it doesn’t belong to who you think it does.”   But Empress Soojin’s hand tightens on yours and she turns around. Her brows are drawn together, the corners of her mouth tilted in a sorrowful smile. “Don’t you think I know that? But it doesn’t matter,” she spits in the midst of your shock and continues pulling you. “The child is supposed to be mine. It will be mine. It’s the only way I can be a mother.”   Before you can get a single word out, she turns the corner and there are deafening shouts. A clamour of feet stomping against the wooden floorboards, the clinking of heavy armour following grunts— “Stop right there!”   “Stand down!” Her voice is unwavering, strong as she pushes you behind her. “I am your Empress—!”   But they are Hoseok’s guards.    You recognize them from having followed the man around, from standing by during the ceremony and other celebrations you’ve been a spectator to. They have sworn their allegiance to him. Not to Emperor Minseok and most certainly not to Empress Soojin.   But she doesn’t seem to understand she’s been caught, that she’s a mouse cornered by two felines. She is naive and continues to scream at them for their disobedience. You try to tug her away, to get her to run, yet her pride is much too strong and you’re yanked away.    Sideways. The collar of your coat is taken by the bloodied knuckles of the guard. Stumbling. He clicks his tongue in annoyance at the ear-piercing Empress and in an effort to silence the ordeal, his weapon raises against you. His sword is high in the air, prepared to slash and end this nightmare.   Except, his blade never hits you.   Even when you shut your eyes, wrap your arms around your stomach to protect your child, hitch your breath, bracing yourself for the cut…..   “NO!”    Empress Soojin throws herself in front of you, her arms outstretched, allowing herself to take the blow as she is ripped from across her right shoulder to the left hip. She spits blood, warm crimson spewing out and splattering onto your cheeks. The world seems to come to a stop.   Your breathing ceases. The guard’s eyes shake for having hacked the Empress herself.   Yet she does not yield in spite of the wound that drips blood to the floor in droplets with a steady rhythm, that soaks into her white nightgown, marring the clean colour. She lurches forward, grabbing a torch attached to the wall and shouts, “Stay back!”   Her yell is howled out from her throat, jarring to the ears, full of wrath and will. And she throws the torch, allowing searing flames to engulf the corridor.   The guards stagger backwards with widened eyes and after a delayed moment, they retreat with profanities before the smoke can engulf their form.   Empress Soojin collapses.   You drop down to her as sobs wreck through your frame. As calculating and thoughtless as she has been, she has never once been insincere to you. She has never abandoned you. You cradle Soojin’s head into your lap, trying to wipe at her mouth with the sleeve of your silk overcoat. But she bats your arm away. Her hazy eyes remain connected with yours.   “P-protect the child…..prom...ise me…”   You nod, tears staining your cheeks forevermore. But you stand, finding leverage against the wall that was slowly being consumed by the sweltering fire and you run. As fast as your weak knees allow you to.   You leave Soojin behind — laying on the floor — staring up at the ceiling.    She dies before being taken by the fire bleeding through the palace.   You run, unsure of where to go but away from the uproar of people, the bloodshed and clashing of swords, away from the blazing inferno, collapsing ceilings and smog that chases your shadow. And it’s when you begin to lose breath and come to a four-way path that you nearly collide with another body.   A scream tears out of your chest until you find warm, familiar eyes.   “Jin?!”   Your brother’s hands secure around your shoulders and he lowers himself for your gazes to meet. “Are you alright?” His chest rises and falls, steadying his breathing as well and you notice the sword dangling by his side, unsuitable and much too lanky. Seokjin has always suited brushes and books more than weapons — something you wish you had told him sooner.   “I—I’m fine, but Empress Soojin. I...I left her behind and she’s wounded. There’s fire….fire!”   “Y/N,” Seokjin calls you calmly and sternly. “Are you okay?”    You nod and he sighs, pulling away. “Then that’s all that matters.”   “What’s going on, Jin?! I thought the abdication was going to be tomorrow.”   “Some of the ministers changed their minds last minute. They decided they wanted to remain loyalists to the Emperor for fear of their families being punished. The revolt has been moved up.”   “Revolt?! I thought….I thought they were just going to force him to abdicate!” You didn’t know that there would be such violence. That all of this was planned prior. It makes you queasy.   “Sometimes sacrifice is needed,” Seokjin merely states. “But you don’t have to worry. We still have the majority of the ministers’ support. They would’ve still voted in favour of abdicating the Emperor from his throne.”    Your brows are drawn tightly together and you shake your head. “What does that mean?”   “It means we’re going to win.” Your older brother smiles, his eyes crinkling, a sense of elation evidently filling his features. But you wonder what the cost of the rebellion coming to fruition is. “I know you’re not carrying the Emperor's child. It’s Jungkook’s, isn’t it?”   Seokjin searches your expression for any confirmation, but unlike how you thought he would be wary of your relationship with his close friend and the dangers that came along with it, he appears more relieved.   “Jungkook told me,” he explains, “and I told him to come find you. Stay here, alright?”   “What?” You grab a hold of your older brother before he can run off, before he can disappear with your worry for him being abandoned with you yet again. “Where are you going?”   “I’m going to find Hoseok before he can run away. I’m going to give him what he deserves.”   Every syllable is spoken with malice, a sharpness and anticipation flooded between each pause.    But you hang onto Seokjin, refusing to let go. You gaze at your sibling, his eyes and hair that appear darker in this lack of lighting, the downturn of his mouth, his shoulders and frame that seem to have gotten thinner in the months you haven’t seen him. You’ve missed Jin so much.   And at this moment, you don’t care that the fire is spreading through the palace. That there was smoke already spread at the ceiling. Bloodshed and pitched screams not far from where you stand. You turn deaf to those noises, to the crackling of the flames, the uprising’s cry.   “Do you really need to do this? Isn’t this enough already?”   “No. It’s not. I won’t be satisfied until I know that bastard hasn’t run away.”   “Please, Seokjin,” you beg with your entire frame, fingers tightening on his sleeve until your knuckles have turned white. You do all that you can to reach him, begging him, pleading with him as his younger sister. “D-Don’t go. I miss you. We’re….we’re family. I only have you left and I...I don’t want you to go anymore. Stay with me, please. Please, please, that's all I ask.”   You remember. Days under the sun where you would follow him. Days he would take dull sticks and poke you incessantly. Days he would piggyback you and tell you stories he made up off the top of his head. That day the two of you hid in the woven baskets and witnessed the massacre of your family until he covered your eyes with his small hands still dirty from picking flowers.   “Don’t go.”   But Seokjin’s has already made up his mind. All by himself.   You can tell with the way his eyes become saddened, how he merely leans in to plant a kiss at your forehead, how he pulls out of your grasps. Seokjin runs off and you try to chase him as if you were still children playing games in the forest. But just like then, he’s faster than you are.   “Seokjin!”   He runs, disappearing into the darkness.   “Jin!” And you’re left alone. Abandoned. Sobbing heart wrenchingly until your whole being aches. “Kim Seokjin!”   You call out to him to no avail, watching the backside of your only brother fading away.

Seokjin hears you, loud and clear. But he doesn’t turn around.    He twists around the corner, sword slashing anyone who comes in his way. After years of training, it’s no longer difficult to drive his blade into bodies and let their blood splatter on his hands. It’s rather easy when he consumes himself in his hatred and anger.   Seokjin kills any guards still wearing the royal emblem or those who have sworn their allegiance to Jung Hoseok, and any ministers who have decided to stay as loyalists. He spares servants, letting them run past him as they cry, begging for mercy. And he persists, even when he has to lurch forward, the gash of his shoulder dripping of his blood and the nicks on his face sting painfully.   He makes it to the grand throne room. The red carpet is rolled in front of him, golden candle lights providing piercing luminescence but making his own shadow darker. This is the place that once held extravagant celebrations to welcome the Emperor’s consorts that were disposed of months later, that held dancers and musicians for the entertainment of the ministers, that failed to save the nation from poverty and famine.   And now, Seokjin finds Hoseok seated on the throne.    The man is alone. Pouring his last cup of wine to drink.   “Jung Hoseok!” Seokjin’s voice booms across the hall, his steps finding vigor as they close the distance. “You can’t run anymore!”   “I know,” the middle-aged man says after he sips and smacks his lips, savouring the taste of wine. “I know I’ve lost. It must feel good to undermine my position, huh? I should’ve known better than to underestimate you, but those are things of the past. I can’t change them now.”   His calmness exasperates Seokjin to his core.   And Hoseok rises to his feet, brushing his robes behind him. His arms are placed behind his back as he walks down the steps of the throne, finally facing the younger man. But he isn’t surrendering, far from it when he takes the sword from the stand and points it at Jin.   There’s shouting, an ear-splitting clash of metal against the crackle of the flames becoming louder as they seep through the back wall. Hoseok is stiff, age having slowed his movements. He isn’t as agile as Seokjin is, doesn’t have his fervour, but it’s clear to Jin that he’s not going without a fight. That he will never give up out of his own will. Hoseok would rather burn here.   “You killed my family!” Seokjin spits when their blades crash against each other again, the older barely able to deflect.   The corner of Hoseok’s mouth tugs. “I ended many families.”   Seokjin never tells him about the Kim family, about how his father and mother were both executed when knelt on the dirty ground, how his uncles and aunts were brutalized before being murdered, that the servants’ sobs only stopped once their breathing ceases.    Seokjin doesn’t tell, just because he has an inkling, a fear that Hoseok won’t even remember.   So he lets his grief speak for itself— “You will pay for what you’ve done.”   There’s a swing, another clatter. Hoseok stumbles back before lifting his sword again.   There’s a chance. An opportunity. Seokjin could deflect, could move away swiftly without a blink to waste, but his eyes instead pinpoint to Hoseok’s open abdomen. A perfect spot and he seizes the moment.   He drives the sword forward.   Until he can hear the breath in the older man hitch, see the way his pupils tremble. Even when the cost is that Hoseok’s own blade digs into his shoulder and tears it down into his chest.   Blood pours like rain on an April afternoon. It drips in a rhythmic beat, coating the empty throne room until the iron stench overwhelms the smoke of the burning, golden walls.   Seokjin uses the remaining of his strength to step back, pulling the sword out of Hoseok. The blood-soaked blade crashes to the ground at the same time as Hoseok’s own body collapses.   And Jin falls back a moment later. The pool of his blood is warm, the fire enveloping the room sweltering. He stares at the magnificently painted ceiling before shutting his eyes for the final time.    The corners of Seokjin’s mouth tugs upwards into a smile.   We’ve won, Y/N.

At the same time, you stumble.

  The wind knocks out of your lungs as your knees buckle. You’re grabbed by one of Hoseok’s guards, pulled back until your arm feels like it’s being yanked out of its socket. You cry out as agony overwhelms you and the guard wheezes over the exhaust of the fire engulfing the palace and paints the wooden structures into bright scarlet.    “She’s here!” he shouts while you struggle.    But before you can be taken, dragged towards the center of the palace, there’s a low grunt from the guard. A short shout is made and he suddenly drops, revealing your saviour. Doe eyes and dark hair, his hands splattered in carmine and his brows knitted closely together.   “J-Jungkook!”   He embraces you in an instant, arms wrapping around your frame for the first time in ages. His nose digs into your hair, your face into his shoulder as you shake. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here now,” he soothes you in a murmur that you desperately hang on to.   But the intimate moment doesn’t last for long.   Jungkook pulls away. “We have to go. There’s an open entrance in the back by the stables.”   “Wait—wait, Jungkook! Jin. I couldn’t stop him. He—he went to find...he went to find Jung Hoseok and he went towards the fire. I can’t leave him behind. He’s my only brother. Please go look for him, please,” you beg him, hands tightening on his. “I can’t go without him.”   “I know,” Jungkook tells you with lips lopsided. “But I need to make sure you’re safe first. I need to fulfill my promise to him. This is what he wanted, okay?”   You nod, putting your trust in him and quicken your pace. The faster you go, the more time they’ll be for Jungkook to return and search for Jin before it’s too late. But as the two of you interlace your hands, running alongside one another, you’re stopped meters away from the circular opening of the wall.   “Stop!” Emperor Minseok shouts pathetically. He’s obviously shaken, his hair in a disarray, his once magnificent robes dirtied and fluttering open. He is with two other guards wielding weapons, but without his clothes and servants, it is clear that he is undeserving of his title.   He is not an Emperor.   “Y-You can’t leave! That child is mine!” Minseok points to your stomach.   “This isn’t your child!” you shout back at him and the man seemingly pales, eyes horrified as his mouth drops open. “It has never been.”   “You….You!”   There’s a clamour above the roar of the fire consuming the entire palace. The last of his guards were coming from the corridor and your hand squeezes Jungkook’s.   If you die here, then so be it. But you will do so protecting your child until your very last breath.   Yet, Jungkook has other plans and it doesn’t encompass your death.    “Run,” he whispers sharply into your ear and you whirl around to look at him. “I’ll hold them off. Run and don’t look back.”   “But—”   “I love you.” Jungkook smiles. His doe eyes crinkle, shining in the flames bleeding to your feet. “I’ll see you again.”   He pushes you forward and your feet move on instinct. You run with your arms wrapped around your swollen center, breaths stolen from your parted lips and your eyes shut tight. The guards swing their swords around, but their blades never touch you. There’s a clatter of metal, blades striking one another.   Minseok reaches out to seize you, not letting you get away. But his fingertips merely skim the tips of your hair. You hear his grunt, a smothered sound coming from his mouth, the drop of a body.   You run. Out through the entrance. Up the dirt incline until your feet begin to slip. Until the darkness has completely covered your form from sight. Until sheer exhaustion forces you to stop.   Against Jungkook’s will, you turn around.   You watch as the raging fire engulfs the palace, eating away at the structure that stretches across the horizon, as blazing as the sunlight at dawn itself. And you fall to your knees, sobbing for the people you love.

[Epilogue]   The dynasty has fallen.   New people have taken over old places and you wonder if it was all futile — if history will repeat itself once more — if Seokjin’s sacrifice has been made in vain. For his sake, you hope not.   After the rebellion and riots on the streets by the common people, the loyalists of the old empire have been driven away from the country. But you know there’s few of them that are still after you because of your ties to the rebels. There are those on the uprising’s side that are seeking to kill you too. They believe that your child belongs to the deceased Emperor and many would rather be safe than sorry, not wanting to risk his bloodline being in existence at all.   But one look at the babbling baby trying to stand in front of you and his striking doe eyes and dark hair, you know for certain that he is of Jungkook’s blood and bones.   “Minkook, what are you doing?”   You pick up your mischievous, chubby toddler to place on your hip.   His grabby hands take your hair and his mouth circles, trying to sound out syllables and string them together. “M-Mum..mum..mama…”   You smile, nuzzling into him. “Are you hungry?”   Those who believe you, the ones closest to Seokjin, have chosen to protect you from the threats. After the birth, you were brought to a safe house far from the capital where no one knows your name or your child’s. It’s a modest home on top of a green hill, close to the riverbend and where you can see the sunrise and sunset. It’s peaceful and every morning and evening, you’re able to sit on the steps. Waiting.   They told you about Seokjin. You heard that several of them saw his body before the entire palace went up into flames, but there’s been no news of Jungkook. No sighting of him.   It’s been eleven months since that time. Six from when Minkook was born.   You don’t know Jungkook’s whereabouts, don’t know if he can even find you with where you’re hidden now, how he will manage to get himself here. But you believe in his promise. You trust that you will see him again.   “Goodnight, Min.”   Your sleepy toddler is unable to keep his eyes open for any longer and succumbs to the seduction of sleep. You plant a tender kiss on the top of his round head and set down on the bed, still softly humming a lullaby that Seokjin had taught you so long ago — a way you keep his memory alive. Once Minkook is secure and safe, your footsteps pad quietly across the floor.    You come outside, shutting the door behind you, sitting on the wooden steps.   The last light of the sun is fading from the sky. The horizon is painted in murky shades of tangerine and rose, the clouds wispy and floating in shapes that you and your brother once tried to discern as children. Someday, your own children will lay in the grass staring at the sky because of his sacrifice and yours. But for now, you watch the sun fall.    You watch as night takes over the evening, how another day has passed.   But as you turn to head inside as the sky starts to be filled with stars, your breath hitches in your throat.   You blink hard to ensure that it's not a dream. That the illusion has not imprinted into your mind after so much desperation and time. But the sight is all too real when you open your eyes again.   Over the horizon at a distance and in the last dwindling light of the evening, there is a man with doe eyes and dark hair approaching. His gaze meets yours and a tender smile stretches into his cheeks. His features are tired as if he has been traveling for days, clothes ragged and ripped.   But none of it matters.   Jungkook comes closer and closer towards you. And you run, meeting him halfway as tears flood your vision. You leap forward and he laughs, arms catching you in a tight embrace.   The two of you are finally reunited at last.

[yostresswritinggirl]

Lullaby for the Gods

You have two options

"Stories brought on to the wind will bloom into legends in due time; An ancient tale comes whisked into the wind; In time it will grow and sprout once again." The Weaver and Nurturer of Tales, how they came to be and how they have gone.

Pairings -> Venti x God of Time (Ambiguous, Can be Reader)

Word Count -> 1976

Themes -> SCENARIOS, Background, Timeline, It's sad kinda

Series -> #Bonafide specials (100 followers event) Special slot from a special someone : not sure if they want to be tagged

Warnings -> This is my interpretation on the God of Time based on the Sacrificial Weapons Series. And since the prompt only mentions Venti, I won't focus much on their relationship with Decarabian.

Winds of the North are migrating through the crown of the continent once again. The clouds and breezes shift at the peak of day and the grass, the trees, the flowers they all sway. This was the first encounter, as one of the threads of the thousand migrating winds that is Venti, he had always been fascinated by the strong gales that covers a vast land beyond his reach. The city of Mondstadt protected by raging winds far stronger than he.

"Come now, little guy, are you not straying from your stream?" Such beaded eyes of the little sprite detaches from the crown of the North, with its giggles accompanies a sound reminiscent of bells as he nuzzles at the outstretched hand, fair and smooth. A finger consoles his little cheek as the God of Time echoes his snicker. As the sprite settles on their hand, they both spare a minute to watch the God of Storm's dominion. And then they turn to guide Venti back to his current, to his family of winds.

And the little sprite will not witness them until the second cycle of wind passes the cold land of Mondstadt.

So when the time came, several weeks after, Venti once again strays from the winds to venture to his own current. Where are the satin robes that flows with the breeze, that witnesses the rage of another God? The sprite follows tinkling of tin carried by the thousand winds, harmonizing to produce a soft and sleepy melody that lulls those to sleep.

In a distant island he finds himself upon a huge sundial atop a mostly quiet temple. And there stood again the God of Time, with a distant look over the ocean horizon, eyes clouded yet sparkling from the stars that bounced from the surface of the water. Their skin never frails nor wrinkles, hair lustrous and thick, yet their eyes carry a thousand yard stare of shrouded sadness.

"Little wind..." the sprite nuzzles against the cheek of the God, vibrating in worry as he urges them to smile. And they did, even if did not reach their eyes. "You've strayed again, your achon is far from here," cradling the elf to their neck, they turn away from the horizon to the west.

Yet when they urge him to go back, he stubbornly stays.

A stubborn wind playing around the wielder of Time itself. His courage was admirable, and he is lucky that this God is benevolent to his advances.

So they entertain Venti, and the wind begins his stories. Tales of those he'd witnessed when the wind ventures through the continent; and in every word he spills the God of Time is attentive, for when his accounts finally come to their end, Time puts into their memory for keeping. You weave the tales and I treasure them for that is my duty, they spoke with melancholy.

Decarabian is a God that loves his people more than others would know, more than the people would know. And he is also a lonely God. Perhaps it is this distance and disconnection from the world and his people that had made him naive to what he has forced upon his subjects.

The first prayer was heard beyond the wall of storms, only befalling to the ears of the God of Time and the wind spirit who were enjoying a leisurely stroll through the frozen land Andrius had covered in his territory. A man's woe for salvation of the city beyond the gales first reaches the God.

Yet they are unmoving and silent as they watch from afar the Gunnhildr.

But the wind spirit was not that, he was curious and as always he is carried away to his own feat. So without warning he strays from Time and listens to the crying one ever so patiently, and there he receives a glimpse of power that shall manifest one day to greater good.

God of Time offers a smile in the forests where they hid. But only that. For despite being the God of Time, they are solely there to protect its flow. To maintain balance and what should be.

There is nothing they can do to help the people of Mond.

"Little wind." The moniker carried a hard edge of worry unlike the other instances it was used. "The land of Decarabian is... treacherous and suffocating. You are but a tiny wind against his storms." Yet they knew such words will not remove the resolve in the tiny spirit. "Come back to me in one piece, alright? Remember your tales."

Venti softly bumped his hooded head to the God's cheek in reassurance, before he too disappears past the walls of gale front.

And so the God of Time can only do nothing but stand in wait. Like they had always been. Like they had always done. For Decarabian then, for Venti now.

"Bring forth the freedom we all desire."

Many of those that dwell the King of the North's cold wasteland once talked of an ethereal being of satin and silk, of flowing sands, that which overlooked the land of the storms with a somber look. Perhaps it was the waiting and the hoping, but many felt great semblance with the deity. Of the longing look for a distant freedom.

"Little wind," immediately after was a chorus of laughter at the irony brought upon by habits. Venti, now Barbatos with his great wings loom over the God of Time, hands outstretched to feel upon their smooth hands. "I always knew there was more to you."

"My muse," he tastes the new name with his newfound voice, and with his there was a chorus of angelic echoes. "There are festivities upon us, for the city of Mond trapped that was. The people had prepared a grand temple, for just us two Gods it is already ample."

Yet the God of Time smiled only with their lips at the mention of a shrine. You told them about me, they mused as the archon carried them both with the wind where the temple by the east cliff resides.

Give yourself some credit, the new Anemo Archon responds in light banter.

But the God of Time does not.

And so days of reenactments and performances were all that they were driwned upon. For daily, between the peak of the moon and the glimpses of the sun, devoted subjects would appease to the two Gods of Mondstadt through retelling and theatrics of their hard-earned journey to freedom.

Although they cannot glimpse upon the forms of the deities, the light giggles reminiscent of bells that comes from amusement and the flow of draping satin are enough reassurance that their important audience still lingers and listens to their offerings.

This dwelling became their place of rendezvous. And whenever the amphitheater was not crowded by devotees, a lyre plays with a melodic voice, weaving tales of Mondstadt's anew. The God of Time would be there to treasure every story that is weaved, but their subjects remember such moments in a different light: the strum of the strings and the lilt of Barbatos carries with it a hint of serenades.

It seems as tho the faceless God enjoys the Anemo Archon's tales the most.

Whenever it is the Gunnhildr's clan that performs their tale of courage in honor of defending Mondstadt, life and freedom, Barbatos' happiness was the most extraordinaire. The winds breeze by to caress everyone with comfort.

The Imunlaukr receives praise from the God of Time when they are the one on stage. Of courage and bravery, with their desire to not only protect the city of Mond but to appease the Gods, time slows when they follow their script. As if honored by time to stay and linger for the amusement.

And finally, the Lawrence clan holds with them a different reaction, for when their time has come it is quiet. Other clans would comment that perhaps the Gods do not favor their performance but they continued regardless, and they carry with them the essence of wisdom and strength, from the frozen lands to the new city. And only after they perform are they graced by the softest winds and the kisses of youngness that they carry with them even after.

This clan's performance sings with expertly woven symphonies and journeys of hardships through the cold, not harsh but comforting, soft melodies and that of longing. During their performance unbeknownst to their eyes is when the wind embraces the passage of time, where it is in its calmest moments, cradled between his arms and resting against his chest.

The bloodline of the Lawrence always ends the rituals for the morning, for the God of Time had finally found themself free from the shackles of the storms, peacefully resting in the arms of freedom. And it is in these moments that the people appreciate the lessened harshness of time.

Time is harsh and unrelenting, and should always be moving.

The God of Time protects time, nurtures time, and urges time. No force or law shall break the equilibrium of time nor tip its balance. And this unbreakable rule applies to them.

For this reason they ask one day, to the Anemo Archon, why they praise Time. What do they expect from time. And there Barbatos finally sees the burden of a thousand years, of the constraints of that whom is held down by prayers, held down by incapability.

Time only knows harshness. And they cried to the winds without restraints, for not once will they be able to gift the people that so desperately long for their blessings.

And for once, the wind was silent.

For once, the winds... understands the insanity of being one with time. A force made to be unmoved and unrelenting, to be shackled to a single tale when you are burdened with the pleas of many others.

Time is harsh, because they are meant to be.

So when the Anemo Archon finally desired rest and detachment to procure the essence of freedom, they too felt the chance to finally breathe. "Can you set up my awakening five hundred years from now?" Venti laid his head upon the lap of Time, teal eyes and smile somber yet gentle and reassuring. "Preferably at the peak of Ludi Harpastum, if you would allow." An hour glass manifests next to him, allowing his wish.

"When you wake, I will be here," they mumbled as the archon lets his eyelids rest, feeling a soft kiss to his forehead that lulls him to sleep.

"Tell me the tales like a balladeer." And he slumbers away the years.

"When I came to be, the Lawrence ruled over Mondstadt, governing with the most disgusting aristocracy. It was only right that they lost the blessings of thy winds, after all it is only for those who fought to be free," Venti sighed with pure disappointment, "Honestly."

"What happened to your Time friend, then? Did they tell you what happened during your sleep?"

The windborne bard looks at Paimon with a wide yet steeled gaze so daunting it made her squeak and hide behind the traveler. Who silently watches as Venti once again sighed and resigned to strumming his lyre.

"They're gone." No rhyme, no smiles, no cryptics.

Barbatos sought out the help of the winds of Teyvat to tell tale on the dwellings of the God of Time yet came out empty handed. And his only salvation, the oldest of the Seven, can only shake his head as he too does not know of the whereabouts of the God.

The fragments of time lingers in cursed windswept ballads and stories. And as the years go by, all worshipers and records had forgotten about the deity.

They only sing praise to the wind shrine now.

Now who shall nurture the stories brought by the winds?

I seem to have a knack for hurting Venti.

@creation-magician @boxofteenageideas @zelos-simp @ellitx @your-local-venti-simp @indigodreamtime47

[mannien]

Mornings in Sheffield Park | TH - PROLOGUE

The one with graduation, daisies and carnations, and a hopeless emotional addiction.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: some stress and anxiety here and there

Some feelings are addictive. It’s easy to get used to the way something tingles with excitement, warms up with passion, or stings with powerful adrenaline rush. People get comfortable with feelings known and desired and more often than not, they turn them into coping mechanisms. Whatever sticks their wobbly pieces together the longest, is the ultimate solution. Feelings don’t need to be entirely positive or with pure intentions behind them. As long as they cover up the shattered pieces, they stay. They may enhance some experiences, especially when someone decides to stick with something as simple as joy. But some make life more difficult than it seems; they mess up the timeline and allow people to feel so many wrong things before reaching the truth.

An array of emotions weaves through fresh university graduates. A sense of freedom and relief is somewhat clouded by fear or excitement. Someone has an internship lined up, their friends take a year to travel across Europe, a roommate has an apprenticeship at their next job. Others might take things slow and see what the future holds, while some students get prepared to have a fresh start. The overall unknown seems to be the underlying tone in the speeches during the graduation ceremony, but each person in polished shoes and with a rapid heartbeat subconsciously sticks to a feeling that makes them feel more at ease.

Students of each program are called on stage. Every little success along the way is cradled into slippery hats and fitted gowns with the university’s subtle emblem on the front. The audience is sitting on the large balcony above the graduates. People clap with appreciation at each young person walking across the wooden floor and shaking the chancellor’s hand. Some receive a more enthusiastic applause, sometimes even a roar of cheers. As the long queue of journalism graduates makes its way through the hall, the names are listed rapidly. Students walk as if they were a part of an assembly line, trying their best not to delay the process of the nerve-wracking hand-shaking and walking without tripping. The last are always graduates with exceptional results, so the crowds are encouraged to clap vigorously. And that’s what’s heard when the eyes of two women in the audience are focused on the proud figure walking on stage: the loudest cheers of the afternoon so far.

“Remind me, why aren’t we screaming for your boyfriend, and the whole department of journalism is?” A questioning voice surprised Millie so much that she jumped in her seat.

“I’m nervous, Thea. That’s why.”

She stated the obvious. Millie Beaver was the one to frantically fix the sleeves of her gown as a nervous tick. She got up early that morning, dreading the day full of polished festivities and exaggerated elegance requested upon a bunch of tired, educated enough people. The pride in successfully finishing her studies was yet to come; her body was rather keen on reacting dramatically to the large crowds of scholars, pupils and their families. The dread of participating in an unrehearsed event like this clouded her brain and made her focus solely on not loosing it. Though she wouldn’t dare admit it to the smiling man, who was just about to shake some hands on stage. The confidence he wore on his face was something she was used to seeing, even in the least favourable scenarios.

“I still don’t get it, how some people are born so talented that they don’t need to work their asses off to get somewhere,” she shrugged, making her tight black curls shake with her head, “I mean, the hours we spent on reading and researching…”

“I guess we’re just different.”

“Different? It’s not fair, that’s what it is. Patriarchy at its finest.”

The comment made Millie laugh and release some of the tension. Her eyes followed Franklin into the side corridor, where a little crowd of his friends formed a circle around him – the star of the department - before continuing into their seats. His cheerful stance made her bit her lip in excitement; for a moment, she tried to forget about whatever was said through the speakers. She genuinely wanted to be feel happy for him and his academic achievements. After all, she spent previous months on watching him get to the top of their classes almost effortlessly, as if he was born to be talked about by the teachers.

Millie felt her heart speed up at the thought that he might start searching for her for a little cheer, or even a tiny wave of support. But Frank sat down and continued to enjoy his fame, and Thea started to pull her up from the wooden chair.

“Come on, it’s our turn.”

She followed her friend and attempted to smooth out the heavy gown. Her light brown hair flowed as she walked, making her nervously fix it every now and then. She turned to the very end of the queue to find Jane, who wore a wide smile. They made eye contact and the blonde sent her a half-smile, knowing that they are almost through the tough part. It calmed Millie to know that she had her support system, not only up in the balcony, but also somewhere among the students of literary and media studies. At one point she feared that her nightmare of falling off the stage will become reality, but as a surprise to her and her close ones, clumsy Millie walked gracefully and with pride painted across her face.

Mission accomplished: she made it through college without falling.

The main floor of the event hall once again filled with students, their peers, and families. Loud chatter was heard across the building as people were celebrating the achievements of the year’s graduates. Some of the groups moved outside and took in the chilly London air. It smelled of rain and freedom, clouded with light grey pillows in the sky.

The three girls tried to make it through the crowds of chatting people in search for the perfect spot to take pictures together. Jane wore the highest heels of them all, so she was designated to lead them to the wall with the logo of the university. In a tight weave of pinkie fingers, they rushed through the hall just as they would through a college party. Millie felt dizzy from the sea of the same black gowns surrounding them from every angle. Some people waved at them, so she kept her smile wide and left Thea – with her one hand free – to the waving back duty. Their secure escape led them safely to the back wall on the side of the entrance, where some of the students usually found peace between classes and sat down on the floor, watching over the busy entrance to the building during the semester. The carpet remembered a lot of spilled coffees and teas in the wobbly little cups purchased from the cafeteria inside. Millie let out a breath of relief, seeing that only a couple of students found this spot perfect for keeping the memories.

“Hey, congrats! We’re graduates!” Jane welcomed the group that was finishing their poses in front of the wall.

Thea laughed with them, but desperately waved her hand in front of her reddening face to cool off.

“I hate your speed in heels. That was too fast!”

“Don’t worry, at least you don’t have to run to the Linguistics ever again.” Millie pulled her little bag from underneath the gown and looked for a sheet of paper with old notes. As long as Jane was busy chatting up other students, the other two tackled the makeshift air conditioning to prevent Thea’s makeup from running.

“Okay, are we ready for some iPhone memories?” The sound of a snapshot stopped Millie from frantically fanning their friend’s face.

“You sound ready. Do you have a tripod or a selfie stick, though? I want to have a picture with all of you.”

“We could still catch that group and ask someone to snap a few?”

“I’m not running anywhere, I’ve just fixed my face!” Thea puffed her cheeks and did a few more waves around them, certainly for an enhanced dramatic effect.

“Then don’t run anywhere, I’ll call my mom to come here, she’s probably out for a smoke anyway.”

“You really want to have your graduation pictures taken by your mom?” Thea and Millie chuckled at Jane’s resigned sigh. “Maybe Frank could come here? I trust his steady hands more.”

“He was supposed to go to the student’s office after the ceremony. Honours and stuff.” Millie pursed her lips.

“Right when we need him! What a boyfriend.”

“Jane!”

“Do you need a hand, girls?”

A sudden male voice stopped the rising argument and made the three of them look into the corridor. He welcomed them with a warm smile and soft wrinkles by his eyes. With a small bunch of colourful flowers, he stood out in casual, non-graduate clothes, yet with similar youthfulness to him.

“I’m not my brother but I can take a straight picture in focus.”

“What the fuck?” Millie covered her mouth in shock. Hesitantly, she took one step away from Jane and Thea, afraid of her next reaction. “What the actual fuck are you doing here?”

“I came to my friend’s graduation, fancy seeing you here.”

“I’m serious!” She raised her voice and made her way over to him, meeting his steps somewhere in the middle of the distance. He was smiling at her stupidly and she couldn’t stop herself from mirroring his reaction.

“I’m serious too, you made it! That’s so cool!” He opened his arms and invited her in, with a small encouragement of his waving hand.

One of the most addictive feelings are those of an utter comfort and safety. This teasing sparkle making your insides warm up and encouraging you to be a little more positive. That’s precisely what Millie felt when she was engulfed in a tight hug by her childhood best friend. Tom held her tightly across her back and swayed them side to side, earning a hearty laugh from the girl who was now, shining. She felt a sense of genuine relief once he squeezed her in reassurance; her brotherly figure showed up, so she was finally able to relax. Suddenly everything felt easy and perfect. All of the stress, fear of the unknown, anxiety about the grand event of the day, and the rest of damaging emotions slowed down their tempo in her veins, simply because she was home. Her smile swiftly changed into more prominent and definitely brighter by a shade or two. As he held her close, he could feel Millie’s warmth suddenly radiate through his body, making his eyes twinkle with joy because of this very girl.

“Congratulations, Minnie Mouse, I’m so proud of you,” he whispered next to her ear, cautious of what others may hear from their little exchange. She did not need any more nerves weighting her down, so he decided not to make a big scene – even though he definitely wanted to tease her worrying head and make sure she’s having a good time. “you’re all grown up now, so I got you flowers.”

“Oh, so otherwise you wouldn’t?” Millie shook his head, but accepted a small bouquet of carnations and daisies.

“Nah, I know you hate flowers.” He winked at her and put his arm around Millie’s arms, tucking her into his side a little too tightly.

“Absolutely. Thanks Tom, I’ll throw them out after the pictures.”

“Go ahead,” He tucked her in even more, making her squirm in discomfort. It was one of their things, to squeeze one another too tight. It made them feel connected as if they were siblings. They knew how sibling love worked, Tom having three younger brothers and Millie being the youngest of three sisters, but it was refreshing to have it a little spiced up. She let out a shy laugh and pushed him away before taking the delicate bunch from him. She lost the smell of his familiar perfume and took a breath. Once he extended his hand to Millie’s friends, he was back to his public confidence and charm. “Hey! Thea and Jane, right?”

They took an intimidating number of pictures; some of them good enough to share with people, other more fitting into a private photo album filled with silly, heart-warming memories. The group shared a lot of easy laughs together; Millie’s girlfriends eased into the lightly flowing chatter with Tom in no time. It made her sink into the bubble of comfort and light; she was smiling brightly when they reached the entrance to the building. Tom opened the glass door for all of them. A slightly chilly air hit Millie in her blushing cheeks and slowed down the pinky glow spreading across her cheekbones. Somewhere in the distance she noticed her parents lurking excitedly at the group and waving them over expectantly.

There was this heaviness slowing her down and taking up an excess of space in the back of her mind. As they were making their way across the university’s main square, Millie slowly turned her head to the side. She perked up at the sound of loud cheers and noticed a familiar group of students. Among them, there was Frank—laughing and hugging people from his department—and he definitely enjoyed being in the centre of attention. She was sure he didn’t even notice her walking by, but she didn’t want it to affect her as much as it was going to.

In turn, what she didn’t think of was the attention someone would give to her best friend: the smiling, cheerful young man, who was shamelessly chatting up Millie, Thea and Jane.

“Oh my God, is that Tom Holland?”

This simple question, raised somewhere from the group of journalism graduates, didn’t surprise Tom. However, it definitely rose the hairs on the back of Millie’s neck. Though he brushed it off and sent her a reassuring smile, Millie felt panic flowing through her veins. They both knew it could happen, but Tom seemed to be focused more on making her a priority, rather than fearing being recognized as the famous actor. He watched her reaction, now fully aware of her boyfriend emerging from the crowd and skipping towards them.

“Hey, I was trying to find you earlier,” he brushed his hand through his dark blonde hair and gave her a brief smile, before turning excitedly to Tom. “Hey man, I didn’t know you were coming!”

“We just went to…” she paused, seeing as he was already extending his hand towards her friend. “…take pictures.”

“The girls had a nice little photoshoot back inside.” Tom cut short his smile, raising the side of his mouth only to her. He accepted Frank’s handshake but didn’t allow it to turn into a bro-hug. It was fairly easy to read their body language; Franklin tried his best to seem friendly with his girlfriend’s celebrity friend, but the said celebrity was too kind to allow his cheekiness outshine Millie’s comfort zone. Jane and Thea turned their heads away at the sight of palms squeezing a little too tight for a friendly greeting. Frank’s friends and a couple other bystanders watched the exchange with prying eyes, and Millie let out a frustrated groan at the unnecessary tension.

“Cool, cool. Can I steal my girl for a moment?”

Frank didn’t wait for an answer, but rather just took her hand and pulled her to the side, hiding slightly behind the group of people. He fixed the tinsel attached to her hat and winked at her, giving her his full attention. He looked at her with his gleaming blue eyes and made her smile at the intimate moment.

“You good, sweetie?”

“Yeah, just fine.”

“Good. I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”

“Are your parents here? I haven’t seen them.” She looked around, trying to find his mom’s flowing blonde hair.

“They went to get the table at the restaurant nearby. Wanna join us?” He searched her face and leaned in closer, brushing his nose against hers. Millie laid her hand on his shoulder and allowed him into her little space.

“Why are you asking me to choose between our parents?” She chuckled, but patiently waited for his reaction. “Could we all spend time together, at least once?”

“I told you, it’s not a good idea,” Frank brushed his lips against Millie’s, slowly easing her into him and making her return the kiss. “you can ask Tom to come to the party tonight, it’ll be fun.”

“No promises.”

They shared a few more kisses that left Millie breathless - Franklin wasn’t usually the one to publicly show his affection, so she craved anything he willing to give her. She smiled up at him and let him go, happy that he took the minute to catch up with her.

With one last wave of his hand, Frank joined his party. Although he was instantly pulled into celebratory pictures, he couldn’t help but watch Millie walk away; she joined Jane and Thea in a heart-warming group hug. She was just sweet like this: sticking to her people, making sure everyone’s happy, and embracing all the kindness in the simplest actions. Franklin smiled to himself at the sound of her cheerful laugh and turned back to his friends, but then he noticed the source of her laugh. Her and Tom did a barely-there joyful dance, raising their hands and curtseying to her parents. Alfred, her dad, patted him on the back and shook his hand vigorously, while Millie was being squeezed by her mom.

People from Frank’s department praised him for having any kind of relationship with Tom Holland. Frank watched Tom’s joyous exchange with his girlfriend. Tom was proudly paying attention to his best friend, and Millie’s cheeks were hurting from the smiles. She was content and felt at ease. She was sure that her heart was filled to the brim with love and comfort.

Yes, being addicted to feelings is difficult. It holds people hostage in the arms of the sole premise of positive emotional experiences. It’s also blinding for the addicts, making the loss of certain feelings hurt more than it should. Addiction feeds off the weak, the confused, and the uncertain. It eats them up alive and strives to receive more and more satisfaction. It allows for the illusion of reality, so that the addicts can project certain feelings onto their consciousness. They live in their bubbles of unruly contentment and often forget to look into their souls and perform a regular check-up.

Millie was an addict.

***

Please let me know what you think!

tagged: @peeterparkr @katieraven @kozybear @sunsetholland @hey-marlie @lauras-collection @cunaeparker @constellationsv @heyhihellowhatsup0

[themurphyzone]

PatB Oneshot: A Whole New Life for You and Me

For the air mice nyoom’s server Secret Santa for @deez-art! Decided to gift them a fic for the wonderful Brainladdin AU cause it’s so pure and I live for found family. I decided to go with the happy ending for the movie, cause Genie’s reaction upon being freed melts me every time.

@nuttersincorporated came up with the fun idea of Wakko calling Brainladdin ‘Dad’ and Brainladdin denying it every time. I thought it was cute XD

Summary: The evil Snowballjafar has been defeated, but there's still some loose ends that need to be wrapped up. And really, there are way too many emotions going on here for Brainladdin's comfort. 

AO3 Link (No FFN post cause AO3 has easier x-over system). 

No power, however grandiose and terrifying, could go unchecked by the laws of the universe. Snowballjafar had forgotten there were unseen forces far greater than himself, even with phenomenal cosmic power at his fingertips.

The price to pay? Itty bitty living space inside a cramped magical lamp.

Brainladdin stared down at the black lamp that now contained his former friend turned enemy. While part of him would always remember Snowballjafar as a fellow young orphan on the streets, he also knew that this fate was karma for all of the hamster’s cruelty.

Jaspinky wouldn’t be forced into a union he didn’t want. Yakko wouldn’t be forced to hurt the people he’d come to regard as his younger siblings. Wakko and Dot wouldn’t be forced to live in an ACMEbah under Snowballjafar’s iron command.

ACMEbah was restored. Everyone was safe.

Brainladdin gave the lamp to Yakko, now back to his normal self, or as normal as could be for a wisecracking genie with a penchant for cartoonish humor.

“Allow me,” Yakko said, winking at Wakko and Dot as he zipped towards the palace balcony that overlooked the city. The kids eagerly scrambled over to the balcony to watch the proceedings.

In a flash of light, Yakko now wore a backwards blue cap, Wakko sported some strange armor that covered his chest and face, and Dot had a pink helmet with her trademark yellow flower painted on the side. Wakko and Dot grinned up at Yakko with adoring expressions, hanging off the balcony a little too eagerly for Brainladdin’s peace of mind.

“Wakko! Get off that railing at once!” Brainladdin shouted.

“Yes, Pops,” Wakko said in the universal ‘exasperated teen’ tone, which Brain suspected he’d picked up from Yakko. But Wakko planted his two feet on safe ground anyway, settling for standing on his tiptoes instead.

“I’m not—oh forget it,” Brainladdin sighed. It wasn’t worth arguing about, and he’d rather just take the defeat now instead of prolonging it.

Jaspinky giggled, his jewelry swaying gently with every movement. His blue eyes sparkled once again, a much welcomed change from the abject terror he had experienced while drowning in the sand-filled hourglass. And really, he looked much better in blue and gold than seductive red.

It was an objective fact.

Yakko held the lamp in his left arm, then wound it so fast that it resembled a blue whirlwind. “This is it, folks! The real teeth-clenching, nailbiting, game-winning swing of whatever century we’re in!”

Another magical burst, and Brainladdin found himself holding a tiny triangular flag emblazoned with Dot’s flower. Jaspinky screamed in glee, waving a giant pointing foam finger that now covered his right hand. Brainladdin rolled his eyes, but held the flag as high as he could in a silent show of support.

Dot readied her large mallet as Wakko crouched behind her, punching his fist into the palm of his hand. Yakko zipped to the other side of the balcony, then hurled the lamp towards Dot with all his might.

THWACK!

Dot’s mallet connected with the lamp and sent it soaring high into the blue sky and far beyond the walls of ACMEbah, straight into the heart of the vast desert.

“THAT’S FOR JASPINKY, MY BROTHERS, AND BRAINLADDIN CAUSE I FEEL LIKE BEING GENEROUS, YOU STUPID HAMSTER!” Dot screamed as she dashed around the balcony at high speeds, high-fiving Jaspinky’s foam finger as she passed him.

“And it’s outta here, thanks to my new sister sib! What a swing!” Yakko ruffled Dot’s hair as she threw herself at Wakko, knocking him down from his crouched position. The two laughed and embraced, laughing in joy and relief that their ordeal was really over. The duo began an odd victory dance that involved a lot of stomping both of them and rude hand gestures to the horizon on Dot’s part. “He’s looking at uhhhhhhhh…about a ten thousand year sentence in the Cave of Wonders. Without parole or bail, unless some poor shmuck decides to release him in a cashgrab sequel. But that’s a problem for another time.”  

Brainladdin allowed himself a tiny smile. And Jaspinky smiled that bright, silly smile that always seemed to make Brainladdin’s chest flutter swiftly and strange, but not in a wholly unpleasant way either.

To think this entire business had started out as a way to ascend to the throne of ACMEbah. Leave poverty behind him. Get Wakko some actual food and not worry about amputated limbs courtesy of angry shopkeepers.

He hadn’t counted on falling head over heels for Jaspinky’s gentle spirit. Who wanted to marry for love and not for power or fame or wealth. Nor had he counted on striking up a genuine friendship with a powerful magical being, who had wishes of his own yet was bound to the desires of his master.

Wakko lived by the rules of the street rat like Brainladdin, but he’d found a kinship with others willing to show him the affection Brainladdin couldn’t offer him.

Dot could finally be a child, a rather clever and self-sufficient one, and now she had brothers who would watch her back from this point on.

And Brainladdin found himself back to square one. There were other methods to take over ACMEbah, but he couldn’t continue perpetrating this lie.

Jaspinky deserved someone better than him. Wakko should be taken care of by people who would provide for every physical need and show him the love he deserved. He didn’t get along with Dot, but she was protective of Jaspinky, and it was by far her most admirable trait.

Most importantly, this quest would’ve been doomed to fail from the beginning if it hadn’t been for Yakko, who supported the endeavor in his snarky, playful way, entertained with his magic, and didn’t seem to begrudge Brainladdin for not keeping his promise when he’d been blinded by power.

Really, Yakko never should’ve been locked away from the world, only to come out when someone wanted to use him.

“Pondering again, Brainladdin?” Jaspinky asked. He took off the foam finger and set it down gently, then carefully pried the flag out of Brainladdin’s hands. His fingers were warm and gentle, much like how they’d held hands on that whimsical carpet ride just a few starlit nights ago.

“Yes,” Brainladdin said softly. He swallowed the lump in his throat, then took Jaspinky’s hands in his and tried not to think about how this would be the last time he might ever see him. “And I’m sorry I lied to you about being a prince.”  

Jaspinky teared up, his impossibly blue eyes reflecting the sky above. “It’s okay. I know why you did,” he whispered, like the lie was easy to forgive, just like that.  

A street rat couldn’t hope to change a centuries-old law. Street rats had no power, no connections, no respect. And the Sultan-CEO wouldn’t approve of any match but the ones she selected for Jaspinky, regardless of his wishes.

“I suppose this is goodbye.” Brainladdin squeezed Jaspinky’s hands, just to prolong releasing his hands for a little longer.  

“It’s not fair,” Jaspinky whimpered. “I love you.”

Brainladdin had seen those words float around in every step, every touch, every look from Jaspinky. But to hear it spoken out loud…

Well, it seemed he would be yearning for much more than power once he returned to the street.

A few teardrops splashed down from above. Yakko sniffed into a handkerchief, and Wakko and Dot stopped dancing, the reality of the situation sinking in, judging from their crestfallen expressions.

“Sorry. Never been this invested in a love story before,” Yakko said, poofing the handkerchief away as he drifted down next to Brainladdin. “But ya still got one wish left. Might as well use it. Just say the word and it’s riches, elephants, an entourage, and the whole prince shebang.”

Even after I went back on my promise to set you free? Brainladdin wanted to ask, but the words caught in his throat. You still want to offer me a chance to be with Jaspinky?

“Eh, what’s an eternity of servitude to love?” Yakko stretched casually, as if he could read Brainladdin’s thoughts. He bumped noses with Jaspinky, who smiled despite his tears. “You only come across someone like Jaspinky…well, never actually. Then again, trying to score a date can be pretty hard when you’re stuck in a lamp.”  

Brainladdin cupped Jaspinky’s cheek in the palm of his hand. He wouldn’t feel his warm, luxurious fur ever again.

“Jaspinky…while I-I reciprocate your affections, I can’t fabricate an entire persona to make you…you know.” Brainladdin looked down, unable to meet Jaspinky’s tearful gaze.

“Um…” Jaspinky just sounded confused.

“He stinks at admitting he loves you even though it’s completely obvious cause he actually wants you to be happy unlike all those other rotten, no-good, stuck-up jerkwad princes!” Dot shouted.

He could’ve done without the insult, but he nodded his thanks to Dot for the translation to Jaspinky terms.

“I understand, Brainladdin,” Jaspinky murmured. He kissed the back of Brainladdin’s hand, soft lips pressing against the calloused skin. Brainladdin allowed a moment for the kiss to settle, then pulled away to take care of one last piece of business.

“Yakko, I wish for your freedom,” Brainladdin declared.  

This was his chance to set things right. So that Yakko would have his freedom, never be forced to serve a cruel master again, and fully become the loving, questionably responsible brother he was meant to be.

“Right away! Vipers, monkeys, gold, coming right-” Yakko said, dusting off his gloves and cracking his knuckles. He raised his arms, then paused in surprise, the final wish not quite registering yet. “-wait, what?”  

Brainladdin held the lamp up to Yakko. The forever-teenager’s powers would be his own, never subject to anyone’s whims again.

“Yakko, you’re free.”  

Blue smoke poured out of the lamp as it rose out of Brainladdin’s hands, swirling around Yakko’s body as he looked on, completely speechless for probably the first time in millennia. His eyebrows drew up in shock, his arms making odd, meaningless motions as if he didn’t know what to do with his own body. Bolts of cosmic, ancient magic weaved around Yakko in indescribable colors, sparking clouds of massive energy that had never been witnessed before or ever again.

Jaspinky rested his jaw on top of Brainladdin’s head, not caring if he squished his fez. Wakko’s tongue lolled out happily, and Dot bounced up and down in sheer amazement before catching herself and settling for a joyful grin. Together they watched the golden shackles around Yakko’s wrists break and vanish into a cloud of magical sparkles.

Yakko stared at his own bare wrists, rubbing them and feeling the fur beneath his bonds, probably for the first time in his long life. He turned them in every possible direction, his mouth making movements that were heavily reminiscent of a fish out of water.  

“I’m free?” Yakko asked in disbelief. He gingerly picked up his lamp by the handle, tapping it a few times in case it had any power left. But the lamp had lost its golden sheen, its exterior now a dull brown. Yakko’s chest heaved up and down rapidly. “I’m free.”

His voice was tiny, not at all full of confidence and bravado as Brainladdin had admittedly grown fond of throughout this whole ordeal.

Then he cleared his throat, thrusting the depowered lamp into Brainladdin’s arms and startling Jaspinky enough that his arms slipped off Brainladdin’s head. Jaspinky laughed it off, and Brainladdin nudged him with his foot.

“Quick! Wish for something outrageous! Wish for denial!” Yakko begged as he covered his eyes, turning away from Brainladdin. “That’s it! Denial!”

Brainladdin shrugged, but obliged anyway. “I wish for denial?”

“Psych! Like you really need me for something you’ve already got!” Yakko shouted in Brainladdin’s face, giggling uncontrollably.

Brainladdin sighed and pushed Yakko’s face away from his, but Yakko’s glee was absolutely infectious, and even he couldn’t help but smile as Yakko bounced off pillars and roofs and the ground below, reveling in his newfound freedom. Whatever Yakko planned to do, Brainladdin had no doubts that the genie would use his liberation from the lamp well.  

“I’mfreeI’mfreeI’mfree—I’M FREE!” Yakko chanted the mantra over and over. He lifted Wakko and Dot onto his shoulders and nuzzled their noses, and they returned the gesture with huge smiles. Wakko leaned a little too far over for comfort as the trio celebrated in midair, but it seemed that Yakko’s magic allowed him to stay on without worrying about the laws of physics.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to see the world! You know how boring lamp interiors are? It’s good that you don’t, cause you’ll be bored if I answered that!” Yakko exclaimed as he conjured a long, blue slide that allowed Wakko and Dot to safely return to the balcony in style. Then he broke out an enormous suitcase, packing clothes, toys, and other items with a ridiculous amount of arms.  

So Yakko planned to leave too. But Brainladdin tried to hang onto the joy of Yakko’s freedom for a little longer, trying not to linger on how his life always consisted of saying goodbye to anyone he met that he’d grown to…tolerate.

“Well, off to see the sights! Tahiti, China, the Galapagos, Pennsylvania, Switzer-“

Yakko paused and looked down, a bag of apples in one hand and a potted cactus in another. His mouth opened in surprise. He was watching Brainladdin.

Then Brainladdin’s vision blurred. He wiped his eyes, and his fingers came away damp. No one else had commented yet, though Jaspinky’s hand was on the small of his back, but Brainladdin said nothing. Best to ingrain the memory of Jaspinky’s soft touch in his mind while he had the chance.

Yakko wiped away a few tears of his own, his form shrinking until he was just a head taller than Wakko.

“Poit. I’ll let you have a moment,” Jaspinky whispered. Brainladdin only registered his words just as the gentle pressure vanished from his back. Dot knelt, taking Jaspinky in her cupped hands. She was silent, only giving Yakko an odd look before retreating into the palace for her own private conversation with the princess, leaving Wakko and Brainladdin alone with Yakko.

A case of déjà vu swept through Brainladdin. He and Wakko alone in the Cave of Wonders. Wakko bouncing along to a bombastic musical number, where he could have a fun childhood experience that ACMEbah refused to grant. Yakko’s excitement over simply talking to living beings.

At first, Yakko was just a means to an end. He was powerful, and it wasn’t difficult to work within the boundaries of his genie limitations. Maybe he could’ve took things more seriously, maybe he could’ve stopped jabbering for just a few seconds so Brainladdin could get a word or two in. Although Yakko had been trapped within a role, he still made everyone smile, he was protective, and he was kind.

“Hey.” Yakko tapped Brainladdin’s forehead. “You really oughta stop that brooding habit of yours.”

“I don’t brood. I ponder,” Brainladdin shot back, ridding himself of the watery veil in his eyes. Yakko provided him with a handkerchief, and Brainladdin blew his nose. The item poofed away. “Thanks, Yakko. For everything, and not just for convenient items you can create without obeying the laws of physics and other scientific fields.”

“Are you really gonna see the world?” Wakko asked, his eyes shining with wonder.

Wakko had expressed a desire to see the world many times before, but only so he could earn enough money to help Brainladdin put bread on the table. One of Brainladdin’s regrets about this elaborate plan falling through, really. Nobody, especially a child, should ever have to worry about rationing one loaf of bread and an apple to last a week.

Here was a prime opportunity for Wakko to experience the world without financial woes dragging him down from truly enjoying it, since Yakko could just create money and food as needed and serve as a somewhat responsible guardian for him.

Brainladdin didn’t ask though, but only because he didn’t know how to broach the topic. Wakko would never follow his own dream if he was constantly worried for Brainladdin, and it didn’t feel quite right to request something of Yakko so soon after his new freedom.  

Yakko nodded, wiping away a stray tear from his cheek. “Well, more than what I’m seeing right now, anyway. And really, it’s no problem-o. At least you guys aren’t boring. Can’t say the same about all the other masters I’ve had.”

“I’m gonna miss you,” Wakko admitted. He held up his arms, and Yakko scooped him up in an enormous hug. Wakko flopped like a sack of potatoes, nuzzling into Yakko’s fur.

“Heh, you too, kid,” Yakko murmured. “Boy, have you been filling up on the palace’s sweetcakes or something since we started this whole thing?”  

It wasn’t healthy sustenance by any means, but if Wakko was truly putting on weight, then Brainladdin saw no reason to complain.

Yakko shifted his brother so that he was secure in one arm, then set his other hand on the ground next to Brainladdin, who stepped into the offered palm. Yakko set Brainladdin on his shoulder, a gentle brush of magic preventing any accidental falls.

“Yakko…” Brainladdin could barely look him in the eye. “Though your antics could be somewhat over the top, you go about them with a certain degree of charm. And I suppose…I’ll miss you as well.”

“Awww, only somewhat over the top? Looks like I gotta up my game.” Yakko cracked a grin. Then he pushed his nose against Brainladdin’s, and while it was an odd feeling to be nuzzled on the nose, he didn’t push Yakko away either.

Wakko made an angry noise in the back of his throat.

Brainladdin shrugged. His dignity had been torn to shreds anyway. “I can learn to tolerate one more.”

And Wakko immediately closed the distance, his knee digging into Yakko’s smoky tail and somehow making him go ‘oomph’ even though there shouldn’t have been anything with substance there. Wakko’s nuzzle was somewhat rougher than Yakko’s, but it wasn’t anything Brainladdin couldn’t handle.

And this was long overdue, Brainladdin thought as he patted Wakko’s cheek. Had he ever done this while Wakko was awake and conscious to feel it? He wasn’t sure, but as Jaspinky taught him…it wasn’t too late to start.

“Who cares what anyone says? You guys are always gonna be royalty to me,” Yakko declared.  

Wakko closed his eyes and almost melted right there, and Yakko had to set him down carefully since the kid’s body composition seemed to be made out of shifting sand with all the physical contact. Brainladdin carefully climbed down Yakko’s arm and tried not to tear up again at his words.

Just as Brainladdin’s feet touched the ground, there was a furious scream from the door on the far side of the room.

“The Sultan-CEO is just…AHHHHHHH!” Dot shouted as she stomped across the tiled floor and slumped against the balcony railing, her head smacking against the metal bars. Her brothers threw their arms around her instantly, and her ire diminished, though she was still wracked with tension.  

Jaspinky trailed behind her, his shoulders and tail drooping, the golden band around his tail making sad tap-tap-tap noises.

Shoot. He was still crying.

“I’m sorry, Brainladdin.” Jaspinky twisted his tail between his hands. “Sultan-CEO-Mom’s still awfully mad. Some dictator from the kingdom of Dunlikus was supposed to meet with her but got caught in a whirlywind from Snowballjafar’s evil magic. She wouldn’t listen to us. But…Dot tried to convince her about you. She really did.”

“I believe you, Jaspinky,” Brainladdin quietly said as he patted Jaspinky’s back. Jaspinky sniffed once, twice, then intertwined his tail with Brainladdin’s. While Brainladdin’s tail was crooked and stiff from the amount of times he’d been roughly grabbed while stealing, Jaspinky’s was smooth and unblemished. “Did she say anything to Dot in particular?”  

It was rather interesting to watch Jaspinky’s tail flow with every unrestrained emotion. Yet it also served as a reminder of their very different social statuses.

Jaspinky nodded sadly. “She said Dot doesn’t have any good ideas cause she’s just a kid who doesn’t know how the real world works. But then…neither of us have really seen the world outside the palace. The magic carpet ride was my first time, and it really was a magical wonderful memory I’ll treasure forever. But Dot-well, how do we know how the world works if we’re stuck here?”

For all his oddities, Jaspinky could ask the most profound questions.

“You won’t.”

But Jaspinky couldn’t live in the city either. Brainladdin didn’t want Jaspinky’s kindred spirit snuffed out by the cynicism and roughness of the streets.  

Jaspinky winced, hurt shining in his blue eyes. Realizing his reply came out blunter than he intended, Brainladdin rubbed a circle into Jaspinky’s hand in a silent apology. Jaspinky lifted Brainladdin’s fez and planted a kiss on top of his head, then made a show of adjusting the fez.  

Brainladdin took Jaspinky by the hand and led him to the siblings. He wondered how exactly he’d come to have more physical contact in the past day than what he’d given and received in years. Truth be told, it was a terrifying yet exhilarating change. But it would also be tinged with bittersweet.

After Jaspinky, he doubted he’d be able to ever touch anyone like this ever again.  

“It’s okay-“ Yakko tried, hands held out to placate Dot.

“No, it’s not!”

Wakko was silent, but he was the first to spot Brainladdin and Jaspinky joining them. He gently turned Dot so that she was no longer glaring daggers into the buildings of ACMEbah. The fur around her eyes was damp with tears.

Jaspinky climbed up the skirt of Dot’s pink and white dress and perched on her shoulder, humming comfort into her ear. Dot stroked his head with her finger, and his foot kicked rapidly. She gave a tiny laugh.  

Which was excellent, because Brainladdin was rather weary of all the crying. “Jaspinky explained what happened with the Sultan-CEO,” he said. “Though it didn’t have the results you wanted, we’d like to commend your effort regardless.”

“What Brainladdin said!” Jaspinky chirped. “Remember that mean ol’ Chance O’ Ler from Turkey? He was so scared of Sultan-CEO-Mom that his pants changed colors! But you didn’t even flinch in front of her!”

“Hey, how come nobody invited me to witness all this?” Yakko pouted, holding up a dramatic Greek mask with an exaggerated frown. “I would’ve drawn pictures of that moment, you know! I’m getting really good with my sketches!”

He snapped his fingers, and five large scrolls materialized, each containing a drawing of everyone in their group. Brainladdin thought it was a surprisingly accurate representation of himself…

…except his hands resembled a lump with misshapen sausages for fingers attached.

It was the most glaring flaw in all the other scrolls too.

“Are those chain-link sausages?” Wakko asked, pointing to his own sketch. Brainladdin was just glad he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

“I like them!” Jaspinky said, wiggling his own fingers.

“It was mostly proportionate. But the hands leave a lot to be desired,” Brainladdin added.  

Dot only covered her mouth and ducked her head.

Yakko shrugged, the scrolls disappearing. “Private tutors and art references are hard to come by when you’re stuck in a lamp.”

Then Dot burst into laughter, Jaspinky chortling alongside her as her shoulders rapidly bounced up and down. She lightly struck the railing with her fist multiple times. There were tears again, but they came from joy rather than sadness.

“Those—ha! I can’t—Yakko, you really captured my good side…but oh my gosh-“ Dot could barely speak between breaths, a huge smile breaking out on her face.

Yakko winked at her. “Figured that would snap you outta it.”

Dot just hugged him back, and Yakko let out another ‘oomph’ as tiny yet strong arms encircled him. “Geez, what do you mice feed these kids?” he wheezed.

Jaspinky stood up, dusting his clothes off and trying a small test jump. “Zort! Brainladdin, catch me!”

A mass of fur, clothing, and narf crashed into Brainladdin, knocking him to the ground with no chance to prepare. He spat out a tassel from Jaspinky’s sleeve. The princess was way too cheerful about his impromptu belly flop.

Then Jaspinky sprang back up, helping Brainladdin to his feet as well. “Dot, I’m really happy to be your friend,” Jaspinky said. “But if Yakko doesn’t mind, I think it would be amazingly fun and wonderful if you could see the world for yourself.”

“Course I don’t mind!” Yakko exclaimed as he threw Dot into the air and caught her. “I’ll have to redo my travel itinerary, but it’ll be more fun that way! If I put Tahiti before Pennsylvania, we can go snorkeling with dolphins on a nice sunny Friday, no hold on a sec, China should be first cause it’s been way too long since I’ve had dumplings, and Greece can-“

“YAKKO, HOLD ON A SEC!” Dot shouted just as Yakko prepared to throw her again. She dangled somewhat precariously next to Yakko’s legs, but she didn’t seem to mind her position all that much.

It surprised Brainladdin that Yakko was willing to accept a new responsibility so readily, and he caught the wistful look on Wakko’s face when Yakko happily declared he’d love company on his trip, but he knew Wakko wouldn’t accept. From Dot’s forlorn expression as she glanced at Jaspinky, she wouldn’t take her chance either.

ACMEbah had a way of robbing everyone of a happy childhood. It appeared sadly common to every social class.

“I don’t take orders from anyone, not even princesses,” Dot growled. “And I’m not leaving you to the tender mercies of the Sultan-CEO or anyone who just wants a pretty face with money, Jaspinky.”

But Jaspinky shook his head. “You won’t have to worry about me though. Cause I’ll live in the city with Brainladdin and Wakko. So I won’t be alone!”

What? That is possibly the least reassuring thing you could’ve said right now, idiot!

Dot’s expression turned stormy. She was thinking along the same lines too.

“Did-did I say something wrong?” Jaspinky’s ears drooped. “I can do some good in the city. I-I never knew things were so bad. And I wanna help.”

“Put that fluff between your ears to use and think, Jaspinky!” Brainladdin snapped. Jaspinky’s mouth quivered. Brainladdin took a deep breath, mentally counting to ten before clasping Jaspinky’s hands between his own. “I…I’m sorry. For my outburst. But remind yourself of our first meeting in the marketplace. You meant well when you took the apple off the fruit stand and gave it to Wakko, but you barely understood the concepts of money and payment, and you completely froze when the shopkeeper barbarically tried to chop off your hand.”

“You saved me though,” Jaspinky said.

“Yes, but if the shopkeeper had been faster with his sword? If I was too far to help you? And your lack of a disguise was another issue. You waltzed into the marketplace with all your finery and no protection. Someone would notice eventually. The best case scenario? Your clothes and jewelry would’ve been stolen, but that’s all. And if someone chose to kidnap you for ransom or worse, the palace and royal guards would’ve been in an uproar. If that hypothetical situation came to pass, guess which group would be suspected first.”

“N-no,” Jaspinky whimpered. “I-I didn’t mean-“

“I know why you did though. You weren’t malicious, just naïve. There’s nothing to apologize for or forgive.” Brainladdin pulled Jaspinky’s head down until their cheeks touched. Jaspinky’s fur was a different sort of warm, not blistering hot like the desert sun, but more of a soft ray of light.

The princess had walked among the commoners for the same reason Brainladdin had disguised himself as a prince. Because he’d felt trapped by a societal role and just wanted to be free.

“Brainladdin?” Jaspinky’s voice was oddly distant.

“If you leave the safety of the palace—if they realize you’ve taken the lifestyle of a common street rat—they’ll hate you. Nobody will see you. But you’ll be blamed. For things you didn’t do…or just for trying to survive. And you’ll lose your good heart, Jaspinky. I can’t even protect Wakko from the consequences. But he’s already figured out some of it. So please…don’t…l-leave…”

Don’t leave the palace…don’t leave me…

Wakko’s hand rested against Brainladdin’s back. The child was always too generous for his own good. It was a quality that Brainladdin couldn’t bring himself to force Wakko to lose, as much as it was a detriment to his survival.

Brainladdin’s vision blurred, and he felt water leak out of his eyes against his will. He was going to die of dehydration at this rate. Jaspinky nuzzled his cheek, humming a meaningless tune into his ear.

The magic carpet ride had been one of the most awe-inspiring experiences of his life. Soft fabric beneath them, close quarters necessitating physical contact, a navy starlit sky above. Being weightless, being free from the worry of scavenging for scraps or taking over ACMEbah, being able to see the wonder in Jaspinky’s eyes as he touched a cloud for the first time…

They weren’t Brainladdin the street rat and Princess Jaspinky in the sky. No, there were no statuses to worry about, no pressures to conform to.

Jaspinky petting a wild horse as it galloped across the land. The stars twinkling in Jaspinky’s eyes. His excitement when he experienced something he’d never seen or done before.

Yet it would be nothing more than a wistful memory.

“They’re still trapped, you know. There’s gotta be something we can do,” a quiet voice said.

Wakko.

“Jaspinky. Brainladdin. You guys really love each other, don’t you?” Dot asked.

Brainladdin wiped his tears on his vest, not caring that it was one of the few pieces of clothing he owned. He looked up at Dot, who was seated on Yakko’s shoulders.

She’d been nothing more than an irritating obstacle when he tried to woo Jaspinky. But if it weren’t for her presence, Jaspinky likely would’ve been married to someone he didn’t love.

He really couldn’t fault her for hating the made-up Prince Brainli.

“He’s my world,” Brainladdin whispered, his voice barely audible, even to himself. He gave Jaspinky a tiny nuzzle, and Jaspinky’s tail intertwined with his own once again.

“And mine too,” Jaspinky agreed.  

Dot watched them for just a moment longer. Then her back straightened, her head tilting proudly. Her foot tapped against Yakko’s chest.

“As someone who’s secretly observed the Sultan-CEO’s political meetings and learned the do’s and don’ts of palace business, I’m the most qualified one here for the position of temporary Sultan-CEO,” she declared. “Yakko. A scroll and quill, if you please.”

Yakko grinned, and the requested items appeared. “Your wish is my command.”

“Thank you,” Dot said with a firm nod.

Brainladdin glanced at Jaspinky and Wakko, but they seemed just as confused as he was. He wasn’t sure if one could just declare themselves Sultan-CEO. That wasn’t really how it worked.

“I, acting Sultan-CEO Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the Third, also known as Dot, hereby decree that the Royal Marriage Law of 1175 is null and void, and from this day forth, the princess of ACMEbah shall marry whoever they deem worthy.”

The quill jotted Dot’s decree word for word on the scroll, every letter emblazoned with a golden shine.

“Now for the seal of approval!” Dot shouted.

Another flash of magic transformed Wakko into a black and white seal, the scroll was brought down to his nose level, and he gave the paper a large, slobbery lick. Then he clapped, his flippers beating together as Yakko tossed several fish fillets into his mouth.

Then the scroll disappeared, and Wakko transformed back, white bits of fish still coating his mouth.

“This new decree is non-negotiable and binding,” Yakko said. “And I’ve also taken the liberty of framing, enlarging, and sticking it in a palace hallway our dear power-hungry Sultan-CEO frequents. She won’t be able to remove it no matter how hard she tries.”  

As if on cue, there was a distant horrified scream that practically blew one of the domed roofs of the palace off.

What just happened? She can really do that?

Jaspinky squealed in glee, right next to Brainladdin’s ear. He barely had time to rub the sensitive hairs before Jaspinky lifted him into the air and spun him around so fast that he saw more stars than the sun in broad daylight. And they were absolutely beautiful.

“I choose you, Brainladdin!” Jaspinky exclaimed. His laughter was like a melody, Brainladdin losing himself in the music, and he was probably grinning like a fool too but he no longer cared about that because he could be with Jaspinky, and there was an entire world for them and them alone!

Brainladdin clung to Jaspinky’s shoulders, steadying himself as Jaspinky set him down again. He brushed Pinky’s jewelry out of the way, and Jaspinky pressed his forehead against his own.

“Call me Brain,” Brainladdin murmured, and he held Jaspinky close.  

They were no longer trapped. They were free. They could be together.

His heart quickened, and it was an exhilarating feeling indeed.

“Alright, everyone into the group hug!” Yakko shouted, and a giant hand scooped them up. Brainladdin was instantly sandwiched between Jaspinky and Wakko, Dot squeezing herself into the crook of Yakko’s arm on Jaspinky’s opposite side. It was getting hard to breathe, but he couldn’t tell if that was from the force of Yakko’s hug or a side effect of the emotionally charged atmosphere. “Now that we’re all done baring our souls.”

“Thank you, Dot!” Jaspinky exclaimed, hugging the girl’s cheek. “Thankyousomuch! And now that I’ve got Brainladdin staying with me, you should go with Yakko! No ifs or buts, young lady!”

Dot smirked. “You just wanna get rid of me so you can do stuff with Brainladdin.” There was something sneaky in her voice that Brainladdin heavily disliked. “But I’ll gladly take this vacation.”

“I could never get rid of you, Dot! You’re my best handmaiden!” Jaspinky protested.

“Simmer, Jaspinky,” Brainladdin said, and the princess relaxed. “She’s only teasing. That being said, I highly detest her tone.”

He gave Dot a pointed glare, and she casually placed her elbow against Yakko’s arm. “You’re not a complete jerk, but if I were as bigheaded as you, I’d avoid most of the rooms on the southern side. I still haven’t disabled the booby trapped perfume bottles that spray catfish guts yet. You’ll be mostly safe on the east side though.”  

“And you’re not a complete brat. Just an annoyingly clever one,” he muttered.  

Dot looked all too pleased with herself.

At least he’d finally confirmed who rigged that perfume bottle on his second night as Prince Brainli in the palace.

“Perfect!” Yakko exclaimed, and confetti showered down on everyone. “So any particular places in mind? A change of scenery would do you some good!”

“Burbank. Machu Picchu. Rome,” Dot said. “I’ll come up with more later. You got any ideas, Wakko?”

Wakko shook his head, only staring at the ground far below them.

“Wakko? Wakster? Wakaroo?” Yakko frowned, gently shaking Wakko, who only went limp. “C’mon, we know you’ve got places you wanna visit. Mostly for the exotic food, right?”

“Sorry. I’d love to go, but-“ Wakko’s face fell.

This wasn’t like before, where Brainladdin refused to let Wakko venture outside ACMEbah. Now neither of them would be alone in this world.

“Look at me, Wakko.” Brainladdin held onto one of Wakko’s fingers with both hands, and the boy obeyed. “As the soon-to-be ruler of ACMEbah, I will be living in the palace with Jaspinky. There’s no more need for concern. And you have a somewhat responsible brother and an irritatingly capable sister who will always have your back. Your new objective is to explore the world for yourself, and if you try to send money back or work yourself to the bone, I shall have to ground you.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Wakko snatched him up for an enormous hug. Brainladdin gasped for air, fairly certain one lung was punctured and his left kidney had been knocked out of place from the tight squeeze.

“Oxygen!” he wheezed. Wakko relented and returned him to Jaspinky, who was more of a white and blue blur than a mouse right now.

“Faboo, Dad!” Wakko exclaimed, much to Yakko and Dot’s joy.

“Yes, faboo indeed,” Brainladdin muttered, a dizzy spell from the lack of oxygen overtaking him. He slumped against Jaspinky. “I expect a letter every night, Wakko.”

If Wakko replied, his voice was lost in Yakko and Dot’s chatter over their travel plans. Brainladdin and Jaspinky were deposited on the balcony, Brainladdin finally recovering his vision so he could see the siblings off.

“Bye-bye! Bring back souvenirs! Troz!” Jaspinky shouted, his jewelry jingling as he waved goodbye to the siblings.

“Farewell for now,” Brainladdin said, crossing his arms over his chest. Best to act like he was ruling ACMEbah after all. He tried not to squeeze too tightly, if only to stop the slight ache in his chest from all this emotional nonsense.  

“You heard them! Let’s blow this popsicle stand!” Yakko shouted, and he shot into the sky like a firework with Wakko and Dot in his arms. The two screamed in delight, their laughter echoing off the buildings of ACMEbah. “Let’s give the lovebirds some space!”

“We’re history!” Dot yelled.

“We’re mythology!” Wakko added.

“I DON’T CARE WHAT WE ARE! WE’RE FREE!”

In a shower of magic, they shot across the sky and were gone, off to tour the world to celebrate their new lives.

Jaspinky waved to the sky for a moment longer, then turned to Brainladdin, that stupid, silly, wonderful smile on his face. “I’ve got sweetcakes and tea in the kitchen. Do you want any?”

Brainladdin rolled his eyes. “Don’t ask stupid questions, Jaspinky.”

They headed to the kitchen, walking hand-in-hand, never to be separated again.

o-o-o-o-o

Colorful fireworks burst around them, lighting up the night sky in flares of red and green and blue. The stars shone from above, the earth and all its worries far beneath them. A breeze tugged them along, the magic carpet pulling this way and that with no clear destination in mind. But they didn’t need one.

Whichever way the winds blow, as they say.

“Look, Brainladdin! Another letter!” Jaspinky pointed to a paper drifting towards them, protected by a cloud of Yakko’s magic. He leaned over the side in his excitement to grab it out of the air. Brainladdin kept hold of Jaspinky’s tail just in case, though the magic carpet was sentient enough to lift that side up to prevent accidental falls. The letter floated into Pinky’s hand, and he scrambled back to Brainladdin, showing off the letter proudly. “It’s a J! Wakko’s very good with oregano. I wish he’d teach me!”

He really should’ve been more clear with his expectations for Wakko.  

“That’s a Y, Jaspinky. And oregano is a spice. This is the paper craft known as origami.” Brainladdin tucked the Y inside the folds of his royal robe for safekeeping. It would go nicely with the W and D that were already on his nightstand.

“Oh. Well then, it’s a very nice Y!”

“Yes, it’s constructed well.”

Another firework flared, and Jaspinky oohed and awwed at the wondrous sight, his eyes ever an innocent, pretty blue. He’d picked a new outfit for tonight: a purple crop top with matching pants and headband, a see through, puffy material that framed his bare shoulders wonderfully, and golden earrings.

The fireworks paled in comparison.

Jaspinky gasped in awe. “Look, Brainladdin! A shooting star! What’d you wish for?”

Brainladdin glanced at the canopy above, where a meteor shower zipped through the upper atmosphere. “You first.”

“Narf! Alright. I wished for a world where we can all be happy! Your turn!”

Sentimental, yet thoughtful. Of course.  

“I wish…for our lives to be fulfilling.”

Jaspinky smiled. “Looks like our wishes came true then.”

“An astute observation,” Brainladdin said.  

Jaspinky kissed him, and warmth flooded through Brainladdin’s body. They soared into the starry horizon, the full moon shining from afar. A new world awaited them.

AN: This…uh…this is way longer than I intended it to be. I hope you enjoyed this story. This is my first time writing the Warner siblings, so I combined some of the posts Deez-art made about this AU for my characterization of them. I apologize if they were out of character, but I did have fun with them. Especially Dot. For some reason her dialogue is just fun to write.

Also, Brain angsts too easily. That’s why this story is almost 7000 words.

Some of the dialogue comes directly from the 1992 Aladdin movie.

I HAVE LISTENED TO A WHOLE NEW WORLD HOW MANY TIMES FOR THIS STORY. THIS ISN’T THE FIRST TIME I’VE DONE THIS EITHER. I NEED NEW LOVE SONGS.

As for why this story is published on AO3 instead of FFN, it’s just easier to tag this sort of thing there.

[readingsbylibramc]

birth chart reading for @lemoncakelynx11

hello! welcome to your reading. I’m gonna give you a quick overview of what I’m going to analyze about your natal chart. feel free to ask me anything if something isn’t clear, of course. you’ll find out your dominants’ influence on your persona, your physical appearance, impression on others and the way you approach the world; your ego, identity, the real you; your reactions, your desires, inner emotions; your way of expressing your feelings, your mind and ideas; your desires and approach to love; your energy tank, instincts and temperament; in-depth analysis of each house with their rulers and analysis of heavy aspects; love life + soulmates/karmic partners interpretation; your relationship with your friends; your family life; your approach to career and work in general + possible jobs suggestion; your style, fashion sense analysis; life purpose and past life description; basic transits’ analysis to describe your current mood and, last but not least, your secret skills, how to make the most out of your soul and manifest what you desire based on your birth chart.

🦋 chart shape, dominants

your chart is a locomotive shape. this means that you're a very ambitious person, with a lot of energy. the moon has a big influence on you, and your life revolves around understanding your feelings and emotional growth. the empty part of your life is what you have to develop, hence your family, financial life and also your communication and thinking style.

your dominant planets are pluto, mars and jupiter. you are a very ambitious person, you probably have big goals for your life and you're strongly driven to achieve them all. you are very open-minded and intelligent, you could be quite spiritual and you may believe in fate. you could experience some karma in this lifetime, you may have ti endure some challenges to pay some karmic debts from your past lives, but once you learn the lesson you'll become very positive and optimistic.

your dominant sign is scorpio. you may have trust issues and be quite of a loner, yet once you commit to someone, you'll be in for a long ride. you are very deep, both mentally and emotionally. you may struggle with power control, as you may have the perception that people are trying to take advantage of you due to your insecurities. because of that, you may also get quite possessive and bossy.

your dominant element is water. you're very intuitive and empathetic, you care a lot about others, and you may seem like a healer to people you know. in fact, you always try to help them if you can, almost in a therapeutic way. you're also very spiritual, and you're attracted to anything related to discovering your higher self and soul purpose.

🌎 ascendant in pisces, 1° / 1st decan ruled by neptune

you appear as a very genuine and honest person. you have a reassuring aura about you, which could attract people to you. in fact, you seem and sound like a healer, hence broken people may find comfort in you. you’re an hopeless romantic, and this may make you look sort of naive, almost childlike. you feel the need to revolution the world, there’s an hidden rebel in you that needs change and justice. yet, you struggle to take action. it’s like your assertiveness is stuck deep inside of you, and you can’t take it out. hence, you cope with this through escapism; you may oversleep, overwork, drink, daydream, do drugs… anything that allows your mind to travel away from your sense of justice. you always want to be seen likeable, hence you may act differently based on the situation you’re in. you’re kind of a chameleon. in fact, pisces usually adopts some characteristics from all the signs, that’s why it’s considered confusing, or even fake. identity issues are also common with this placement, as you may feel the need to be part of a group, yet you can’t. you’re too complex to be part of only one category, you can’t classify yourself. you may often be, or at least look, sleepy. your eyes have a very dreamy look on them, and they’re probably very big and round. possibly, they’re also hooded. your skin may be naturally pale, or at least there’s something light on your face, even like some tiny sparkles in your eyes. you may also have a naturally good skin, and I’ve noticed that pisces rising people tend to have distinctive hands? for example, you may have long fingers or beautiful, natural long nails.

pisces ascendant conjunct pisces moon: this placement makes you look even softer than the typical pisces rising. in fact, you're kind of a cancer rising for some traits: you can read people's mood very well, it's easy for you to understand whether someone is sad, angry, happy... because of that, you always try to make people feel at ease, you're always kind with people, and that makes you extremely likeable. also, since the moon rules over feelings and the inner you, you're probably a very genuine person. it's hard for you to hide your real emotions, and even if you wanted to hide them you wouldn't be capable, you're not fake. you could also have frequent mood swings. you have a strong sense of family and comfort to you, and hence it's extremely essential for you feel at ease to truly be yourself. you may also resemble your mother more than your father.

🌞 sun in scorpio, 22° / 3rd decan ruled by pluto and the moon

you're quite of a loner, you prefer spending time alone rather than with others. you're extremely intuitive, and you can read people like a book; they can't lie or keep secrets from you, you'll surely find out. you're pretty charismatic, and paired with your wise intellect it's hard not to agree with your ideas, especially considering that your moon is in pisces. you're basically a leader, a very demanding one. you have high standards regarding everything: clothes, food, goals, people... you're always striving for the best, you don't want to settle down. on the other hand, even though it may take you a while to find someone worthy of your affection, once that someone shows up you'll stay with them forever. you're deeply loyal, and also caring in your own way. that's because you value feelings, you can easily smell when someone isn't trustworthy. you're probably very protective of your friends and loved ones in general, sometimes even too much. this could even escalate and become a more serious issue, as scorpio is also the planet of obsession, after all. it's common for you to feel your emotions x2, as they're too intense to handle. you know everything about others, but you don't show off and gossip about it. actually, you keep the info for yourself and use it when you need it.

scorpio sun conjunct scorpio mars: with this placement, you may be way more straight-forward. you are very impulsive and honest above all, you say things as they are. you're able to be very brave when you want to, and even if you do get emotionally hurt, you know how to stand up for yourself again. you strive to achieve your goals and make your dreams come true, you're an hard-worker. some may call you impatient, and you may actually be, but in reality you just can't wait for things to happen. for example, let's suppose you're going to the mall to buy the playstation you always wanted. you'd start only thinking and talking about that playstation until you actually get it in your hands. you get easily excited. also, this is another placement that indicates that is hard not to notice you. you have a very strong charisma that makes others stare. you strive to be the number #1 at whatever you do, you're a serious competitor and you'd do anything to win and achieve your goals.

🌙 moon in pisces, 6° / 1st decan ruled by neptune

hands down my favourite moon sign! you're extremely empathetic and sensitive, you care a lot about others and you treat others' problems as if they were yours, you get totally immersed in them. you have quite a vivid imagination, you're able to idealize and picture anything you want. while this placement gives you an incredible amount of creativity, it can also make you uncomfortable. in fact, you may actually find yourself imagining every detail of every situation, even the worst ones. let's suppose you hear of a rape at the news; you literally start imagining the scene detail by detail, and it makes you extremely uncomfortable. actually, it literally ruins your mood, as it's as if you actually lived that scene. going back to the creativity matter, you have the soul of an artist; you have very enhanced emotions, and you're able to express them through artistic outlets. you could be amazing at writing poetry, books, art, music... also, your particular empathy of human's intellect can also make you an amazing psychologist or actress, as you're able to understand others' feelings and make them your own. you're extremely spiritual, and if you don't feel like that, you just have yet to have your spiritual awakening. you may be able to talk to spirits, for example, or perhaps you have very meaningful dreams. or maybe, you could literally predict the future through them. you're also most probably an avid daydreamer, you tend to get distracted easily because you're too busy thinking about random scenarios in your head. seriously, you could even make a movie out of them. you're also an hopeless romantic, and you dream of finding not just your spouse, but your literal soulmate. to make it simple, you want all of your daydreams to become reality.

pisces moon square sagittarius mercury: your thoughts and feelings are constantly in contrast with each other. your sagittarius mercury desires freedom and social interactions, your pisces moon wants intimacy and privacy. this results in indecisiveness, you change your mind pretty often, and that can cause you conflicts due to communication problems. you're also pretty opinionated, you don't hide your feelings when you act by impulse, even though you may feel guilty about it: you are very sensitive, you want to treat people well, but you could be impulsive or sarcastic and hurt people. at least, the positive side of this placement is that you're probably very intellectual, capable of taking in consideration both the subjective and objective side of an argument.

pisces moon opposite virgo jupiter: you enjoy making different experiences and living your life to the fullest, making you also a risk-taker. you may lack self-control. with this trait you get bored easily, and you may have a reputation for being flaky. you tend to overindulge; you may spend too much money, or even develop eating disorders like binge-eating. at least, you're able to build your life again and have a fresh start, but you risk to get stuck in this cycle. you have the potential to master different talents, but you may struggle to develop them due to this placement. you're a procrastinator, and you find it hard to focus on more things at the same time. you may also attract people with different beliefs and ideas from you, causing you to fall out with them easily. there are also positive sides to this placement, though! you're probably naturally lucky, even though luck may not always be by your side. you have a nice sense of humor, making you more likeable to contrast your scorpio rising.

🗣 mercury in sagittarius, 14° / 2nd decan ruled by jupiter and mars

you say things impulsively, you're bluntly honest, and this could often hurt people around you. in addition, you like having the last word, despite being proven wrong sometimes. you have a knack for wisdom, you love being and looking smart. you're the type to spend the whole day reading and analyzing philosophical quotes and then make them your own, applying them to your life. you want to be and feel experienced, hence you may inform yourself about a variety of topics just for the sake of knowing them, perhaps you're not even that much interested in them. you could go from talking about politics to astrology, your mind is quite messy but still very full. you may possibly have a youthful voice, and sometimes you can speak in a loud volume without even realizing it. you may also exaggerate your words a lot, for example you might have got a single scratch on your cheek and call it a gash. you could possibly also be the type to joke over your own feelings, and then obviously get mad at others when they do the same with you.

sagittarius mercury square virgo jupiter: this placement emphasizes your intellect. your mind is so broad that you can come up with different theories and philosphies, making you a sort of genius. you're probably good at memorizing things, and you could even have a photographic memory. yet, with this aspect, you may have troubles being consistent with your ideas. you may overestimate your needs and thoughts; for example, you may promise yourself to get all As in maths, then you get tired and bored and you end up getting Cs. same goes for your handwriting, for example: you may start writing in the best way possible, then you get lazy and end up writing in a sloppy way just to take notes. you also overthink a lot, and that causes you self-esteem issues. on the other hand, you're very open-minded and objective, as you look at the big picture. you'd do very well as a journalist, for example, or perhaps also as a judge of any kind. you may also be naturally skilled at foreign languages, you can mimic accents pretty well. you're probably also very poetic and / or wise, you're like a teacher for your friends.

❤️ venus in libra, 6° / 1st decan ruled by venus

love this placement! you're very romantic, especially with your heavy pisces energy. you're not looking for a partner, you're looking for a whole disney prince(ss). you do care about looks when choosing a lover, but not necessarily a conventionally beautiful person. they have to appear perfect to your eyes, and this usually depends on the way they treat you. in fact, you despise vulgar, rude people. people that act like that immediately become unattractive to you. you're also very picky, exactly because you're looking for the perfect lover. you're probably the type to cry at movies. you're also quite of a cliche; you're into roses, romantic dinners, sunsets... anything romantic that you hear about in fairytales. the problem with this placement is that you may overestimate the people you frequent, ending up having different expectations from reality.

☄️ mars in scorpio, 20° / 3rd decan ruled by pluto and the moon

you’re an extremely goal-oriented person. you want to be the best at everything you do, not only to be better than others but also the best for yourself. you’re very astute, it’s impossible to trick you, and you always find a way to be in charge and get what you want. yet, you can get quite obsessed about your goals, that you could do extreme things to get what you want. in fact, people with this placement can even manipulate others, as they’re totally capable of doing that. in addition, your venus being in libra makes you extremely charming. people are naturally attracted to you, you have a way with words, and hence you’re always able to convince others into giving you what you want. but luckily, this doesn’t turn into manipulation, you probably don’t even realize this skill of yours, and hence you don’t use it to damage others. you are very persuasive, but you don't do it on purpose, you could actually be a little naive. when you get angry, you could actually get scary, though. your emotions are very intense, it’s hard to calm you down. mixed with your sagittarius mercury, you may be very sarcastic and aggressive with your words. you could hurt people, but you don’t do it on purpose. most of the time, you don’t even mean the things you say. you may also vent your anger with physical action, hence you could slam doors, punch or break things etc.

🏡 houses

your 1st house is in pisces. you are like a chameleon, you're able to detect others' vibe and act in a pleasant way for them, you probably get along with strangers easily. you're very sensitive, but also slightly insecure. in your first years, I assume you had troubles embracing your appearance. you may have felt ashamed of it, and you self-esteem was low. you may have amazing artistic talents and a large imagination. yet, you may often live too much in your imagination. with the moon sitting here, you're also very sensitive about other's feelings, you tend to absorb their energy and hence it's exhausting for you to socialize. you're also a very genuine person, you don't hide your feelings, you show it all on your face. the ruler of the 1st house is in the 11th house: people may see you as very friendly and original, maybe also mysterious. you may also seem very distracted, perhaps even a bit moody. you have a poweful vibe around you, and you may also have a sixth sense or acute intuition.

your 2nd house is in aries. aries is ruled by mars, the planet of action. placed in the house of money and self-esteem, you could make money easily and fast. you could find yourself receiving money from others quite often, or perhaps you're able to get jobs that allow you to earn a decent income. you may also react easily to diets, workouts, but also when you overeat. you may both gain and lose weight easily. possibly, you could speak very fast and / or loud and you may even suffer from hyperthyroidism. the ruler of the 2nd house is in the 6th house: your future career will allow you to earn a great amount of money. you could be quite wealthy already, or perhaps you'll get so wealthy that you'll gain a reputation for it. you may work with money, so for example as a notary, or even with food or aesthetics / arts. you may also make money from helping people, therefore you could work in the health field for example, or even with animals. you may even come from a wealthy family, or perhaps you're going to get an inheritance. you may possibly marry someone rich as well.

your 3rd house is in taurus. this placement makes you extremely good at making your ideas concrete. for example, if you have in your head the melody of a song, you don’t just hum to it, nor you daydream about how it may turn out. you actually write it down and play it, and it’s good for you to have such a placement with your heavy pisces energy. you can also gain money from these hobbies. the ruler of the 3rd house is in the 7th house: your job may involve communication, you'll most probably interact with other people in your future career. or maybe, you might write stuff, hence you could be a writer, a journalist, etc. possibly, you would do well as a therapist too. also, you could often have to do short trips to reach your college / work place, perhaps in a bus for example.

your 4th house is in gemini. you’ve always been a smart kid, that’s probably what your childhood revolved around. you most likely were a diligent student, and your parents took a lot of pride in your marks. you might have been really chatty with your friends, and maybe you used to get scolded because of that. your parents could have been a little strict with you, therefore you probably used to argue often, but nothing too serious. I don't see you having any kind of trauma from your home environment. the ruler of the 4th house is in the 10th house: you could find your career thanks to your family, or perhaps you're going to pursue the career you desired as a child. you may also work with your family, you may have a business with them, or at least you are going to find a job in your natal city/country. you may also meet your future spouse at work.

your 5th house is in cancer. when it comes to light romance, you mainly look for someone caring and affectionate who can help you to grow up and make new experiences. you’re attracted to hobbies that let you express your feelings and emotions. e.g, you may create very personal art or poetry. you may also prefer spending your spare time by yourself at home rather than going out with your friends. it's your way of relaxing and expressing your feelings, you may have hobbies that meet your emotional needs. you may have spiritual hobbies, that is meditation, yoga, tarots, astrology, religion, etc. you're also most likely an homebody, you don't like clubbing and going out, you prefer staying by yourself or with your loved ones.

your 6th house is in cancer. you may find yourself often having diseases around the stomach, breast area. your periods may be quite painful, too. this placement also indicates that there might be someone in your family that works in the health field, hence there could be a surgeon, a nurse, a therapist, a nutriotionist, a vet, etc. you may choose a career that allows you to work from home as well, or perhaps you may work with children, families or houses in general. going back to health, you may also struggle with mental health throughout your life. you may fall into depression for example, or you may suffer from an eating disorder. generally, you have a better physical health than mental.

your 7th house is in virgo, with also venus and jupiter placed there. when it comes to love you’re quite picky, and you want your future spouse to match your definition of perfection. hence, you may start losing interest in them as soon as they commit a mistake, even if it’s not serious. because of that, you may often experience break-ups, or even separation/divorce, even though I don't think it's your case; mercury is both well-aspected and well-placed, so I wouldn't worry if I were in you. you're definitely more romantic than the typical scorpio sun. as your pisces moon confirms, you need to feel tied to someone to function at your best. you want everybody to like you, you fear rejection and being humiliated. your reputation is very important for you, and that could lead you to be extremely insecure when others judge you negatively, you're easy to influence. you could fall in love easily, you may experience love at first sight often, therefore you may sometimes struggle to commit, but thanks to your pisces energy you're not a player. lastly, you could find yourself often thinking about your relationships with others, and also you try to be extremely kind with your words.

your 8th house is in libra, with also your mars and pluto conjunction there. you have a very balanced approach to matters like secrets and sex. for you it’s all about giving and receiving; for example, you may only open up to a friend when they also reveal their deepest secrets to you. you don’t want to feel below them, it’s a sort of mechanism to feel as if you have control of the situation. possibly, you may also experience a lot karma around your relationships. you could date people from your past lives for example, hence your soulmates. or perhaps, when you do something wrong in a relationship, it'll most likely come back to you. yet, these moments help you becoming more mature and transforming into the best version of yourself. at the same time, when someone hurts you they'll also have to learn a karmic lesson. as a scorpio mars, you may tend to hold a grudge, but you really don't have to wastw your energies like this. the universe will handle it for you.

your 9th house in scorpio, with also the sun sitting there. you literally gave all of yourself in school, even though you might have had some troubles. maybe there were a few bullies/mean girls that caused you troubles, or perhaps your parents influenced your studies too much and you ended up choosing something that you didn't like. yet, scorpio here indicates that school helped you transforming and growing up. you probably learnt a big lesson in school that helped you appreciating yourself more for who you are. overall, you went through major transformations during your school life, which helped you to find who you are today. maybe, you’ve changed class/school often, as you frequently changed your mind about the subjects you wanted to study. with the sh here, you’re an open-minded person who’s probably into history, literature/poetry, philosophy etc. you may also have a knack for studying different languages and travelling a lot, as they help you increase your creativity and hence your inner child. you are an extremely wise person, and you believe strongly in your beliefs. you rarely change your mind, but most of the time you’re an open-minded person. you love learning about anything, and you may also have a good memory. in fact, it’s common for you to be the one who explains things and possibly even leads a group, and this could unluckily make you seem as a know-it-all. you do take pride in your wisdom, indeed. your deep way of thinking is also where your desire for freedom comes from, as you wish to be able to expand yourself through travelling and new experiences. you may also be attracted to foreign things, such as foreign literature, fashion, art, music etc. it’s another way to travel and open your mind, without actually having to leave your house when you’re busy.

your 10th house is in sagittarius, with also your mercury placed there. you may gain a reputation for being very joyful and open-minded. you could possibly work abroad, speaking a different language. you may also have the chance to work in a school environment, and deal with people from any country or culture. you find pleasure and energy in work, it's your way to feel free and independent, even it you may work under a boss. it's also where you put most of all your energy, you're very goal-oriented and you strive to be the best at whatever you do. your future career will most likely feel very light to you; you could use your creativity to work, hence you could be a singer, a stylist, an artist, a writer... perhaps, you could even work with children in some way, maybe as a teacher since your mc is in sagittarius, or maybe you could work as a stylist as well. anything that allows you to interact with others would be suitable for you.

your 11th house is in capricorn, withalso neptune and uranus sitting there. you’re very picky with your friends, and you tend to be quite serious in friendships and social interactions. you may crack some jokes, but you take loyalty very seriously. at first, you may also find yourself not having many friends. you only started to get to know new people while growing up. the 11th house is also the house of goals, and you work hard to achieve them. you're very assertive from this point of view, you'd do anything to make your dreams come true. you love working in groups, especially if you're the leader. once someone becomes special to you, you'll do anything to protect them. you're an hardworking person who dreams big, you may be fond of manifesting and you hope to achieve all of your many goals.

your 12th house is in aquarius, with also your saturn placed here. there's an hidden rebel inside of you who has the desire to change the world. yet, you can't seem to free this part of yourself. you're a very spiritual person. you may have the natural talent to read tarots, birth charts... you may also have strange, prophetic dreams. in addition, you may feel uncomfortable diving into your feelings at first, you may tend to be a bit too rational and cold during your first years. you may keep your feelings for yourself, but growing up you'll learn that it's fine to show your true self to others as well, and you'll value your mental health more. you may often find the answers to fight your fears into spiritual outlets, such as astrology for example.

❤️ love life, soulmates

in love, you attract virgo, taurus, libra, sagittarius, capricorn and cancer. your future spouse will most probably have capricorn and virgo placements. they could be quite self-centered at first, they'll have an exceptional charisma and they will care a lot about their reputation. yet, there's an hidden side to them that is quite insecure and unstable, that wants to find someone to trust. basically, you'll see eye to eye on a lot of matters. you could meet in a fun situation; it could be at a party, for example, or any kind of social gathering. maybe, you may even meet them online. they are most likely from abroad, and they could be a good friend of yours as well.

👶🏻 family life

your mother is a very intelligent person, she's probably very talkative and witty, and she also has a nice sense of humor, even though she could be a bit immature or self-centered at times. she most likely has gemini or sagittarius placements in her chart, together with pisces and / or virgo. your father is also very funny and sociable, he's probably quite extroverted even though he might be more strict than your mother. he’s probably interested in foreign languages/culture. he may be an aquarius, a sagittarius, a gemini or libra. if you have siblings, they probably have taurus, libra, or earth placements. probably, you have an amazing relationship with them, you hardly argue and you're all very mature.

📊 career

as I've already mentioned above, you're going to pursue a career that will allow you to interact with others. you would probably do amazing at a job that requires you to help people, you could make a great nurse, therapist or psychologist for instance, you're going to be a very nurturing figure for others. you may also work as a teacher of any kind, not necessarily a professor or school teacher. I definitely see you being successful in whatever you choose, you could become very independent and financially stable thanks to your job. possibly, you may also have a business with your future spouse or family. you could also work with children or for family, as a counselor for example. anything that allows you to interact with and help others would be great for you, as it would make you more empathetic and sensitive to the external world.

👕 fashion sense, style analysis

you’re very traditional about your clothes, maybe even basic. you’re the type to have lots of essential clothes in your wardrobe, e.g a white shirt, white t-shirt, jeans etc. you love wearing sophisticated, elegant fits. for example, you may be fond of wide leg jeans, or maybe flare trousers, boatneck sweaters, tiny jewellery… things like that, that are always a must have. you may fancy pastel colors, or even neutral shades like black, white, grey, beige etc. you’re also the type to follow fashion trends.

👁 past life, life purpose

in your past life time, you didn’t have a specific priority. you just enjoyed wandering with your mind and creativity, allowing yourself to relax with your friends. you used to depend on someone else, not really on yourself. this lifetime, you need to establish your independence AND solid boundaries, not just those you used to daydream about. don’t be afraid to let your inner child out; go to amusement parks, binge-watch netflix, date your crushes, have an hobby, play videogames… you could also play with actual children. anything that brings fun out of you, and that puts a genuine smile on your face. yet, don’t forget that this lifetime of yours revolves around accomplishing your goals.

🤔 major transits analysis / july 17th

transit moon is currently conjunct your libra venus in the 7th house, while transit pisces jupiter is also making a conjunction to your ascendant and moon. you may be feeling very positive and energetic in these days! you are more optimistic than usual, you could be feeling well both physically and mentally. you may feel more sociable, you want to spend time with others or at least with your closed friends. yet, be careful not to be too impulsive, don't spend too much money to cope with your problems. focus on nurturing your feelings and relationships, it's the perfect time to do that.

🧿 manifest what you want, secret skills

with your water placements, you probably have a 6th sense. you’re able to manifest what you want if you subconsciously predict it, even though it may be hard. you’d have to get in touch with your higher self to do so, and hence I would suggest you to light up some candles and meditate for a bit before manifesting, in this way it will be way more effective. you may manifest something while daydreaming, for example. or perhaps, you can also try listening to your own affirmations while you sleep, as you won’t be consciously aware of that. it’s probably the most effective way.

and this is it! thank you again for booking a reading :) hope it resonated with you!

-libramc xx

[charmingmarchioness]

Vow of Everlasting Love - PART 3

After the wedding ceremony, A grand banquet was held at the main mansion of the Bougainvillea to celebrate the union of Gilbert and Violet Bougainvillea.

The whole place was covered in joyous laughter. Their friends and families gave them a short and meaningful messages, making the couple tearfully happy. The two shared a lovely and intimate dance in the center of the crowd. The sparkle in their eyes are evident and it was truly magical. Violet sang a song and played the piano as a sign of gratitude for everyone. People began complementing her talent and viewed her as a perfect masterpiece.

Everytime they interact with the guests, Gilbert cannot help but hug Violet tightly where he happily earned a blush. He simply wants to be alone with her right now.

After making sure that everyone is busy, Gilbert suddenly carried Violet like a princess and escaped the crowd like a mad man. Those who noticed the sudden disappearance of the two began laughing hardly.

"Gilbert, I did not know you're that eager to be alone with her. Ah how time flies." Hodgins hysterically laughed.

"Brother Gil is indeed a pervert fu fu I can't wait for a cute angel to be born already!" Henrietta squeeked in delight.

"I want the baby to look a lot like Vi!"

"I couldn't agree for more HAHAHA."

Gilbert stopped in front of a slightly big door. Violet who was clinging on his neck, reddened, as she recognized Gilbert's room. He locked the door once they're inside the room and slowly went to the bed where he gently put her there in a sitting position.

"Are you scared?"

"That's not it. The love that I continue to receive from you is too overwhelming, to the point I end up thinking that this is just a wonderful dream." She said in a teary face. Gilbert smiled at her cute reaction. His forehead touches hers while he fondly caress her back.

"Violet, this is not a dream. You are now my Mrs. Bougainvillea, my one and only wife." His heart pounded loudly when Violet suddenly kissed his lips and giggled softly at his reaction. He was too shock to respond. She too, caressed his cheeks and said,

"Yes. You are now my husband. And, it is my duty as a wife to give you a child. No, I simply want a child with you, Lord Gilbert. I...I wanted to love you more deeply. Will you accept my scar-ridden body?" She said in a sad voice. Gilbert was surprised and at that moment, a single tear escaped from his eye, making Violet alarmed.

"Oh no! Did I say something wrong." Gilbert shook his head, kisses her soft lips, and hugged her in a very affectionate manner.

'Forgive me. I caused all of that. Please punish this foolish husband of yours, for I can't help but love you more and more and more.' He thought while he stares into her deep ocean eyes.

"Violet, you are the only woman that I desire and no matter what form you take, I will simply accept all of you. You are far more beautiful than the existence of life itself. I love you, my wife." The words that he conveyed made her heart burst in so much happiness.

"I am glad." She sheepishly smiled while they kissed.

At that moment, the two desperately declares their love for each other as they danced in unbearably heat. As the two finally became one, the passion, desire, lust and overwhelming love that has been stored over the years is making them drowned in the wildly beautiful world of euphoria. With that wonderfully spectacle performance, Gilbert happily spilled his heated sperm deep inside the womb of his beloved wife, as they gladly wish for a child to be born, as a testimony for the love that they have for each other.

5 years later...

"Good morning, sweetie. Are you hungry?" Gilbert asked his 5 years old daughter whose name is Violace (Vyo-la-say). She sleepily nod at him and rest her cute head into his shoulder once again. Gilbert is currently carrying her with his arms while they wait for Violet who is in the middle of the labor.

He is excitingly nervous because this is Violet's second labor. He vividly remember the day when his wife gave birth to Violace. It was one of the happiest moment of his life, where he joyfully shed waterfall of tears while lovingly thanking her for giving him the most precious gift of all.

From that moment on, he sincerely promised to be a better father for his children, where he will grant them the cherishable love, unconditional support and freedom that they deserve. After all, He and his wife went into trouble just to change the Bougainvillea family. It was a success as they were able to create a friendly, caring, and lovable family.

"Just wait for a minute while we wait for everyone to come, okay? I already contacted them a while ago to bring us food to eat." He gently told her while caressing her fluffy golden hair. She adorably smiled at him and said,

"Okaaay. I love you, daddy." He gladly muttered his I love you's to his daughter while he hugged her. 'Such a sweet child.' He thought.

Their adorable moment was cut short when someone called out to them.

"Gilbert! Little Violace! Uncle brought you your favorite food!" It was Hodgins who brought A LOT of food and behind him are the Evergarden couple and his grown up siblings.

Violace's face brightened at the sight of them. I put her down and when they stopped in front of us, she elegantly greeted them with a charming smile, making everyone surprised and it seems like they too, were struck by her charm. After all, she looks a lot like Violet.

Violace Bougainvillea, the first born of the main household. Her features is like of a godly beauty from the mythology world and skin as as white and delicate as a porcelain doll. Violace got her dazzling golden hair from her mother while she got the piercingly beautiful emerald eyes from Gilbert. Her speech and intelligence is remarkably advanced. Her posture and manners as a prominent lady is extremely commendable as her grace is not of a child. After all, she is the daughter of Violet and Gilbert. It is possible to have a gifted child.

Julia kneeled in front of her and said, "Oh my...my niece grew up as a charmingly beautiful lady. Are you excited to meet your new sibling?"

"Yes. I am truly happy. I can't wait to hold my baby sibling." She cheerfully giggled in delight. They can't help but smile for her emotions are beautifully rich. As they still saw a child who possess pure innocence and childishness within its eyes.

Violace grew up being supported by her parents, the Bougainvillea's, the Evergarden's, and the CH Postal Company. They are glad that she grew up without having to suffer as an 'asset'.

Violace is indeed the hope and pride of the 'new' Bougainvillea family.

The door suddenly opened and it revealed a doctor. Gilbert frantically asked if they're both okay. The Doctor laughed at his amusing reaction and said,

"Congratulations, Mr. Bougainvillea. Your wife gave birth to a healthy twins." The sudden announcement brought shock to all of them. Violace's eyes sparkled and joyfully cheered, "Yaaay! I have twin siblings hihihi!" The pure excitement is evident to the child.

"Twins, you say?" Gilbert hoarsely whispered as he was about to cry.

"That's right. Twins. The first one is a boy while the second one is a girl. Congratulations once again. You may all go inside."

He cried once again, not caring for the people who will see him cry. He is currently happy right now, for the love that he have for wife blossomed once again. A tiny hand gripped his pants, he kneeled and smilingly stared at the same emerald orbs that he have. He was about to say something when Violace suddenly brushed away his tear and hugged his neck.

Everyone watched the heartwarming scene of father and child. One could say that Gilbert is truly a lucky man because in the end, he finally found his happiness.

"Daddy, If mommy saw you cry, she will definitely get sad. I will also get sad because I don't want you to feel sad. For now, let's meet the new members of our family."

Gilbert hugged her once again for he is happy to have a daughter like her. They went inside the room first. Everyone who just arrived told him, they'll go inside after a minute or so just to give them a little privacy.

When they went inside, the two saw Violet affectionately carrying the two beautiful new born babies. Violace ran into her mother and kissed her cheek. Gilbert went to his wife and kissed her forehead while silently thanking her once again.

"How have you been, mommy? Are you alright? Do you want anything from Violace?" She continuously asked her mother. Violet gleefully giggled at her first born and said.

"Don't worry, my dear child. Do you want to hold him or her?"

"Absolutely!" Violace delightfully carried her baby sister first before her baby brother. The two babies giggled.

"They got father's navy black hair while they're eyes is the same deep aquamarine eyes as you, mother." She voiced out in amazement while caressing their soft hands. She let out an adorable gasp when both of them held their sister's finger. The couple fondly laughed at the scene. Violet and Gilbert stared at each other's eyes and silently conveyed their love and promise.

'I will love you all until the end of time.'

[emybain]

Love Conquers Hate

I have come to the conclusion that I can only write fluff. also, yes ive been wanting to write the parade from nova’s pov since reading the epilogue (despite how much I love magpie). no shame. 

SUPERNOVA SPOILERS 

SUPERNOVA SPOILERS

SUPERNOVA SPOILERS

    The sunlight warmed Nova’s face as she laid back on the star float, legs hovering over the edge. She had been sitting, waiting for Adrian as he left to find them something to eat or drink. Oscar had accompanied him, and they had been gone for twenty minutes so far. As each minute grew longer, her patience grew shorter, so Nova resulted to a few minutes of sunbathing. Beside her, Ruby was chatting with Danna and Narcissa, who were going to be on the float as well. Ahead of them, probably two or three floats, Nova could hear a marching band warming up as well as the whooshing and whipping sounds of the color guard's flags. 

    They had been called to the parade set up three hours ago so that everyone could be accounted for and put in order. Before, Nova had been curious as to why they needed three hours to set up for an hour and a half parade, but after witnessing the amount of stress the organizers and performers went through beforehand, she now had a deeper respect for parades. 

    Now they were waiting for the parade to begin, awkwardly standing around on a random residential street. Someone had mentioned a while ago that they still had thirty minutes, and that was when Adrian and Oscar left for food. 

    An elbow nudged Nova’s side gently. She opened one eye, raising her eyebrow at Ruby, who pulled her up. “There’s someone here to see you,” she said, grinning from ear to ear. She gestured in front of them. 

    Nova ran a hand through her hair, blinking at the young mom and the little girl behind her legs who was no more than five or six. She shared a knowing look with Ruby before hopping down from the float and kneeling to peek around the mom’s legs at the girl. 

    “Hey there.” Nova smiled sweetly. “What’s your name?” 

    “Go on, Camden.” Her mother stepped to the side and pushed her daughter forward encouragingly when she didn’t immediately answer. “It’s okay.”

    Camden peeked up at Nova, and for that brief moment, Nova saw the awe in her eyes. Then she tore her gaze away, cheeks red. “My name’s Camden,” she said in a tiny voice. “I...I was wondering...can I have your autograph?”

    Nova opened her mouth, gasping dramatically. She clasped her hands together. “Of course!” She rummaged for a marker in her pockets, knowing she put one in there specifically for today. Already, multiple people, not just children, had come up to her and her friends asking for autographs. “Where do you want it?”

    Camden’s shy exterior began to drop just a little as she handed over a superhero cape. Nova asked her what her superpower was as she wrote out a short message. She learned that Camden had perfect balance, which pushed her into doing gymnastics. 

    Nova handed back the cape, freshly signed. Camden grinned down at it with sparkling eyes. Then she looked back up at Nova. 

    “Miss Artino,” she began, “how do you be brave? See, I want to be just like you when I grow up, but I’m always afraid.”

    Nova tilted her head to the side, not all that surprised at the child’s honest question, as most children were honest, but surprised at the subject. She thought about it for a moment. Behind her, the three other girls stopped talking, and she could feel their gazes on the back of her head. “Well, Camden, bravery and fear go hand in hand. It’s impossible to be brave if you aren’t at least a little scared.”

    Camden’s eyes widened, and she leaned forward. “Really? Does that mean you get scared?”

    Nova nodded solemnly. “All the time, but I’m still brave.” She paused. “Some of the bravest people in the world are scared of many things, did you know that?”

    She shook her head quickly, and Nova pressed on. “It’s true. Because those people are afraid to lose what they love, so they choose to be brave to protect those things. Do you understand that?” 

    Camden swayed from side to side, contemplating, before smiling a toothy grin and nodding. “Thank you, Miss Artino. I think I get it now.” 

    Nova matched her smile and stretched her arms out, offering a hug that the child accepted. The mother thanked Nova, and then they were gone, back to the small neighborhood crowd watching the parade from their homes. 

    Meeting kids like Camden was nothing new for Nova these days; they always stopped her on the streets asking for photos or autographs or screaming how much they loved her. At first, Nova was weirded out and not sure how to even approach children. While it still made her uncomfortable to think that people idolized her for the very same reasons Nova used to despise the Renegades, she had become a pro at talking to children, and found a tiny bit of joy in brightening their day. 

    “Water?” Nova turned to find a water bottle pushed in her face, the owner of the voice belonging to her boyfriend. She smiled up at him and accepted the water. Oscar showed up beside him and they passed out water to everyone. 

    “You were gone that long and water was all you could find?” She hopped back up on the black parade float, designed to be like a night sky with a thousand shining stars. It was Adrian’s idea, as well as his creation. 

    “Tell me about it,” Oscar groaned. Ruby scooched over and he sat beside her, arm snaking around her waist. The movement was almost natural, and Nova couldn’t help but think back to a year ago when Oscar could barely hold it together if Ruby so much as brushed hands with him. “Not a food truck in sight. They must all be in the big ticket areas.”

    “We’ll get nachos after the parade,” Ruby assured him, patting his thigh. “Any word on how much longer until we start? Mom said Jade and Sterling are growing restless.”

    “At least they have food,” Oscar grumbled. 

    Adrian took a seat beside Nova, and they laced their fingers together immediately. “It’ll probably be another five or so minutes.”

    Narcissa rested her head on Danna’s shoulder, who pressed a kiss to her hair. “I should have brought a book. It’s been three hours!” She sighed dramatically. “This parade is great and all, don’t get me wrong, but it should not be this long.” 

    Nova agreed, although she kept her mouth shut. It was ironic, really, when she thought of where she was a year ago. Who she was a year ago. She had been so filled with hatred and loneliness, craving a revenge that was aimed at the wrong people. So much time and energy and so many resources poured into one goal that ate away at Nova’s humanity for ten years, preventing her from seeing the truth. And now, she recognized that revenge was an illness; it weakens someone and plagues them of any real happiness, convincing them that it is the cure when in fact it is the parasite. Now, she knew that, and was grateful that she was rescued from it’s cage before it was too late. Now, she was here, with the people she loved doing the last thing on the planet she would have ever thought she would do. A year ago, she was at the parade, yes, but with a completely different motive. 

    One of the parade organizers, a middle aged man whose name Nova didn’t bother to remember, came by and told them to get to their positions. Nova took a quick sip of her water and accepted the hand that Adrian offered. Together, they got on the topmost point of the large star in the center of the float. Ruby and Oscar went to a point to their right, and Danna and Narcissa to their left. After a moment, the float lurched forward and began its slow trek down the street. The neighborhood watchers began clapping and cheering, the children jumping up and down and waving at the group of six people on the star. 

    Nova waved back, putting on what she referred to as her “camera smile”, the one she reserved for the media and for events like this. 

    The parade route was supposed to take them along the most known streets of Gatlon and end at Headquarters, something that would take between an hour and an hour and a half to complete. Like every year, it would be televised around the world, and similar celebrations would take place. However, what made this year different was that everyone was now a prodigy. Because of this, it seemed almost silly to solely celebrate the Renegades and their success. No, the Renegades had learned from examples like Nova and the Anarchists and the Rejects that one’s abilities didn’t determine how heroic they were. So, on the Day of Triumph, the Renegades parade was now meant to celebrate all prodigies of all shapes and sizes and abilities. Nova felt as though it was a small victory in the direction of a future she desired, a future where everyone could be equal. It brought tears to her eyes when she was told that the villain floats were being tossed, as well as the Council’s float. In their places would be floats honoring the gifts of prodigies and honoring the warriors lost in the fight for freedom and equality. It moved her to see a float for Honey, despite what the woman had done to Nova prior to her death. It made her grin to see a float for Callum Treadwell, a prodigy who quite possibly had the greatest gift of all, yet was never on a task force like other Renegades. Nova could only fathom what he would think if he were here today. 

    “Are you okay?”

    Nova glanced beside her at Adrian, who was still smiling and waving at the cheering crowds. But she noticed the concern in his eyes. 

    “Yeah.” She wiped at her eyes, which had gotten a little misty, and reached for his hand. He clutched her tightly, a promise. “Just a little overwhelmed is all.” 

    The float turned a corner, and the roaring of the crowd somehow went up two dynamics. They were on what many of the organizers referred to as “TV Street”, where most of the excitement took place for the celebration, as well as where every news station would be covering the parade. It was the street with the best seats for the parade, and the most media. It was also the street where…

    Nova nudged Adrian lightly, making him look down at her curiously. “This is where we met.” She nodded to a familiar spot in front of a vendor selling merchandise. “Right there.” 

    Adrian’s smile grew genuine, and he pulled her closer. “I love you, Nova Artino.”

    “And I you, Adrian Everhart. Every day, I will love you.” Sweet rot, she was letting Danna and Ruby suck her into their shared love of rom-coms and romance movies. She didn’t much care, though. Her heart was full, the fullest it had ever been. 

    When she tilted her head up to kiss Adrian, the crowd went wild. Nova tuned them out, her attention fully on the boy standing beside her. She savored this moment, the way he tasted of the donuts Oscar brought earlier that morning, the feeling of a hand in her hair and another clutching her hip. Too soon did he pull back, but Nova knew from the secretive glint in his eyes that there would be many, many more kisses later in the day when they were alone and away from the eyes of the media. She couldn’t wait. 

    But for now, she let herself be wrapped up in his arms as they both waved to the many cameras pointed at them and smiled at the crowd. A sign held by a kid caught Nova’s eye; when the child saw Nova watching him, he grinned and raised the sign higher, shouting something Nova couldn’t hear. But the sign was enough explanation: Love Conquers Hate.

    She couldn’t agree more. 

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Chapter 1: Dance of the Dragon Kings

I would do anything for ballet.

I accepted the constant practicing and rehearsals. I volunteered to give up ordinary childhood play. Because I loved it, it was all-important. It was what bound my secret friend and I together all my life.

I hurried from the dance hall, across a snow strewn street and into the dingy front seat of an old car. The air fogged in front of my face. I blew into my hands and looked into the driver’s brown eyes that sparkled from under the brim of his baseball cap. “When are you going to fix the heat in the car, Robbie?” I asked.

He raised his eyebrows. “When you can work and afford your own toe shoes!”

I flinched, making a little heart with my hands in apology.

He laughed, amused by my youthful cheek. “You are somethin’ else.” He yanked the car into drive, pulling away. “ How was that last rehearsal?”

Still winded, I took a deep breath. “Hard.” Robbie pointed to me to remind me to buckle up. “But I think I’ve got it.”

“I know you do. I see how hard you work! Dinner’s in the fridge. Make sure you get to bed nice and early. No cellphone time.”

I peered out the window. People were trudging through the snow, carrying bags of gifts for their loved ones. It was December 22nd -- only three days to Christmas. Many were on vacation or enjoying a relaxing time off work. I prepared for the performance of the Dance of the Dragon Kings. Everyone saw this ballet even if they would never attend any other. It was a holiday tradition. For the first time, I would share this dance with my foster family after years of hard work and expense. They would watch from the nosebleed section. However, their friend played the part of the Dark King, one of the most coveted roles. This made any seat the best one in the house.

It would be the best gift I could give.

I curled my toes in my shoes, attempting to squeeze the aching out of them. They were sore and craving a massage, but I was giddy with excitement at the prospects that lay before me. Tonight would be for rest before the big day of my most important performance. So many talent scouts would be there. Their eyes would be on me.

As much as I adored Robbie and Mom for their efforts, I wanted to stand on my own two feet. Get my own apartment. Buy my own toe shoes. This was my ticket to freedom. I had to make it happen. I would make it happen.

We stomped the snow from our boots before entering the front door of our two story Chicago townhome.  A woman was in the sitting room watching television.. When she heard us come in, she got up and headed straight for me. She cupped her calloused hands around my face and gave me a kiss on my head. She still smelled like onions and bacon grease from the kitchen. “Shower up and I’ll warm up some of the chicken ‘n’ dumplin’s for ya.”

“Mom, the teacher would kill me if she knew I was eating that.”

She pinched my cheeks, her brown eyes lively with enthusiasm. “Who says she has to know?”

I didn’t eat the chicken and dumplings. It would make Mom sad, but it would be worse if I failed the weigh-in. Then I would have to give up my spot to the understudies that were nipping at my heels and eating little else. Ballet was my ticket to a dream of spending my life spinning in toe shoes with arms outstretched. Performing on stage was all I ever wanted. I was so close. I couldn’t afford to lose it all.

I rested my feet in a bath of warm water. Elbows propped on my knees, I started to relax when I felt the stir of a familiar presence join me: my translucent look-alike staring at me from across the room. 

Even though girls at the dance academy came and went, she had always been my friend. When potential adoptive parents came around, they saw me dance. They would be more than happy to offer to adopt me. Later, they returned me home. However, all of them failed to realize the commitment required, the expense, the effort for a child like me, with more energy than sense. They always had a reason to return me to foster. Eventually, I was more of an adult than a child. I crossed the threshold of someone who grew up in foster care.

This wraith, like Robbie and Mom, stuck with me.

My friend was still wearing the dance costume I would wear on stage. I was to play a majestic dragon. My tutu was frilly, over the top in black and red and gold. A collar fanned out the back of my head like a pair of massive wings. The embroidery and sequins evoked the dragon’s scales and fire.

The ruffled skirt stuck straight out from her waist, revealing the entire length of her legs. My ghostly friend looked like a glowing mass of tissue paper, the color whitewashed away. I knew she haunted the triangular necklace Mom gave me for my tenth birthday. When I was a baby, she said, it was wrapped in my blanket, a keepsake from my real mother.

For six years, this phantom and I grew up together. I always wondered how long she would hang around. I never told anyone about her, not that anyone would believe me anyway. Having a secret friendship was something I rather enjoyed. It was the only social contact I had that ballet had not devoured.

Normally, my wispy friend would hover at a distance, but this time she approached and sat down beside me. I gaped at her in surprise. She raised her hand as if to touch my face. Her expression was distant, wistful, almost… loving? It wasn’t like her to be so sentimental. She was usually tough and confident, but before I could ask what was wrong again, she disappeared.

There was a double tap on the door. It was Robbie, still in his work boots and overalls. He carried a platter of vegetables with hummus. He replaced Mom’s cuisine with that. “You’re going to go places, baby doll.” He ran his hands around my coiled hair. “I’m proud of you.”

He gave me a little kiss on the head and stood up and left the room to give me some quiet time to eat and fall asleep.

It was still dark when I awoke the next morning. There would be no more rehearsals, but a performance. My quivering stomach made me ill as I headed into the weigh-in that day, two hours before show time. I passed and squeezed into this elaborate costume fitted for a tiny frame. I could only stretch and warm up. This was it.

The lights dimmed over the audience. The curtains rose on the opulent stage of the ornate opera hall. I was no longer an unruly orphan teenager. I was the Dark King, the great dragon that ruled the world. Together with the Light King, I dominated other dragons. Humanity, portrayed by the corps de ballet, was my slave. The choreography dramatized that ancient legend and made my rule on stage beautiful.

Once upon a time, humans and dragons lived together, ruled under the The Dark King. The Dark King decided to make another dragon, equal to himself as a partner: the Light King. Together, they dominated the earth with unquestionable authority.

My desire was to portray that godlike power. To terrify, not just the characters on stage, but the people out in the audience. In contrast to the Light King’s graceful and delicate movements, I was brutish. I bared my imaginary fangs, curled my fingertips into claws, arched my back forward. I stalked the stage like a fear inspiring monstrosity.

The rule of this pair was so united that there were no male or female assigned roles in this choreography. Anyone could be a Dark King. Anyone could be a Light King. I loved the role, pretending to be the fierce leader of everything I laid eyes on.

Over time, the Light King would want the power of the Dark King. He started a revolution, tempting a third of all dragons to her side.

My movements were quick and strong. When the Dark King was angry, I performed daring leaps across the stage, regal in my unstoppable power. I pantomimed the legend of the Dark King pinning the Light King to a pillar. The stage props and lighting portrayed my sinking him to the depths of an icy sea. I plunged him through the seabed into a fiery volcano beneath. His body turned into ash. I consumed it. It was the last of him. I had won.

Intermission.

Backstage, it was a whirlwind of activity, makeup and nerves, insecurity and touch ups. We made costume adjustments and changed shoes and wiped away sweat -- and there was not enough time. Never enough time.

There in the dressing room, I stared into the mirror. Over my dark-skinned face, my pale shining companion appeared superimposed on the glass. She reached out to me, carrying my necklace in the palm of her hand. It was not part of the costume. I’d packed it for good luck. I needed it now. I slipped the necklace on and left the room.

The time drew near for my return to the stage began my solo, my moment of truth. The Dance of The Victorious Dark King contained a long series of difficult fouetté turns. Backstage, my muscles shook, my energy waned. My teacher, an older man, came and talked to me. Despite my tired mind, I worked through his thick German accent as he told me I could do it.

My head was dizzy. I stepped back on stage. Applause settled into silence. The stage lights, erased the world in a blank flare. The music began. My body moved on its own through strict training and muscle memory. Time slowed.

In this moment, in my mind, it was only me and the dance.

I threw out my leg and lifted myself up on point, tucking my toe against my knee. I spun as though suspended on a string. Over and over on one leg without a break.

The pain and exhaustion clawed at my legs and hips, but I’d long since forced my body into submission to the clicking of a metronome. I wouldn’t let myself fall behind.

The world itself was spinning. An odd wind filled my ears. The dragon king’s gleeful expression felt like a mask on my face. I lower from my toes degree by degree and lift my hand to the musical sting. A perfect performance.

Applause from the audience rushed over me in a wave . I took an elegant bow, trying to keep my expression professional and serene.

I walked off the stage, I looked for my teacher. I expected approval. When I raised my eyes to him, his expression chilled my heart and halted my steps. Why was he so pale? Why didn’t he look at me? What happened? Before I could ask, someone grabbed my arm, completely enclosing it in her grip. The assistant teacher shook me. “What was that? What did you do?”

I couldn’t answer. I was too out of breath, too confused. Her face was close to mine, filling my vision with the leathery folds that narrow her snapping dark eyes.

“Never mind,” she says. “The show must go on, but this will affect your future at the dance academy.” She let me go and withdrew in a huff.

I looked at the other girls for answers. They didn’t have any, but shrank into groups to whisper and glance at me through the corners of their eyes. Her words were that the show must go on. I needed to bury my emotions and continue no matter what. To focus on the steps, the rhythm, the pacing. This wasn’t about the teacher. It was about my future. My dreams. The fouettés were perfect. I didn’t do anything wrong.

The show continued.

The Dark King was not done. He created the Four Kings: Norton, the Lord of Bronze and Fire, Leviathan, the King of the Ocean and Water, Fenrir, the King of Earth and Stone, and Feilian, the King of Wind and Storms. Each one in a natural enmity with the other so they would not unite to rebel against him.

I danced with the Four Kings. They were soloists in their own right. Dressed in costumes of red, blue, green, and gold sequins to depict each of the four elements .

The peace was not to last. The Four Kings banded together with the humans. Using a mysterious process, the humans became hybridized with dragons. For the first time, humans were able to wield their power. With the Four Kings and the Hybrids fighting against him, the Dark King was unable to hold his own.

The stage hands wheeled out the props for the final curtain.

As the Dark King, I danced in a frenzy. I was attacked on all sides, driven onto a mountain. This prop created the illusion that I, as the dragon, was as big as the mountain I stood on. Then, at my defeat, I fell on its peak, striking hard with the music. Red lights flooded the stage, depicting the legendary rain of the Dark King’s blood. The orchestra resounded with timpani and brass.

The curtain fell with the audience’s rapturous, thunderous applause and whistling and shouting. Tears pricked at my eyes and I walked out with the rest of the troupe in front of the curtain. Once we were all assembled, we looked at each other giving thumbs up. The curtain rose again. People stood up on their feet.

As I bow with an extended arm, I glanced off stage. No sign of the teacher. I continued beaming at the cheering and whistling crowd. I was not sure what happened during my solo, but no one in the audience seemed to notice. We walked off stage, excited to see our families. For me, there was another curtain call. I walked out again with the Light King and the Elemental soloists and bowed again.

Once more, I reassured myself that everything was fine. The performance was over. Despite everything, I’d done it.

I was anxious to find Robbie, my teacher, Mom. Still wearing my costume but in leg warmers and slippers, I wobbled on tired legs to the lobby. I found them, standing with someone I’d never met.

A man in a fitted custom suit was talking to them, gesturing with an unlit cigar between his fingers. He stood a head taller than Robbie, had a white grizzled beard. He held his long winter coat tossed over his shoulder.

The other foster children ran over to hug me. Robbie hurried to excuse himself and peeled away from the conversation. He hugged me so hard it hurt, planting a big kiss on my cheek. “Honey! You were beautiful!”

I’m still looking at the man who is regarding me with a knowing look in his blue eyes. My heart begins to knock against my ribs. “Robbie? What’s going on? Is that a talent scout?”

“Yes. And a very special one, because you’re special... “ Robbie knelt to look at me. “He’s from Cassell. He says he wants you to join.”

“Cassell?” I asked, my expression incredulous. Cassell College was Chicago’s most elite private school. Their esoteric entry requirements were the stuff of legends in my high school. Rumor had it that the admission exam baffled promising aspirants. It reportedly included questions about belief in aliens and mythological creatures. These questions were interspersed with questions about philosophy. There were rumors they admitted those with poor scores on exams anyway. It was as if there were other top secret requirements.

People whispered in the high school halls about how rich the place was. They said that every student there had a private pool, that they embossed diplomas in pure gold. Everyone who went there was from a rich influential family with the finest of everything.

The tall man caught up to Robbie and me. “You must be tired after such an exquisite performance. I'm sure you want to have fun with your friends. We can talk business later.” He stooped over to get on my level and hands out a small card. “Here, call me when you’re free.”

My shoulders relaxed a little at his compliment. After glancing at Robbie for his permission I approached the man and took his calling card. Hilbert Ron Anjou, President of Cassell College.

An invitation to go to College. Me. At sixteen. Before I could grasp that, he continued.

“You have a very special talent, my dear, one that only we can help grow. But the choice is always yours, little Dark King.” He rose to his full height again. He beckoned into the crowd. A few others who were with him detached themselves from their conversations. Together, they disappeared into the throng of people. A woman with long, scarlet colored hair caught my eye over her shoulder and winked.

I turned to Robbie, my heart swelling with rapturous joy. I leaped into his arms. He spun me around. I clung to his neck laughing. He put me down. Mom hugged me and gave me another big kiss on my cheek.

Over her shoulder, I caught a glimpse of my friend in the shadows, smiling at me.

Chapter 2

[amydancepants-peralta]

3 or 9 from the festive prompts pls! :)

Hi there anon!  Better late than never, right? 🥺 Here is #9 - “You’re kidding, right? I’m not going out in that snow storm!” ❄️☃️💕

more than you could ever know. (AO3)

It turns out that the day that Jake Peralta realises that he is incredibly, irrevocably and endlessly in love with Amy Santiago is just another Wednesday.  

It’s a day seemingly like all the others, in that weird space of time between Christmas and New Years where you genuinely lose track of days and schedules seem unimportant.  Work had grown beyond hectic during the holiday season, in the way it always does as the stress of forced festivities bring out the worst in some people, and between the two of them they had managed to write up more arrest reports than even Amy was interested in completing.  

Today wasn’t their first day off together - the Gods of Rostering granting both of them the full week between the two holidays off completely - but it was the first day that neither of them had been roped into any plans, and in the coming weeks they had grown increasingly protective of that fact.  It was their first holiday season together as a couple - the first year of actually being able to lean in and kiss each other whenever the urge set in (which, to nobody’s surprise, turned out be a lot), and Jake couldn’t be happier.  All of the greatest Christmases in all the world could never hold a candle to the sheer magic of waking up on Christmas morning with Amy Santiago wrapped up in his arms.  To sleepy kisses and mumbled greetings, warm skin against his own until the excitement of discovering what was underneath the tree was too great to ignore and they’d raced each other out to the living room.  

Her eyes had competed with the sparkling lights on the tree for brightness as she’d opened his gift to her, turning soft with affection when she saw the necklace and matching earrings that he’d noticed in a jewellery store window and instantly knew was made for her.  And when he’d ripped open his own gift, and discovered that Amy had managed to track down one of only fifteen available copies of a limited edition Die Hard DVD with bonus features - that had only been on the market for a day before being pulled by the studio - Jake genuinely thought his heart wasn’t ever going to stop pounding.  She was a wizard, and the smartest person he knew, and in all honesty Amy could have just stuck a bow on her head and told him she was his gift this year, and he would have accepted it all without hesitation.  

(This fact only proved to be more accurate later that very day when, after all of the family gatherings were finally done, Amy stepped into her bedroom wearing a giant red bow and very little else, using that sexy voice of hers to tell Jake that he had one last present to unwrap.) 

The following day had been for extended kin - the rest of the 99 becoming their second family so long ago it was hard to remember a time when that wasn’t the case - and today?  Today was just for them, and the only thing that Jake had planned on doing was sleeping in.  

His mind, however, appears to have different plans.  

It had still been dark the first time Jake had woken up, the pressing need in his bladder yanking him from his comfortable slumber and forcing his heavy limbs out of bed.  He’d noticed on the way back to his still new and oh so wonderful mattress that it had begun to snow outside, the temperature finally dropping to the levels that the weatherman had been threatening for days now.  Far too tired to do more than acknowledge the smattering of white that had begun outside, he had lifted the duvet without haste, sliding in slowly and smiling to himself when Amy’s arms wrapped instinctively around him again.  If anybody had dared to tell him, before they’d even known each other, just how amazing it would be to sleep in a bed with Amy next to him, Jake is 100% certain that he would have kissed her the very first day they met - awkward statements from Charles be damned.  

He’d woken again not long after sunrise, in a move completely unprecedented, and no amount of squeezing his eyes shut or attempting to distract his racing mind seemed to have effect.  Jake was Awake, whether he wanted to be or not.  

Somewhere in the night Amy has shifted, her body still curling towards his but occupying her side of the bed, and for a moment Jake takes advantage of the silence, watching as the dawn’s light fills the room and highlights just how beautiful she is.  She buries her head further into the pillow as the sun began to aim it’s rays at her face, snuffling softly into the pillow, and Jake’s unable to resist the urge to turn towards her, hooking one arm around her waist and leaving a gentle good morning kiss on Amy’s forehead.

Her lips lift into a tiny smile, shuffling ever so slightly closer towards him as her eyes refuse to pry themselves open.  

“Ames,” Jake whispers, not yet entirely sure if waking up his girlfriend early on their only schedule-free day together was actually the wisest move to make.  He tightens the grip around her waist, as if preparing for an apology, and when she doesn’t respond he squeezes her briefly.  “Babe, it’s snowing outside.”

Her answer is a muffled groan, foregoing the pillow to move herself closer to Jake, sighing with happiness when he rolls back onto the mattress and her head is resting in the curve of his neck.  Like pieces of a puzzle sliding into place her arm skims across his stomach, tucking her fingers between his waist and the mattress.  With this closer proximity Jake has the leverage to slide his own hand underneath the soft material of the old academy shirt Amy uses as a sleep shirt, and he wastes no time doing so, revelling in the still-new-but-also-kinda-something-he-feels-like-he’s-being-doing-forever sense of calm that falls over him.  It’s only been a second or two, but it feels like a decade when Amy responds, eyes still closed as she moves her chin to Jake’s chest and mumbles, “Snow cold.  Boyfriend warm.”

The calm morphs into euphoria at the sound of Amy calling him boyfriend.  Such a simple word, and certainly not the first time she’s used it, but it’s been just over six months and she’s easily the best thing that’s happened to him in the longest time.  And maybe it’s the latent energy from his Christmas Eve hostage and near-death situation that is still whirling around in his body, or maybe it’s the excitement of a full day of freedom with his girlfriend … either way, Jake is filled with a sudden desire to embrace the day - starting with the building of a perfect snowman to celebrate such a glorious year.

Turning his head to the left and burying his nose into Amy’s sleep-messy hair, Jake takes a deep breath in before dropping a kiss to her head.  “Ames.  Do you wanna build a snowman?”

Amy’s chest expands under Jake’s hand as she takes a deep breath, one eye cracking open and blinking dazedly before focusing on him.  “If you break out into Frozen song lyrics right now you are done for, Peralta.”

He laughs, Amy’s grip on him tightening as she joins him, and when the room finally falls silent Jake leans in for another kiss, this time against her soft, soft lips.  “Good morning, Ames.”

She hums, a faint almost-purring sound that reverberates against him as she continues to lay against his chest, and Jake’s heart skips a beat when she smiles at him, moving her hand from his waist to run her fingers through his own messy bed hair - partially still ruffled from doing the same the night before.  “Mmm.  Morning, babe.”  Twisting slightly to check the clock on her nightstand, Amy groans and drops her head back onto his chest.  “It’s so early, though.  You rallied so hard for the 10am alarm last night … what’s changed?”

Shrugging the shoulder that doesn’t have an Amy leaning against it, Jake glances out the window before returning his attention back to Amy.  “I can’t explain it.  I woke up earlier and noticed it was snowing, and now all I can think about it is getting out there and playing in it.”

Sighing softly, Amy leaves a sweet kiss against his shoulder.  “You know, for a native New Yorker, it is truly amazing that you still find snow magical.”

He smiles at the statement, pulling Amy ever so closer to him as he does.  She was right (as usual).  Snow certainly looked beautiful - and flooded the Instagram of the hundreds of tourists clogging the streets trying to get the perfect shot - but it disrupted so many aspects of every day life that most people he knew had grown to resent its presence each year.  Jake had loved snow ever since he was a little boy, and had refused to change his opinion on it as the years passed and he grew jaded about so many other things.  “It is magic, babe.  Come out with me, I’ll show you why!”

The arm that had long since returned to his stomach braces against him briefly as Amy lifts herself up, eyes narrowing as she takes in the view from his bedroom window before falling back onto the bed with a dull thud.  “You’re kidding right?  I’m not going out in that snow storm!”

Jake’s brow furrows, and he turns his head to check the view again - just in case the light flurry of snowflakes had indeed turned apocalyptic in the few seconds since his last look.  But the sight was just the same as before; the snow still so light in its downpour that his windowsills had only just begun to build up a catchment of white.  “Snow storm?!” he answers, looking back at Amy incredulously.  “Ames, it’s like Winter Wonderland out there!”

“Winter Wonderland is freezing” Amy replies, resurrecting her earlier kiss and continuing in a line across his shoulder, heading upwards to his neck and oh, how did he exist without kisses like this for so. long.?  “And this bed is so soft and warm.”  Bringing the kisses to a stop, Amy rests her head against Jake’s pillow, tucking her nose into the edge of Jake’s neck.  “I’m normally all for getting up early, but I’ve got everything I need right here.”

It hasn’t been said out loud, but Jake knows that his dice with death three nights ago had affected Amy more than she could say.  He felt it, in the strength of her kisses and the way she had latched herself to him on the couch that same night, cancelling all Noche Buena plans to stay at home with Jake.  All of it had been completely welcome; because that whole evening, while everything was going down, even as he was telling himself that it was going to be fine, there was still one person’s voice he was wishing to hear one last time.  Her face had flashed through his mind as that thug with the cool scar had pointed a gun at him, and when she’d run towards him outside the store, smashing her lips against his, Jake’s heart had just about soared right out of his chest.  In just six short months, Amy had elevated herself to the Most Important Person in Jake’s life, and the thought of losing her had terrified him.

So he got it - her need for more moments of peace where it was just them, and ordinarily he would be all for it, if not the one demanding it.  But his body was filled with restless energy as he watched the snow continue to fall outside his apartment, and after a few minutes of his fingertips thrumming against Amy’s back she sighs, voice muffled by his neck as she speaks.  “Go make your damn snowman, Peralta.”

He hesitates, tampering the urge to leap out of bed as he buries his nose in his girlfriend’s hair again.  “I don’t have to, babe.”

“Jake.”  Amy’s hands glide over his skin as she lifts herself up completely, anchoring her elbow into the mattress and using her free hand to hold the duvet against her bare chest.  “You’re obviously bubbling with energy right now.  Go out there and do what you gotta do.”  Leaning in, she punctuates her words with a gentle kiss.  “Just come back to me when you’re done.  This bed is too big without you.”

Jake smiles, shuffling into a sitting up position and pulling Amy back in for another kiss before lifting up his side of the blanket.  “You’re the best, Ames.”  Smiling in response, Amy pulls the extra blanket Jake has abandoned towards her, creating a blanket cocoon of her own as he moves about the room.  “Don’t think I can’t see you reap the benefits of a bed to yourself, Santiago.”

“It’s still too big without you, but right now it is so. warm.” is her indistinct reply, and Jake lets out another soft chuckle before throwing on several layers of clothing, preparing for the onslaught of cold air waiting for him outside. 

*

*

Jake’s wearing his favourite black gloves; the ones his mother had knitted for him five years ago and cannot bring himself to replace, as he digs his hands into the layers of snow that have landed in the park a block from his apartment.  He studies the powder, rolling it into a snowball and passing it from hand to hand before dropping it back onto the ground, rotating until it’s grown to a decent size and lifting it back up.  Flattening the top of the bases already planted, he puts the final piece of the snowman together, stepping back briefly to inspect his structure before beginning the hunt for decorations.

His movements were quick - partly because it actually was incredibly cold out here in the snow, and partly because he was eager to return to Amy.  Borrowing a few stones from a hedging garden, Jake creates a face for the figure before searching for a branch to turn into arms.  

Not even he could fully explain the urge he had felt this morning - Jake hadn’t built a snowman in years.  It had been such an easy way to make friends when he was younger - when you’re the only kid on the block celebrating Hanukkah it can be hard to find things to bond over - and up until he was seven it had been his favourite activity.  And then his Dad had left, taking all of his happy memories of Snow Peraltas being built in their front yard, and the countless balls of snow he instinctively built up each following Christmas no longer brought Jake joy.  Instead, they reminded him of all of his father’s lies - the same few modifications of a recurring theme, heard every damn holiday and birthday.  (Next year will be different/Work has come up/My cars in the shop/You understand, don’t you buddy?)  

Soft and seemingly edgeless, always hitting him like a slap in the face.  Until finally, after his tenth birthday, he simply stopped making them.

Stooping slightly to pick up a particularly long branch, Jake lifts his opposite knee and cracks the wood for a pair of arms, sticking them into the sides and stepping back to survey his art.  Snowman Jake is lopsided, and a little wobbly, but he loves it all the same.  Then his eyes cast to the blank space beside him, and he begins to imagine another snowman next to his - this one with long dark hair and eyes that were so kind they managed to get him to spill all his secrets. 

“You make a cute snowman.” Comes a voice from behind him, and it’s a voice he would know anywhere.  He’s already smiling before he even turns around, and it only grows wider when he clocks Amy standing amongst the snow; wrapped up in a jacket, scarf, gloves and beanie with a thermos in one hand and two cups in her other.  It’s hard to see her smile, with various layers of material covering a decent portion of her face, but Jake can tell by the curve of her cheeks, and the softer edges of her eyes.  

“Ames?”

She walks towards him, negotiating the snow with her heavy boots, and hands him the cups when she gets closer.  Her voice is muffled, fighting against the layers of material as she speaks.  “Hey, babe.”

He watches her with curious eyes as she unscrews the lid to the thermos, pouring the liquid into the cups he holds and letting out a soft sigh of happiness as the scent of hot chocolate wafts up towards him.  Waiting until she’s tucked the thermos under one arm and is holding a cup in her gloved hand, he voices his confusion.  “It’s freezing out here.”

She nods, glancing around as she takes a sip of hot chocolate, and he watches as the steam from the cup dances around her face.  “I’ve noticed that, yeah.”

Jake takes his own sip, recognising the taste from the cafe two blocks in the opposite direction that the two of them liked to frequent when they had the chance.  “You hate the cold.” 

Shuffling closer, Amy smiles softly, running the tip of her nose against his before planting a kiss against his mouth, and it’s warm, so very warm.  “I like you more than I hate the cold.”  

Oh, he likes her.  So.  Much.  

She’s still smiling when they part, and he can taste remnants of hot chocolate on her lips, the air between them already feeling warmer now that Amy was here.  Looking at the snowman behind him, she nods approvingly.  “Nice work, babe.  I would have gotten here sooner, but I really wanted hot chocolate and the cafe was so busy, and - anyway.  Cool snowman.”

Turning to look in the same direction as Amy, Jake wraps his free arm around her, puling her in closer to share his warmth.  “I totally thought you were going to stay in bed until I got back?”

Twisting until her eyes meet his, Amy winks.  “Turns out the bed was warm, but my day was way too empty without you.”  Jake takes the now empty cup from her hands, stacking it on top of his own before pulling her in for another flavoured kiss.  She continues when they part, pointing at the structure.  “You were pretty eager to build a snowman, huh?”

Jake’s smile dips slightly, and he steps away slightly, resting one hand along the back of his neck.  “Yeah, I don’t really know where that came from.  I haven’t built a snowman in years.”

“You haven’t?”

He pauses, unable to take his eyes away from the snowman.  “Not since I was seven.”  

A silence stretches between them.  Amy was more well-versed in The Book of Jake than anybody had ever been given permission to be, and he knew that she understood the timeline of events he was referring to.  He doesn’t want this to be something dramatic - hadn’t ever anticipated for this to happen on what was supposed to be just another Wednesday - but his stupid heart had forced him out of bed and into this field of snow and now he was standing next to the greatest woman he’s ever known, staring at a snowman and turning it into something greater.  He’s not one to share his feelings, to let down the walls and stop deflecting things with a well-timed joke.  But nothing seemed all that funny right now.

And then she speaks, and her voice is so resolute.  “Well then.  We need to make a snowwoman, don’t we?”  Jake turns to her, face screwed up in puzzlement, and Amy continues.  “If you get a snowman, I get one too.  And Snow Amy is going to stand by your side, because that’s where I’m always going to be.”

A tiny smile begins to sneak its way onto his face.  “By my side?” he repeats.

She raises her eyebrows slightly, shrugging before kicking softly at the snow at her feet.  “Yeah.  Even if … I don’t want to say it out loud, but even if things were to change between us, I’m always going to be there for you, Jake.”

And he loves her.  He really does, right down the very edges of his soul, and it’s a love that snuck up on him completely - and totally without any of the dramatic music that every single movie had led him to believe would accompany moments like this. He loves her for knowing that, just for today, a snowman isn’t just a snowman. He loves her for refusing to let his past paint his future. He loves her, more than he’s ever loved anyone, and he’s fairly certain that he has for a little over six months.

But grand statements were to be said at the right time - not to be blurted out - and he isn’t entirely sure that he could speak properly right now anyway with his heart lodged somewhere near the top of his throat.  And so Jake nods, reaching out for Amy’s hand and squeezing, leading her over to the middle of the park where he’d found most of the snow for optimum snowwoman building.  He’s not ready to say those three little words out loud just yet, but he’s hoping that for now he can show her how he feels in other ways (including, but not limited to, Sexy Timez).

Years from now there will be a tradition set in place, the building of the Santiago-Peralta Snowman Family an important family event that grows in numbers over time but never falls behind in their rigidly organised schedule.  

But for now, there are two snow-people in the middle of the park one block from Jake’s apartment, holding hands and standing strong as they face the elements together.  The world can pass them by, or try its luck at separating them, but love will always, always prevail. 

[captain-emmajones]

I dreamt last night of a sign that read "the end of love"

This came to my mind this morning while listening to Florence + The Machine "The End of Love", and I had to write it. Hope you guys will like this, and I promise I'll get back to my prompts <3

AU Canon Divergence from 3x11: There is an anomaly in Regina’s curse. Somehow, both Emma and Killian find themselves strangers in New York City. She is still a bail bond person, and he teaches Literature in middle school. As things go, they meet one summer evening, at a bar. The warm, summer air is full of promises as their story unfolds. But Killian cannot shake the bad feeling that lingers in his chest.

2,500 words - Angst/Fluff - ao3

“When one is alone and lonely, the body gladly lingers in the wind or the rain, or splashes into the cold river, or pushes through the ice-crusted snow.

Anything that touches.” – Mary Oliver.

He remembered drifting away, on a boat. He remembered how heavy his eyelids had felt, how much sleep was threatening to swallow him once and for all.

And how peaceful, it had felt, to drift away in between Lethe’s gentle waves, watching the moon and the stars shine in this dark, summer night.

The water almost completely drowned him, but he wasn’t afraid. He was surrendering completely to the sea.

He hadn’t been held in such gentle and loving arms in centuries.

.

He woke up in his bed, with a weird pang that lingered with him the entire day. He brushed it aside, in the back of his head, and comfortably stretched.

For the first time in ages, he woke up eager to start his day. He had no idea why, but it was a very nice tingling sensation spreading in his chest. He smiled. It was a good life.

.

He spent his day in one of New York’s middle school. He taught Literature there.

(Liam would have made fun of him, he thought. For the first time in years, thinking of his brother did not steal his breath away. It remained a gentle, quiet pain in his heart, and there was relief in that.)

“Now, who would like to give me their thoughts on Sterne’s Sentimental Journey?”

A general groan answered him, and he had a very soft eye over his exhausted student. The most exhausted ones had buried their young heads between their arms, while others held on to their very last straw of awareness, their chin resting in their hand.

“Come on, mates. I know I am your last hour of the day, but give me a little something…”

One hand finally answered his plea, and he thanked his student with a smile.

“Yes, Henry?”

.

That Friday night, Killian offered himself a glass on rum at the bar down the street to celebrate the end of the week.

“The usual, thank you,” he smiled at the dark-haired waitress. He was a regular.

She stared at him a little longer than she would have on any other customer, but he did not act as if he noticed her attention.

He had no desire to date anyone. Hadn’t had in years, after his wife’s death – Milah, a gentle soul taken away by cancer.

After all these years, he had succeeded in sheltering peace in his heart and was very unwilling to bring someone new into his life.

At least, that’s what he thought. But that night, Fate was quite determined to prove him otherwise.

As he was drinking alone, scanning his surroundings – the Compass wasn’t a very fashionable place to be but it was welcoming – he noticed her.

The blonde haired woman standing next to him at the bar.

For some unknown, irrational reason, he felt drawn to her and did not manage to look away.

She was wearing a pair of black pants and a lovely, red off-the-shoulder top. He could tell she was dressed up to meet someone. But if he could make any assumption based on the way she lowered her face towards a glass of rum, that someone was late.

A sparkle lit in his heart. He had to try and see.

He cleared his throat, touched his ear in an embarrassed gesture. He hadn’t done this in years.

Oh come on, Killian. You’ve got one bloody chance.

He stood up, but she made no movement to show she had noticed his unrest.

Gathering his courage, he stepped closer to her, but not too close as to not invade her personal space, and greeted her: “Hello love, are you expecting someone?”

Her green eyes flashed in the dim light of the bar. She considered him for a few seconds before answering. He noticed how truly beautiful she was. He could tell she was analyzing him, was trying to decide whether he was a threat or not.

And finally, a smile birthed on her red lips. “I was, actually,” she began, and he was scratching his hair again, heart pounding. “His loss,” she finally muttered, and he completely failed to hide the smile that tickled his lips.

“Bad form,” he whispered, and pointed at the empty seat next to her, “would you mind if I sat there?”

She removed her purse from the seat. “Not one bit. Couldn’t let a man drink alone, could I?”

.

Grabbing their drinks, they both decided to fully enjoy this summer night and go sit outside – beneath the lit up trees of the terrace.

“Ah, I do wish New York did not snuff out the stars,” he mumbled, head lifted towards the sky.

For as long as he could remember, there had been a peculiar longing in him, in his chest, a longing for wilder landscapes and the salt of the sea on his lips, and,…Emma apparently.

“Dreamer much, are you?” she grinned at him behind her glass, and he found her especially endearing with this blush over her cheeks.

“Aye. Always fancied more books than real life, I’m afraid.”

And then she was nodding at him as if she understood, and it profoundly moved him. An old devotion, it seemed, was taking him over.

“What about you, Emma?” Saying her name had a special taste in his mouth, but he loved it. “What do you dream about?”

It was a fairly personal conversation for a first date beneath New York’s starless sky, but she didn’t seem to mind it, just yet.

“Not much, to be fair,” she answered, her long fingers wrapping around her glass, as if to protect herself, “I’m pretty content with my life, right now,” she confessed, diving into his eyes again.

She stole his breath away. He instinctively bent towards her. “But surely you have dreams, don't you Emma?”

She did not come closer to him and remained sitting up straight. She whispered: “Why do you care?”

Perhaps it would have hurt, in another life, had he been sober. But already a bit tipsy, he did not take it personally.

He simply smiled. “Everyone dreams.”

I dreamt of you.

She chuckled, brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I’m not a dreamer.”

He could tell, because of the broken sparkle that shone in her gaze, this very same sparkle that lead him to think he knew her from before.

.

There were many drinks. Perhaps one too many.

She gave away subtle details about her life: her profession, her son, the fact that she had just moved to New York, just like him.

In spite of how little she told him, he swore he could read her like an open book.

Summer seemed to fill his heart with a new kind of spontaneity, freedom, and he felt like a very young man, once again. The air was filled with smells of smoke, alcohol, perfumes, and this very special summer breeze.

They had gotten closer in the booth, outside. Their thighs and shoulders were brushing, and she was looking at him behind her heavy eyelashes and he wanted to kiss her.

He was waiting for her to kiss him. He knew she wanted him just as badly in the way she licked her lips and glanced at his own mouth when he was talking.

Only later would he learn that she couldn’t have cared less about literature and the modernist movement he was rambling about that night, but she had let him speak because he was very charming.

“Now, imagine our historical background, Emma. Think World War I, it’s a shock to so many people, and of course people write about it. They write about this sense of loss, and cruelty, and what makes us human if not love, but we are so fragmented…”

And he went on, and on. And she was smiling, one hand beneath her chin.

“Killian?” One word finally cut him, and he inhaled – a little out of breath from all of his talking.

“Emma?” he answered back, heart jumping in his chest.

A very soft hand found his jaw and drew him nearer to her. Her open mouth met his lips in a tiny whisper of contentment, and it was a very soft kiss. Her lips were barely brushing his, both her hands lost in his hair. He exhaled into her mouth, found her blonde curls, and kissed her just a little bit harder, pressing her into the booth.

Once again, a feeling lingered in him. They had done this before. But he couldn’t remember when.

.

They casually saw each other for two months, and they were both pretty happy with that. (She was very happy about it. Him, a lot less.)

Until one evening, as they were watching a movie at his place, he finally asked her. She wasn’t looking at him, completely captivated by Amy Addams analyzing Alien’s language on their screen.

In spite of the quality of the movie Arrival, he couldn’t stop staring at her. (She still felt very precious between his arms, and an explicable fear reigned in his heart. He was scared to lose her, as if he had already lost her before.)

“Emma?”

She had a grunt, still not staring at him. “Yes, Killian?”

“A word?”

She must have heard the concern in his voice because she pressed pause and turned towards him immediately. She gave him a smile.

“Do talk.”

He held his breath. He knew this was the moment of truth. He couldn’t keep up this casualness, but what if it was all she wanted?

“It’s just, I’ve been thinking…” She was already raising her eyebrow, but he could tell she was trying to remain open. “And if you’d be willing, I would like us to become exclusive…”

He hoped he had phrased it correctly. He really hoped he did.

She tilted her head to the side. Took a few seconds to answer. “Actually, I would like that, too.”

It took him some time to fully understand her sentence, sirens ringing in his ears, but then she was smiling at him and it couldn’t be so bad?

Before he knew it, they were kissing, and he never wanted it to end.

Had it always been this simple?

.

Figuring out that when she was mentioning her son, Henry, she really meant his Henry, did make him stop a bit and think about what they were doing.  

“Don’t you think it’ll be awkward for the boy?” he asked her.

They were sitting on her couch – Henry was sleeping over at a friend’s. Her knees were pressed to her chest, and she was barefoot against the soft tissue. She chuckled.

“Don’t worry about that, Henry is a big boy. He’ll be able to understand.”

He couldn’t explain this sudden lump in his throat, this feeling that things were a bit too easy and it didn’t feel real, and – then she was on top of him, and she looked so beautiful, and fragile, with her golden hair, and he wanted to touch her but he was terrified she was going to vanish.

Even her kisses started to feel distant. It froze his heart.

He still let her.

.

Later, much later, when they were both sitting on the patio of her building, feet tangling in the void, and September was swallowing the last summer nights, he knew it to be the end.

He gazed at her, drank her in. She wasn’t looking at him, but there was a smile on her lips as she stared at the busy streets of New York. She was beautiful, but she wasn’t real, was she?

“How long have you known?” Her voice finally broke the silence surrounding them in this hubbub of cars.

He swallowed a pain he felt he had known his entire life, but wasn’t fully aware of.

“I don’t know. From the beginning, maybe.”

She turned to face him, smiling but it wasn’t a smile – it was goodbye. She outstretched her hand then, and it was very reluctantly that he let her touch him. It was too painful.

“You’re going to forget me, aren’t you?”

She nodded. He felt a tear roll down his cheeks. He wanted the comfort of the sea. This ache in his chest wouldn’t be soothed by anything but the sea.

“I didn’t want to, Hook,” and there it was, that terrible, sympathetic smile on her lips.

The street lights around them became overwhelming, burnt his eyes. “But you did it anyway.”

There was a bit of anger, in the corners of his heart, a bit of bitterness inside his mouth.

“I know I did,” she finally whispered. Her fingers were brushing his hand, an open wound. She seemed to hold back herself then, and that’s when he noticed that the contours of her face were becoming blurry.

Panic shook his heart. He let go of her hand to rub his eyes with haste. He felt open palm on his shoulders, but he couldn’t see her properly anymore.

“You’re disappearing,” he exhaled, panicked.

His hand found her shoulder in a desperate attempt to hold her. But his fingers only found void.

He could still feel her fingers on his jaw, and he leaned into her touch. “I am, Hook.” She paused, pressed a kiss on his cheek, and it felt like a summer breeze. “That’s why you should move on.”

A sob seemed to jolt his shoulders. “I tried, Swan. I really tried.” He shook his head. “Couldn’t.”

He was thankful the sea had reached his eyes, but it prevented him to see the final smile she offered him. “But you should, Hook. I won’t come back.”

He already felt like he was dying, suffocating, but then she exhaled a final warning: “Don’t come looking for me.”

And she was gone, gone in sparkles of dust and he was alone in a summer night that tasted like the end of love.

.

He opened his eyes, breathed in deeply. The wood of the Jolly was singing that night, for the sea was quite agitated.

His hand came to meet his forehead. Another nightmare. He had received the note telling him to found Emma a week ago, and since then his dreams had been haunted by the lass he had so desperately tried to forget this past year.

He glanced at the window of his quarters. It was still complete darkness outside. Stars were shinning bright, and the sea was caressing his window with a lot of care.

There was a sob curled up in his throat. He clenched his jaw.

He would find her. Even if it meant losing her again. (Even if, just yet, she didn't want him to find her.)

[jinterlude]

Fight for Me (Ch.6)

↳Story Header © @softjeon (do not steal this header!)

➵ Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Female OC (feat. Kwon Ji Yong)

➵ Genre(s): Historic!AU, Medieval!AU ,Royalty!AU, Knight!AU, Romance, SMUT, Humor, & Angst

➵ SMUT Warning(s): Just some good old fashion sex (position wise: cowgirl)

➵ Words: 5.4K

➵ Summary: Once upon a time, there was a not-so-traditional kingdom. In that kingdom, the royal family had the freedom of marrying whoever his or her royal highness deems worthy. Now, of course, having that special privilege came with some interesting challenges, but that doesn’t stop a certain head-strong princess from doing whatever her heart’s desire, especially when she has her heart set on marrying her personal bodyguard. Unfortunately, her beliefs might face some hardships when a certain king sets his eye on her. Will her bodyguard continue to fight for her or is it finally her turn?

※ Previously: ch.1 | ch.2 | ch.3 | ch.4 | ch.5

※ Next Time: final chapter

Chapter 6: This is War

Previously

           “It occurred to me that we need to explain to your nurse about your sheets.” Seokjin mumbled as he draped his arm over Sumin’s bare waist.

Sumin gave him look, though he couldn’t see it.

           “What do you ‘we need to explain’? I am more than likely going to explain it to her myself while you magically disappear.” She stated as Seokjin leaned down to lightly bite her nose.

           “How about this…you explain to the nurse and I will ask your parents for an audience to discuss wedding plans.” He suggested; his fingers lightly caressed her skin.

Sumin closed her eyes as they had grown too heavy to keep open and simply hummed in response.

           “I love you, my one and only princess. The keeper of my heart. My everything.” He whispered sweetly before drifting off towards dreamland, where his mind could finally rest and think about nothing else, but a married life with Sumin.

Except… there was something wrong with that plan…

Who said that it would be his married life with Sumin?

Waves crashed against the cliffs. Seagulls flew high in the air as the breeze assisted them along the way. Nothing but the sounds of nature entered the castle grounds.

Why was this once beloved kingdom so quiet? What happened to the lively chatter that went on between every villager?

Pending war. That’s what happened.

The once neutral king now became ready for battle as the lives of his people were on the line. The kind mask he wore on his face now was a face of anger and stress.

Princess Sumin worried for him as did his wife. Their enemies must’ve known about his depleting health, and that was why there were attacking.

After a year of silence and being left alone, what triggered them? What angered these prideful kings to the point of rejecting every offer for peace?

Unfortunately, the answers that formulated in the royal family’s minds were all wrong. It wasn’t a matter of what, but who.

To be more precise, it was all because of King Ji Yong—and Sumin and her family had no idea.

Except…

Maybe for Kim Seokjin.

Something about that deceitful king never sat right with him—especially since Ji Yong had his eyes on Princess Sumin. His princess.

Sumin.

Everyone’s prized jewel.

Too bad for Ji Yong that she fell in love with Seokjin. Now, they were engaged to be married. Sumin proudly wore his ring around her neck on a rose gold chain as they both agreed that they should keep it hidden until after the war.

Something about this war screamed planned—intentional.

After news about Sumin’s betrothal to her knight spread to the other kingdoms, an extreme amount of tension filled the air. Even a tiny glare could easily start a bloody war.

Right now, Seokjin stood by Sumin’s father side and continued to discuss plans for the upcoming battle.

While with Sumin, she continued to receive letters from Ji Yong, and there were always accompanied with a single red rose.

Her eyes scanned the parchment tainted with ink as rolled her eyes for the nth time that afternoon. She felt the urge to vomit as Ji Yong’s “friendly” words always seemed to cross unspeakable boundaries.

           “Nurse!” She cried out, crumpling up the paper.

Seconds later, her nurse arrived a bit out of breath. The elderly woman bowed her head in respect, much to Sumin’s dismay. She had always told the poor woman that there was no need for formalities since she was like her second mother. While her mother ran the kingdom alongside her father, the nurse cared and loved for Sumin as if she was her own.

           “Yes, princess?” The nurse answered, ignoring Sumin’s pointless protests.

           “First, can you please stop bowing your head to me. It is quite odd. Second, please burn this note,” She handed over the note to the nurse, “It is from Ji Yong yet again.” She said, rubbing the sides of her forehead.

The nurse felt nothing but pity towards her princess. Ever since that awful king returned to his kingdom, he had yet to cease with his advances. In fact, they became frequent once the news of Sumin’s engagement reached him.

           “Does Seokjin know about these letters?” asked the Nurse as she folded up the letter and tucked it away in the pocket of her skirt.

Sumin’s breath hitched. Her heart stopped for a split second. A nervous expression appeared on her face as she tried to figure out how to politely tell her dear friend the truth.

However, the nurse took her lack of speech as a no. Then, she gave the young princess a look.

           “Why have you not told your knight about these letters? I am almost certain that if he did indeed know about these appalling words from King Ji Yong, Seokjin would put in an immediate stop to them.” The nurse said, reasoning with the secretly scared princess.

Sumin sighed deeply, “Because, I have heard talks of him acting as a general for our army. Fighting in my father’s place,” She paused; a look of utter concern glazed over her eyes, “I do not want to trouble him with such tiny problems.” She finished.

           “Oh, hush child. He is to be your future-husband. It is his job to know and take care of your problems as it is your job to take care of his as well.” The nurse retorted, waving off her excuses.

Sumin gawked. Throughout her years of living, never once has she heard her dear nurse use such a tone. Sumin honestly thought that her nurse was capable of such a thing. Most of the time, the nurse’s tone was always lighthearted and quite playful. Sometimes, she would use a stern tone, but only to discipline the princess when she was a child. Now? This was an entirely different tone—and that impressed Sumin just a tiny bit.

As Sumin opened her mouth to give compliments to her second mother, a light knock echoed throughout her chambers.

A look of confusion washed over face as both Sumin and the nursed eyed each other, wondering what or who could that be.

Sumin knew that it could not have been her knight since he had sent a message telling her that he would be with her father all day.

Not wasting another moment, Sumin instructed the nurse to answer the door and waited patiently for the so-called intruder to enter her line of sight.

Suddenly, a short gasp escaped her lips followed by a squeal of delight. She bundled up her skirt and ran full-force into the person’s arms.

A bright smile painted her lips as she breathed in the person’s musky scent.

           “You know…if I had known that this would be the sort of welcome I would be privileged to, then I would have left your father’s side a long time ago.” Teased a familiar voice.

Sumin glanced up; love and happiness sparkled in her eyes. She had longed for his presence ever since there had been hints of war that lingered in the air.

           “Oh, hush. You know you missed me as much as I had missed you, Seokjin.” Sumin teased back, smirking playfully.

Seokjin nodded as he could not argue with his smart princess.

           “I believe that I had missed a tad bit more than you, but I will allow you to believe that we have longed for each other equally.” He said jokingly.

Sumin released him from her hold and took a step back. A tiny pout replaced the bright smile that graced her lips.

           “You are unbelievable Sir Seokjin,” She crossed her arms over her chest, “I believe I have tolerated your presence long enough. Now, leave my sight.” She demanded coldly, fighting the urge to smile.

Seokjin raised his brow, deciding if he wanted to call her bluff or do as he was told. After quickly debating, he chose the latter. He always loved to hear Sumin beg for him. Just thinking about all the times, she had begged for him, sent a sudden wave of euphoria crashing down on his body. Why? It was always during their lovemaking sessions. She had begged for him to go faster, rougher. She even desired to scream his name while he sent wave after wave of pleasure throughout her body.

God, remembering how loud her moans had gotten while he was practically pounding her pretty little pussy caused his dick to harden.

Out of all the times to become aroused, he had to pick a time where Sumin didn’t seem like in the mood.

The joys of being an adult male and in love with the prettiest woman on Earth.

The Holy Father had to hate him for not only having sex before their wedding but also having these recurring naughty thoughts while a war was about to happen.

Sumin, on the other hand, noticed the odd expression that appeared on her fiancé’s face. A familiar emotion glazed over his eyes while his lips parted a tiny bit. His breathing grew rapid, and his heart pounded against his chest.

Sumin felt the urge to take a step back as she suddenly felt vulnerable. She glanced at her nurse and subtly dismissed her as she did not want an audience for what was bound to happen next.

The nurse fought the urge to laugh as she shook her head and swiftly left the princess’s chambers.

           “Those children, I swear…Sumin is bound to be with child if she and Seokjin do not lessen their lovemaking.” She thought with an amusing smile.

Now alone in her chambers, Seokjin immediately captured her lips; his hands tenderly cupped her cheeks. His lips pressed firmly against hers as he slowly guided her to the bed and then gently laid her down, careful not to accidentally squish his lover.

Their eyes bore into each other’s; an intense amount of love that was unspoken between them. Whenever the childhood lovers were together, they rarely confessed their love because it was never needed. Their hearts and minds knew how the other felt, so— it was rarely said.

An aspect of their bond that both Sumin and Seokjin loved and cherished.

           “You know…I will never tire of seeing this sight,” He pressed a light kiss on her nose, “You underneath me,” His hands trailed down the sides of her body, “Your addicting lips slightly parted as my hardened member penetrates your womanhood.” He finished, whispering seductively into her ear.

The warmth in his breath, and his provocative words resulted in a soft moan to leave her lips.

Just his mere words were enough to arouse Sumin. He had no need to touch her, and that made Seokjin to swell up with pride. He just loved having this unexplainable control over his princess and vice versa. Sumin had Seokjin like putty in her hands, and he was perfectly fine with that since it sometimes resulted in some new and exciting adventures.

Speaking of which…

A tiny smirk slowly graced her face as a rather interesting idea popped into her mind. She lightly pushed against Seokjin’s chest, signaling that she wanted to sit up. Seokjin stared at her with nothing but confusion etched on his face as created enough space between them. Though, he already missed the closeness between them.

           “Are you no longer in the mood, sweetheart?” asked Seokjin.

Sumin laughed softly, “Oh, there is no doubt in my mind that I want the two of us to engage in passionate lovemaking, but…” She trailed on, trying to figure out how to word what was on her mind.

Seokjin urged her to continue, finding the unexpected anticipation to be nerve wrecking.

           “But…I am quite tired of being underneath you, my love,” She boldly pushed him down; his back now against her mattress, “I believe that it is your turn to submit to me.” She whispered seductively as her hands reached behind her and untied the strings to her dress.

Seokjin watched eagerly as her breasts became slightly exposed due to her corset loosening up. His lips slightly ajar as he desperately wanted to attack the soft tissues of her skin with his lips. He desired to mark up her pretty neck as her hands clutched his hair, tugging it softly as she wanted more skin-on-skin contact.

Unfortunately, Sumin positioned herself in a way that restrained his body enough so that he could not sit up. She wanted him to simply relax and let her do all the work. An action that was considered a rarity in a princess, so Seokjin was in for a real treat.

His lip slowly swept the bottom of his lip as Seokjin clenched and unclenched his fists. The restraints were killing him, and he wasn’t even tied up. Seokjin blamed her archery teacher for building her upper body strength, and her horseback riding teacher for allowing to build up her leg muscles.

As if she wasn’t strong already…Seokjin had traumatic flashbacks to when their mere children, and she always pinned him down onto the ground.

Damn woman…

With her torso completely exposed, Sumin brushed her fingers through her luscious locks. Her semi-wavy hair cascaded down her face as she stared intensely at Seokjin. She lightly caressed her body, sending tiny jolts of electricity throughout her. Her erect nipples ached to be touched by her lover’s hands and mouth.

           “S-Sumin…please free my arms.” Sumin heard Seokjin beg; the need to touch her delicate body became unbearable.

Sumin peeked down; a playful yet enticing smirk decorated her face. She raised her brow before tapping her chin as she thought about his request.

           “And why would I do that my beloved knight?” asked Sumin, maintaining the sexy smirk.

A deep groan developed in the back of his throat. Sumin was really pushing his buttons, and it wasn’t even nighttime yet.

           “Because, I know how much you love…how much you crave my touch, so please do us both a favor and free me.” Seokjin calmly answered, stating the obvious.

Sumin hummed in response. Seokjin always tend to make incredibly good points, however, she had to remain strong and in control.

           “That may be true, however, I want you to know what it is like to be in my position,” Her hands untucked the cotton shirt from his pants, “I want you to feel the burning sensation that you managed to always leave on my body,” She gently caressed his torso, feeling the his six-pack in the process, “I simply want you to enjoy what I have to give you my dear knight.” She finished softly before nipping his earlobe and pulling away.

Seokjin couldn’t help but growl lowly as this was pure torture. If she wanted to know what she felt like, she could’ve just told him. He started to become a horrible influence on his not-so-innocent princess.

As he opened his mouth to argue—even beg to at least let him rest his hands on her bare waist—Sumin unbuttoned his pants and trailed her fingers down his holy v-line.

Seokjin sighed deeply as he felt her fingers wrap around his hardened length. The warmth from her hands created this remarkable sensation that he couldn’t help but buckle his hips, thrusting himself into her hands.

Her hand began to rub up and down, pumping his dick, as her free hand disappeared underneath her skirt and played with her clit.

Her thumb and index finger matched the pace of her other hand, leaving both her and Seokjin a moaning mess.

Their moans gradually grew louder and louder as the urge to climax increased.

Sumin leaned backwards a little, allowing enough room for her to fully release Seokjin’s dick from his pants. She then repositioned herself, letting just the tip to touch her soaking wet core.

Feeling how insanely wet she was made Seokjin want to flip their positions and take her at once. He wanted to pound her cute little cunt until her moans practically became screams as he pinned her hands above her head. Her beautiful breasts pushed against his naked torso as he rested his forehead against, filling her ears with profanities and grunts.

However, he decided to indulge his princess and let her be in complete and utter control.

           “This is new angle for you, my darling. Take it nice and slow. Understand?” Seokjin kindly advised, encouraging his future-wife as he sensed a bit of nervousness from her.

Hearing his words of encouragement filled her heart with joy and sent a jolt of confidence through her veins. Sumin took this newly found confidence and allowed it to fuel her.

She slowly lowered herself onto him; tiny gasps escaped her plump lips as she did.

Seokjin tried to control his breathing, however, it was proven quite difficult as he felt both the warmth and wetness that came from Sumin. He was amazed with how tight she managed to feel. Yet, they had shared plenty of intimate moments.

The wonderful world of a woman’s body…

A concept that Seokjin would simply enjoy and stop questioning.

He watched with anticipation as he patiently waited for Sumin to adjust to the new angle and his size. He gently caressed her soft skin, muttering soothing and loving words.

Suddenly, he felt Sumin’s hand firmly placed on his chest, anchoring herself against him. Then, she lightly rocked herself; her hips lifted up just a bit before lowering down. She repeated the action, gradually picking her pace as she arched her back and allowed the pleasurable sensation to take control.

The lust clouded both their minds. The love filled their hearts.

Both moans and grunts echoed throughout her chambers as Sumin’s rocking slowly became sloppy.

Her inner walls constricted around Seokjin; an action that signified that Sumin was close to releasing.

           “Shit…Sumin…” Seokjin grunted out, losing his train of thought.

Luckily for him, Sumin knew him well. She knew that he wanted them to climax together. He wanted her sweet juices mixing with his.

She uttered a quick, “I know.”, before quickening her pace and rubbing her clit vigorously, intensifying the wave of pleasure that she experienced.

           “S-Seokjin…I am g-going to…” Sumin whimpered, feeling Seokjin’s fingers dig into her skin.

Seokjin grunted in response as he thrusted upwards, meeting her halfway.

           “I know, my princess...I am almost there too…” He mustered out; he too felt the urge to climax draw near.

With a few sloppier rocking hip motions and thrusts, the princess and her knight saw a blanket of white.

Sumin collapsed on top of Seokjin; her sweaty forehead rested against his sweaty shoulder.

Seokjin softly rubbed her back as he caught his breath and calmed his racing heart.

A few airy chuckles left his lips as Seokjin wrapped his muddled mind around the fact that he found a new found favorite position.

He should allow Sumin to be on top more often. He had full view of Sumin’s breasts, and her face contorted in pleasure.

What a memorable sight…

Seokjin would remember it for the rest of his life.

After gathering enough strength, Sumin rolled off Seokjin and laid beside him, resting her head on his chest.

Seokjin wrapped his arm around her, pulling her even closer even though it was not remotely even possible. They were as close as can be.

           “I cannot believe that we had spent most of the afternoon doing this…” He stated, chuckling.

Sumin giggled softly, “I know my sweet knight. I believe that we have made a new record.”

           “I think we came quite close to be quite frank.” Seokjin said, smiling warmly at her.

As Sumin opened her mouth to speak, the lovers heard a light knock on the door.

Sumin’s eyes bulged as she quickly pulled the covers over her chest while Seokjin snickered at her frantic behavior.

           “Oh, my goodness. Sumin, I am almost positive that the castle workers know about our intimacy, so there is honestly no reason to hide it.” He pointed out, earning him a smack and glare from Sumin.

She then shouted a quick, “enter”, before grabbing Seokjin’s hands to prevent him fondling her under the sheets.

Moments later, an out of breath castle servant came running in. The couple eyed the servant with curiosity. Why was he so tired? Did he honestly run all the way to her chambers?

           “Sir Seokjin. Your highness. Your parents would like to request your presence for supper this evening.” Announced the royal messenger as he bowed his head in respect; though, he had been careful to not lock gazes with them.

Sumin smiled politely and acknowledged the message. She then instructed the messenger to tell her parents that she and Seokjin should be down shortly.

           “Yes, milady. Excuse me.” The royal messenger bowed once more before quickly excusing himself from their sight.

Once they heard the door shut, tiny snickers filled the room as the royal couple could not help but feel pity towards the poor man.

           “Let us not keep your mother and father waiting much longer, princess.” Seokjin suggested, pushing off the covers and leaving the bed. He then bent down and picked up his discarded shirt.

Sumin eyed his ass; an alluring smile painted on her lips. Her hormones were slowly worked up again, and Seokjin knew his princess all too well.

           “Stop eyeing me like how our horses eye their carrots and get changed, Sumin.” Seokjin instructed, securing his belt around his pants. He wanted to look presentable since he was meeting his future-in-laws.

Sumin pouted as she shuffled out of bed.

           “Wow…I cannot believe you called me by my actual name. You normally call me a pet name.” She said, walking over to her wardrobe and scanning her many dresses.

Seokjin rolled his eyes, “I do, but we need to hurry. I would fancy not having yet another talk of when you are going to be with child.”

Hearing his statement caused Sumin to giggle softly as she picked out a dusty rose-colored dress and revealed her chose to Seokjin.

           “What do you think, my beloved?” asked Sumin, wanting her fiancé’s opinion.

Seokjin turned around and eyed her dress of choice. His eyes scanned the incredible floral detail in the lace that covered the satin dust rose skirt. The sleeves looked like they would go past her elbows, and the straps would rest perfectly on her shoulders. That tiny exposure was enough to rile him up yet still maintained that sense of modesty. His fiancée had wonderful taste in dresses. Now, if only she’d fancy wearing them a lot more, then he would die a happy man.

           “It is quite beautiful, my princess.” He confessed, smiling warmly.

Sumin grinned brightly before disappearing to change into her dinner attire. Seconds later, she resurfaced struggling to tie her dress. Sheesh, she could tie her sash, but she could not tie the strings that kept her corset nice and tight. The last thing she needed was to reveal all the love marks that were finally fading.

Seokjin noticed her struggles and cocked up his brow; an amused smirk graced his face.

He calmly walked over to Sumin and offered his services.

           “No, I can do it!” She refused, still struggling.

Seokjin gave her look and asked if she was sure.

           “Oh! Just help me, please!” Sumin practically begged, growing annoyed with the fact that she needed help.

           “Why is that you dislike asking me for help yet allow your lovely nurse to assist you with no problem?” asked Seokjin as he quickly laced her corset and tightened the strings.

Sumin huffed, “That is because that I have no choice but to allow her to assist me. You know how stubborn that nanny can be.”

           “Whatever you say, sweetheart. You just do not like the idea of me helping you.” Seokjin argued before placing a sweet kiss on her temple.

Sumin ignored his comments and asked him if they could go down for supper, walking towards the door and leaving behind Seokjin.

Seokjin watched her retreating body create more space between them. Without a second thought, he rushed after. He shouted at her, demanding her to slow down and wait for him, but Sumin ignored him.

Here was her infamous “play hard to get” mood…

One would think that Seokjin would have been used to this since she had always been like that ever since they were children. However, it annoyed him back then, and it annoyed him now.

One of the many moments where he questioned why he fell in love with this entertaining woman. At least one thing was for certain, he would never grow bored of the same old thing.

With the dining hall in sight, Sumin peered over her shoulder and playfully winked at her frustrated knight. She quickly mouthed, “I love you.”, to him before making her presence known to her parents.

She happily kissed her parents’ cheeks and asked them how they were doing this fine evening as she took her usual seat—right across from her mother and next to her father, on his right side.

           “It is always a delight to see your smiling face, my treasured jewel.” Sumin heard her father say. Hints of tiredness laced his voice.

Sumin remained smiling, wanting to the strength that both her parents desperately needed during a time like this.

           “Well, you, mother, and Seokjin are my reasons for smiling, so I am always quite happy.” Sumin stated as she picked up her fork.

Sumin’s father nodded slowly; his eyes drooped a little bit.

Sumin’s mother took noticed and nudged him slightly. Her heart ached for her ailing husband.

           “Tell me daughter, how are yours and Seokjin’s wedding preparation coming along? Do let me or your father know if there is anything that you need.” Sumin’s mother inquired, fighting the urge to excuse both her and her husband from the dinner table to rest in their chambers.

Sumin finished chewing the luxurious cut of meat and quickly patted her mouth with the napkin.

           “Um…well…the wedding preparations are currently on hold.” She shyly admitted, glancing at Seokjin, who was equally as nervous.

Both her mother and father eyed with both confusion and curiosity. They had thought that their daughter and her fiancé were close to being done. Now, they were hearing that their wedding plans had been put on hold. Was it because of the war?

Sumin’s father gestured for Seokjin to come to the table which Seokjin obeyed. He left his post and walked up to the royal family.

           “Yes, your majesty.” He greeted, bowing his head in respect.

           “May I ask why you and my daughter postponing the wedding?” The king asked as he lifted his water goblet.

Seokjin noted how shaky the king’s hand was when he lifted the goblet. Poor Sumin. Her heart would be devastated once her father passes away.

           “Sumin and I discussed both the advantages and disadvantages of having our wedding while there is talk of war, and we have concluded that it would be wise to wait until this over.” Seokjin answered, averting his gaze away from the king’s.

The king rubbed his chin and directed his attention towards his daughter.

           “Is this true, Sumin?” asked the King, letting out a tiny painful groan.

Sumin eyed her father with worried eyes; her heart honestly broke to see her father in such excruciating pain. She wanted nothing more to find a cure for whatever that hurt her father.

Before she could get carried away with her thoughts, her father called out to her, wondering why his daughter is unusually silent.

           “My deepest apologies, father. I am simply worried about you and failing health is all.” She said, smiling sadly.

Her father fought the tears that slowly pooled in his eyes. He never once liked looking frail in front of his family but lately, his body was not getting the message. He saw bits and pieces of his life flashing before his eyes. It was if the Holy father was telling him that his time was ending.

He slowly reached over and gently grasped his daughter’s hand. He smiled warmly at her as he rested her hand on his cheek, feeling the warmth radiate from it.

           “Please do not worry about your old man, my darling daughter. I will continue to fight whatever it is that riddles my body, and I want you to smile more and worry less about your mother and I,” He then held his wife’s hand, “We may be old, but we still have some fight left in us.” He stated firmly with a determined smirk.

Sumin simply nodded, not being able to find the next set of words.

Sumin’s father patted her on the bed and then excused himself from the table. It was time for him and his wife to get plenty of rest. They had a long day ahead of them tomorrow.

Sumin said goodnight to her parents and waited for them to leave the room before asking Seokjin if he wanted to take a walk with her. She desperately needed fresh air to clear her mind and erase the horrible sight that she was forced to witness.

Small tears trickled down her face as short sniffles filled the dining hall, alerting the castle staff.

They grew unsure on what they should do next. Should they alert her parents? Should they fetch her nanny? They hated seeing their beloved princess cry.

Luckily, they didn’t have to witness it much longer. Seokjin gently helped her up and wiped the tears away before it dropped to the floor.

           “It will be alright, darling,” Seokjin pecked her forehead, “The king and queen will be fine. They just need a good night’s rest is all.” He said softly, soothing her worries away.

Sumin sniffled, trying her hardest to stop the tears but ultimately failing. She then pressed her face to Seokjin’s chest, soaking his cotton shirt. Her sobs became uncontrollable. No words left her lips. Just choked out cries.

Seokjin rested his cheek on top of her head and gently rubbed her back.

           “Come, my love. Let us take a walk in the garden. I know there is something else bothering you.” He suggested, slowly escorting the two of them out of the castle walls.

The cool breeze greeted the lovers first followed by the soothing smell of the salty waves. The crescent moon barely peeped through the trees as it tried its hardest to illuminate the garden. Luckily, the glorious moon had the help from many stars that twinkled high in the sky.

Seeing the moon and starts, even maybe a few planets that decided to grace the world, always brought a sense of tranquility within Sumin. She closed her eyes and drank in the calming atmosphere that appeared before them.

Silence filled the space between them, however, it was a comfortable silence. Seokjin knew what Sumin was about to say and vice versa.

           “Are you worried about me fighting in this war?” asked Seokjin, lacing his fingers with hers.

Sumin squeezed his hand and replied, “I am not worried. I am afraid.”

           “Why are you afraid, sweetheart?” Seokjin questioned.

           “I am afraid that you will not come back to me. I cannot bear the thought of losing both you and my father. You two are the most important men in my life. How can I go on living on this Earth where the two of you are not here?” Sumin confessed her innermost concerns. Her heart pounded against the chest. The oxygen slowly left her lungs as she felt this weird and tight feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Seokjin heard Sumin’s sporadic breathing and pulled her into a loving embrace. He rested his chin on top of her head and uttered words of love and comfort.

           “I do not want to marry that horrid King Ji Yong. I will not!” Sumin declared, alerting Seokjin.

Upon hearing his name, Seokjin’s body immediately tensed, and a sudden wave of fury engulfed his body. That evil king would not leave his princess alone, and Seokjin had grown tired of him.

           “Sumin, what are you talking about?” Seokjin inquired, glancing down at her.

Sumin remained silent, unsure if she should finally tell him the truth.

After quickly debating, Sumin opened her mouth and said,

           “It is King Ji Yong… he…”

A/N: Oh my goodness! We are nearing the end of my favorite story that I had ever written to date. I honestly feel like that the love I bear for Seokjin shows in my mind, and I wouldn’t have it any other way! He deserves nothing but the best! Anyway, I hope you up like this update and~ as of today (7.16.2018 // I already wrote this and then scheduled it to be published lol), I’m thinking that the first chapter of the sequel should be up sometime in August! So...prepare yourself!

Don’t forget to leave a like/reblog/comment/send in an ask on your thoughts! I love hearing them! :)

- Kim

[abfa-writing]

Rewatch fic: 1x02

Here’s a short fic inspired by 1x02 “The thing you love most”. Many thanks to @watchingfairytales for organizing the rewatch! Also, goodness...I’m so behind in the rewatch it’s as if I never started heh. Expect some mini fic spam going on in the next few days as I attempt to catch up…

The tree is merely a tiny sapling when it arrives on the grounds. Mother surely spent an exorbitant amount of money on having the best gardeners redo the entire property, but Regina is too young to particularly understand or care.

It is a bright and sunny afternoon, and all she wants to do is play outside rather than learn boring ‘ladylike’ manners with her nanny. The moment the woman’s back is turn, she is slipping out of her large and uncomfortable chair, and sneaking out the door. The gardens are full of new people bustling around, shouting orders, planting large and unusual bushes, and trimming the hedges. Regina runs through the crowds quickly, trying to find somewhere quieter to play, when she arrives in one of the side orchards. There before her stretch endless rows of small saplings, their roots wrapped in cloth.

‘What are you doing here, little one?’ a voice calls, and a huge man suddenly appears. His beard and wild hair make him seem almost as hairy as a bear, but his eyes are kind as he kneels down to address her. ‘Are you supposed to be this far away from the house?’

Regina ignores this question, and points to the unusual sight.

‘What are those?’ she demands, and he chuckles in response.

‘They’re apple trees,’ he informs her. She wrinkles her nose at this.

‘Trees are big,’ she says skeptically. ‘These are not much bigger than me.’

The gardener takes her small hand, and leads her forward towards a random little sapling.

‘Just like humans, trees have to start small,’ he tells her. ‘I’m planting all of these ones in this orchard, where they will grow big and strong, and provide apples for your kitchen. This species is the most vigorous and hearty of all apple trees. It’ll weather any storm.’

Regina can’t help but reach out, patting the leaves gently. The tiny tree seems to quiver slightly with pride under her attention.

‘Show me?’ she asks, all thoughts of playing for the afternoon leaving her mind.

She spends the rest of the afternoon planting her little tree in the orchard. The gardener can plant almost all the rest in the same amount of time, but she wants to do this one alone (except, perhaps, with help to lift it…she is still rather small after all). As they work, he tells her all sorts of techniques to look after apple trees, and when to know if the fruit is ready for picking.

When her nanny finds her hours later, Regina’s hands and knees are covered with dirt, with a large smudge of Earth across her cheek.

‘Go clean up before your mother sees you,’ she orders. As Regina is led away, she waves farewell to the gardener. She doesn’t see him again, but never forgets the advice he gave her.

Five years later, a blight hits the orchard, and not even being the hardiest species of apple tree can save most of the trees. Almost all die, and Regina has to sneak out almost every night to check her tree and tend to its branches. In the end, it is the only one to survive.

The tree grows and grows, and soon it towers above Regina’s head. She still looks after it, but now it is sturdy enough that she can hike her skirts up and clamber into its branches. The world seems muted and far away when she sits, cocooned in its branches and leaves, and this is the place she chooses to go whenever Mother makes her upset.

One day, she is hiding up the tree when everything appears to shake. Someone has dared to steal one of her apples!

She drops to the ground suddenly, prepared to shout at the intruder who dares touch her tree. But when she straightens, she realizes before her is a young boy around her own age.

‘Sorry,’ he says, with an embarrassed smile. ‘I didn’t realize anyone was up there. Just wanted something for my lunch.’

He is the most beautiful boy Regina has ever seen, and all ability to speak seems to have fled her mind.

‘Daniel,’ the boy continues, holding out a slightly dirty hand for her to shake.

‘R-Regina,’ she stutters, and as their fingers touch, something shoots through her heart.

The apple tree becomes their favourite place to meet over the years, sometimes sitting in the grass with their backs against the rough trunk, other times perched high in the branches, giggling at each other.

Daniel kisses Regina for the first time while they are sheltering under the branches from heavy rainfall. Their lips and tongues are sticky and sweet from apples.

When Regina is forced to wed the King, she is taken far away from the Manor and grounds she has called her home for the last eighteen years of her life.

She feels ill from it all – from the loss of Daniel, the loss of her freedom, the future ahead she cannot bear to think about.

‘Our wedding day is almost upon us, and yet I have not presented my bride-to-be with a gift!’ Leopold announces one day at breakfast. Snow claps her hands excitedly.

‘Oh Papa! You should get her some beautiful, sparkling jewellery!’ the child bursts out. Regina bites her lip, and stays silent.

‘What would make you the happiest, dear Regina?’ Leopold asks, attention half on her and half on his meal.

‘My freedom,’ she almost says, but she knows that would not be a wise thing to ask for.

‘You are most generous, my King,’ she says instead, bowing her head slightly. ‘Of course, being welcomed into your family is a gift enough. But if it pleases your Lord, I would like for my apple tree to be brought here.’

‘How quaint,’ Leopold replies, his brow furrowing slightly. ‘It is not a gift to show in court, but I suppose we can all appreciate wanting something from our home kingdom. Let it be done!’

Regina is almost worried sick that the tree will not make the journey alive. She watches out of her window every morning, and several weeks go by until she spies a small group of people on a cart arriving at the palace gates. Her tree is wrapped carefully on the back.

She nearly flies down the stairs to get to the courtyard quickly, and spends the rest of the day overseeing the re-planting.

Its new placement, in the palace grounds, does not change the meaning of the tree for her. It is her salvation whenever she feels her heart breaking, and the servants learn quickly not to approach her if they see her figure huddled under its branches.

Years later, when Regina’s heart has turned dark, and her hands are awash with blood, she still comes to the tree. It is the only object in the entire kingdom besides Rocinante that she can express kindness to, her hands gently patting the leaves as she chooses which apples to pick.

For the first two days after the curse, Regina barely thinks of her tree. There is so much to explore and understand in this new land – new personalities, new technology, new positions in society. Regina starts to settle into her role as Mayor quickly, and on the third day she is working in her new office when the desire to take a break and enjoy the sunshine overcomes her.

The tree is the first thing she sees when she enters the Town Hall garden, sitting proudly in the center. She rests her forehead against the bark, feeling its rough surface dig into her skin, and starts to cry. She shouldn’t be so happy to see an object that reminds her of all the painful memories she is trying to escape from, but there is something comforting about this one constant in her life.

Over time, she starts to remember the sweet memories of her and Daniel under the tree’s branches, rather than the sorrow felt during her years as Queen. When Henry comes into her life, she takes him into the garden during the spring and summer months, and they have picnics in the grass.

Henry first learns to stand by holding onto the trunk of the tree, his little fingers clutching tightly as he giggles over this new-found skill. A few days later, he uses the same technique to take wobbly steps towards Regina’s open arms.

His first baby tooth is lost by biting into a slice of apple, and he smiles proudly to show off his gap. Regina thinks maybe she has found her happy ending after all.

Henry’s birth mother arrives without much fanfare at first, pulling up in an ugly yellow car that looks as if it’s seen better decades.

Regina hates the woman first on principle, and then because she dares look her in the face and ask if she loves her own son. She wants Emma Swan gone from Storybrooke, out of their lives and minds, and is determined to do whatever it takes to make that happen.

It all comes to a head when she is working in her office one afternoon, and the sound of a chainsaw suddenly cuts through the air. One glance out of the window, and there is Miss Swan, cutting down a large branch from her apple tree. A wave of pain and anger sweeps across Regina at the sight. It is not enough that the woman is trying to interfere with Henry, but she seems insistent on hurting everything Regina holds close to her heart.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she snarls, marching furiously toward the infuriating woman. Miss Swan postures loudly, throwing down the chainsaw and walking away in triumph, as if her words mean any sort of true threat to Regina. All they have done is pierce her heart further, and as she bends down to pick up a fallen apple, her fist clenches so tightly that the fruit breaks apart, as if a heart turning to dust.

Later, after she has proven to Miss Swan just how dangerous it is to underestimate her, she returns to the garden to tend properly to the tree’s wound.

‘What a mess,’ Mr Gold says, ambling into the garden.

‘Not for long,’ Regina replies, and as much as she’s talking about the situation on hand with Miss Swan, she is also talking about her butchered tree.

As a gardener once told her, it’s the hardiest apple tree of all.

[alltheworldsinmyhead]

  OUR FUTURE WILL BE A BRIGHT ONE: CHAPTER SEVEN

                     eremika soulmates through time modern au

( chapter one/chapter two/ chapter three/chapter four/ chapter five/chapter six/ ff.net/ ao3)

YI RI SAN QUI

CHINESE IDIOM; "ONE DAY, THREE AUTUMNS" – INTENSELY MISSING OR LONGING FOR SOMEONE SO THAT ONE SINGLE DAY APART FEELS LIKE THREE YEAR

 "and it ain't a mystery you fell for me

we're just two lost souls trying to find our peace

love like ours ain't a masterpiece

it's a good day in the sun            

i was born to love you

out where the water is wide

make me your country bride

you'll be my prince of tides

you were born to heal me

under a velvet sky

cattails dancing in the light

we were born to live a long and happy life

a happy life

- Delta Rae A Long and Happy Life

  People notice things, they are well aware of that; it is surely spotted how baron often seems to be dozing off when his wife shamelessly winks at other men above her feathery fan, but his dear friend is always the apple of his eye. How baroness herself is terribly fond of said friend's wife and can be rarely seen without her by her side, both of them dazzlingly dashing with their blonde hair and tightly-laced corsets.

How much time the four of them spend together; the sheer close proximity of two couples would be enough to raise rumors, but, in addition to that, they slowly but surely get too lazy to cover their tracks, get tired of masks and lies and deception. Eventually, it's almost like they are not even trying anymore.  They always split for vacation, when two women enjoy the thermal waters of Vichy or well-stocked libraries of their respective estates and two men laze around and almost carelessly spend golden mountains of money on wine and blackjack in Monaco 

 (but never women, they would never buy a single woman and the baroness and her lovely lady in waiting never take men. They would all preen or giggle or send a smile or two, charming and daring, but none of them is ever actually caught red-handed. In a way, you could say that they are shockingly faithful to their respective partners – not to mistake with 'spouses'.

That is  worth noting too.)

They mix clothes and rely on servants and hotel service not to spill spicy details about any compromising and surprising positions and configurations in which they may be or not be caught; they leave dozens of apartments covered in feathers from ripped pillows, with ruined bed rests, silk ribbons thrown haphazardly all around the floor and love bites on display on the skins of their necks

They chase after one another through long corridors of castles and mansions, skirts hitched up and cravats untied, hands reaching for wrong hands, lips locked with forbidden lips. Laughing out loud like children, the baron and his friend stroll around, tousled hair and all, glued at the hip, their wives following them, clad in smirks and delicate lace and shamelessness as two cheetahs in bejeweled collars.  Frowned-upon desire put proudly on display like an ornate Faberge egg.

Stormy sky blue and soft baby blue irises caught in a shared gaze, sparkling emeralds always meeting opalescent greys.

Done with running and hiding, having only enough decency to use marriage titles, their affairs hidden by the sheer layer of translucent ice. A blind man could see through it easily.

So yes, people notice things and maybe even know things; but for some time, they all somehow get lucky and make it; buy their freedom to love and live with pearls and diamonds and defiance, and enjoy every second they are given.

Live like royalty, like gods among mortals, blinding in their disgusting extravaganza. Their years spent together are endless summers filled with baked swans and tender lobster tails served on silver trays, with sky-high elaborate wigs, with parties and dances and sexual plays, tiny poodles on silk leashes, horses with hooves painted in gold.

It's not gossips that put an end to this wonderland; it's a deadly female.

Madame Guillotine cuts through shining threads of their lives in four clean strikes, but it is all easy to bear as even she cannot sever the bonds that tie them all together. 

***

 There's an album full of Eren's baby pictures on Mikasa's lap and a cup of tea in her hand; cinnamon- smelling crumbs scattered on the table in front of her.

Carla is busying herself in the kitchen with dinner, her son helping her out, or attempting to do so; she can hear them bantering and playfully snapping at each other the way only a loving, if slightly overbearing parent and an equally loving, but a little bit irked child can, but they are not loud enough to interrupt her train of thought.

And that is- well.

She's mostly trying to clear her head a bit because there's a lot to take in.

In ten minutes since she has entered the Jeager's house, she's been immediately seated in the living room, given a hot drink and a heavy load of Eren-related information. He can knit, apparently, was a star soccer player from primary up until police academy, did wrestling for a while, knows how to make a mean omelette, tried living in a forest for three weeks once , owns a pug (she wonders why he didn't feel the need to tell her this particular thing. Maybe he assumed she's a cat person and decided to keep quiet, which is – just idiotic, to be honest. She's not a heartless monster, for fuck's sake; pugs are adorable. Everyone loves pugs).  He's hard-working, ambitious, driven and determined and loyal to a fault. Never surrenders and never gives up; always finishes what he has started. An idiot sometimes, mouth quicker than brain and a troublemaker, but with a heart made out of sheer gold.

Carla, Mikasa thinks, would be an excellent PR specialist, if she ever becomes tired of working as a nurse. She has an urge to interrupt her monologue to assure her that, no, she doesn't really need to advertise her son so fiercely. She's already convinced, sold, bought, whatever.

But Eren's getting more flustered and flustered with every word getting out of his mom's mouth and duh, Mikasa enjoys his struggle way too much to put it to an end so soon.

Absent-mindedly, she turns pages of the album; Eren grows up in front of her eyes , from a wrinkled newborn to an awfully cute toddler, a toothy-grinned first grader, a frowning middle schooler and an awkward teenager, his lanky limbs not knowing how to operate simultaneously.

And then there are photos from his high school graduation, Eren laughing, head thrown back, surrounded by a huge group of friends, all wrapped around each other, young and shining in their capes. Hulking blond guy and a tall dark-haired one; athletic freckled girl with her arms around tiny beauty with sparkling blue eyes, a shorty with military cut spinning around laughing girl with thick ponytail,  skinny fair-haired guy, glasses on his nose and the sweetest smile. She makes a mental note to ask him about their names.

And – of course- the last picture is Eren getting his badge, his eyes shining with something that looks suspiciously similar to tears.

Her own heart swells a little with pride and she can hardly fight a small smile that finds its way to her lips. Out of all the people in the world, he is the one she will get to share her life with and she couldn't be happier with the fate's choice.

"Mikasa?" Eren emerges from the kitchen, a blue bowl filled with something smelling of sage and rosemary in his hands and an orange apron hanging loosely around his hips. "You're alright?"

She smiles at him, putting the album on the table and standing up.

"Yeah, everything's fine. You need help?"

He shakes his head and opens his mouth but before he can say anything, Carla's voice rings from the kitchen:

"Actually, sweetheart, can you set the table, please? My son still hasn't mastered this art, despite many years of practice." 

„Mom, please, stop."  Eren sends her a very apologetic look and storms back into kitchen and Mikasa can do nothing but try to stop the giggle from escaping from her lips. She loves it all so much.

It's not just Eren she's getting. It's this house and Carla, and the pug, and the people from the photographs in Eren's album. It's a whole new world, shiny and bright and ready for her to take and be welcomed in.

And with that thought warming her head-to-toe, she follows Eren to ask Carla where are cutlery and glasses, listening to the mother-son banter quietly, with the cheek-achingly-wide smile painted on her face.

  She almost moans in delight, taking yet another piece of chocolate cake into her mouth, savoring the taste on her tongue.  She tries to hide that and her cover is good, he'll give her that – but he's no fool; even a complete monster would turn into a saint for just a bite of this heavenly thing that Carla somehow enchants in their old oven.

And he's seen it so many times, this expression of wonder on so many faces, but it still suits hers just best. His mom is beaming from the other side of the table, asking Mikasa questions about her culinary preferences so that she would know what to cook for their next visit. Their old golden retriever quietly patters into the dining room and puts her heavy, warm head on Eren's knees, wordlessly asking for scraps.  And so, as he scratches Leia behind her fluffy ears and watches his mom and his soulmate discussing apple pies and lemon meringues…

There's a strange feeling that overcomes his body somehow, sweet and wonderful and very, very old – as if the three of them have already been there and done that before; the shared chores and shared dinner, the laughter, the talk, their voices entwined into one, perfect melody. Mom and Mikasa smiling at each other, him between them, like a bridge.

No missing pieces in this puzzle; there's a rightness in this scene that has never been there before.

***

Carla's smiling at them, as she ushers them out of the doors, mischief in her eyes when she says:

„Go, go, take your time together." and the sheer implication rings in her voice so clear that he feels his face turning beetroot red. He quietly wonders how many times he has already blushed tonight and even quieter laments at this count, but Mikasa just laughs.

That's all she's been doing the whole evening, actually. Laughing and beaming, her face transforming with happiness; the apples of her cheeks and the tip of her nose dusted with pink. For a few hours gone was the stoic, poised girl, still a bit unsure how to handle the situation; for a few hours she was dancing around his house from kitchen to dining room, dishes in her arms and smears of chocolate on her chin.

And he's curious about that, but he doesn't really know what question he could possibly ask her to understand.

He grabs her hand instead and they move forward. The pavement is covered by the thin layer of ice and the heels of her shoes glide against it, making a high-pitched sound.

„Your mom is lovely," she says quietly, grabbing onto his arm for better balance. „And your house too. Thank you-" she raises her head to lock eyes with him, the shadow of a smile still remaining on her mouth, " – for taking me to meet her."

He lowers his own head so that he can press a kiss to her forehead; he can't believe she is the one to thank him.

„Honestly, the pleasure's all mine. But I have to admit, I didn't expect you to click together so … well."

Mikasa chuckles, nodding to herself; a hint of her amusement makes its way into his system, light as champagne bubbles.

„You know, when I was a kid, I wanted to be just like her."

He almost trips on his own feet; stumbles and stops for a second as Mikasa steadies his form.

„Wha- what do you mean?"

She shrugs and tries to seem nonchalant, and he might have believed her if not for the way she buries her face in the folds of his scarf and grips his arm a little more forcefully.

"Well. My mom is an academic professor, she was always busy when I was a kid. But on weekends, whenever she had time, we would drive out of the city and she would just spend whole days in the garden. Had the most beautiful sunflowers in all the county. Still does, actually."

The snow is not falling anymore and the street lights shine clear; Mikasa's eyes reflect it even brighter as she stares into the distance, deep down on the memory lane.

"We have this house in the country, kind of a little farm, I guess. I loved it so much then. There was only us and a dozen of chickens and dad would sometimes take me to the river at dawn to try fishing. We would just sit for hours on the pier, not even speaking, just- taking in the view. And my mom would always wait for us with an apple pie ready. She taught me gardening, embroidery, and cooking. All I ever wanted when I was a kid was to be like my mom; to have a little house by the forest, a husband to kiss me when he comes from work and a bunch of kids to run around. To live a long and happy life."

She's looking down at her feet now, stopping speaking abruptly as if she just realized the words that came from her mouth. But he says nothing, just squeezes her hand gently and so she lets out a deep sigh, a little bit embarrassed when she states:

"Your mom is so warm, so big-hearted. This is the kind of woman I've always wanted to be."

Eren studies her form, the grace in her posture even when she is hunched, strands of black hair framing her beautiful face. Mikasa is not a woman she had just described; she is not the sunflower shining for everyone, she is not the summer sun warming all people equally. She will never be loved by everyone or love everyone . But those that she loves, those that she trusts-

He thinks about how she acts around him when there's only two of them and their heartbeats. He thinks how easily she shed her dignified demeanor while she was washing dishes, giggling with his mom.

And he envisions her childhood dream; a log cabin at the edge of the wood, a river humming nearby, picnic table covered in red-and-white checked tablecloth. Mikasa hanging sheets in the backyard, her long braid falling down her back and black-haired, green-eyed children playing hide and seek around her legs.

Coming home to see just that.

Fondness swells in his heart. This is a fantasy that doesn't belong to the world they live in and the one that, at first glance, doesn't particularly suit a woman as independent and put together as Mikasa… but a beautiful, beautiful dream regardless. The picture that he knows he will never manage to abandon.

"Long and happy life, you say?" he hums in appreciation, sending her a dazzling smile and, through their bond, a kiss to her soul, sweet and tender. "I think we can manage that."

***

 The evening slowly turns into the night and as they prepare for bed and lay down under the covers, Mikasa can feel the storm coming.

He's about to say something and she will not like it; she knows this before he even opens up his mouth to speak.

He fiddles with his shirt and tugs gently on her hair, licks his lips, scratches the back of his neck. It's like a low-current running through her body, electricity buzzing in her ears constantly and still, nothing can prepare her for the moment when the shoe drops.

"So, uh, my shift starts tomorrow at 8.00, but I think I can finish off a little earlier, like… 16? And we can grab something to eat then, how about that?"

There's ringing in her ears and her breath catches and she wants to slap herself because, jesus Mikasa, overreacting as hell right now.  He's got work, he has to go to work, nobody, and especially not her uncle will excuse his absence.  But as she turns her face away from him, although she does her very best to get a hold on herself, there's a tremble in her voice.

"Oh. Okay."

I'm about to cry, she realizes, horrified. What's wrong with me?

His arms wrap around her middle and, as he hides her face in her shoulder, she cannot stop the small hiccup of a sob that escapes her lips.

"Mika, hey, Mika. I know- I know, alright?" His hands lock around her." I know, I understand."

Panic is a cold wave that crashes over her, chill runs through his veins, through their bones.

‘'Maybe I'll call and-"

"No, no." She shakes her head, slipping from his arms; distancing herself from him leaves her aching all over but she does it anyway. It's unhealthy, even for soulmates to be so wrapped up in each other, but they got careless, they got too needy. "You should go, we-we can't act like nothing even matters anymore."

His brow furrows and he gulps and she knows which words he swallowed.

(only you matter now, only this.)

She wants to reach out, god knows she does. Wants to take his hands in hers and kiss him; nuzzle her face against his neck, curl inside his ribcage, lock herself in his heart. Let him hold her until she melts into him and they'll never be apart.

But it's not good for them and it's not possible anyway, so she takes a deep breath and says:

"Chinese tomorrow for dinner, what do you think about this idea?"

***

 The morning comes too soon.

She didn't manage to doze off even for a few hours; laid with her eyes closed and breath even, emotions ripping her insides to shreds. She didn't let him hug her and thought that will make her body numb, that if she gets used to not touching him when he is beside her, seeing him leave will be easier.

It's not; it hurts, physically hurts and she digs her fingernails into the flesh of her palms not to reach out to him, roots her feet on the floor not to run after him. He kisses her so gently that it's more like a shadow of a kiss than a real thing; maps her cheekbones with the tips of his fingers and walks backward through the door to look at her as long as he can.

She swallows to get rid of the bitter taste in her mouth and manages a grimace resembling somewhat a smile:

"I'll be here when you come back."

He nods but he doesn't seem to believe her at all.

"Mikasa-"

"Go." –she waves her hand goodbye, praying not to tear up, praying for him to leave before she tears up. "Go, don't be late. Levi-"

"Hates that, I know." He's still standing in the corridor, still looking at her and he's so anxious that it spills over. So she breaks herself a little inside and coaxes her body to cooperate; slows down her heartbeat, lets her hands hang loosely by her side, raises her head higher.

And so he relaxes too; even manages to send her his trademark boyish grin before stealing one more kiss – this one a little more proper, not just a paintbrush stroke- and turns away rapidly, running down the stairs fast as if he was afraid that as soon as he slows down he'll come back running to her.

Oh, she wishes he did. So bad.

 Hours pass so lazily, she's almost afraid that clocks have all stopped working. And she's absolutely restless.

Goes out for a run, hoping to tire herself, but finds herself looking for his face in the crowd of unfamiliar ones. Tries to answer messages that accumulated on her phone and social media during the weekend and realizes that she has no idea what to tell all those people. Writes a short message to her coach to assure her that yes, she'll be back in training on Wednesday. Curls on the armchair for a minute or two only to jump up at the slightest of sounds, as easily spooked as Madeline. Picks up a book just to stare at the same page for half an hour.

By 2 P.M. she's equally anxious, frustrated with herself and dead tired.

So she picks up the phone and does the only thing she can think of.

"Annie? Hi, sorry for radio silence. I had a reason though."

Annie's usual blank voice is somehow less disinterested than normal.

"Better a good one, Ackerman."

Mikasa almost smiles. You have no idea, girl.

***

Eren is pretty much sure that is the worst day of his entire life, but he doesn't really register anything that's happening around him so it might not be true.

His longing takes a form; it's a ball of pain in his chest, covered in thorns and making his lungs and heart bleed whenever he takes a breath . Usually he'd be sulking for being assigned to paperwork for the whole day, but today he thanks, all of the gods he knows for it; there's a white mist obscuring his vision so that even the easiest forms transform into a herculean tasks of bureaucracy, so he's scared to even think how his work in the field would present. It takes so much effort for him not to say fuck it all and run back to Mikasa like a stray dog begging for a little warmth that by lunch he is downright exhausted.

Four-fifths of his new team send him worried glances above their respective meals and the one fifth, his boss, the living legend, the man he admires more than probably anyone else in his life looks so disgusted with his current state that Eren is truly surprised he manages not to spontaneously combust under his burning glare.

All he thinks, all he feels, all he pretty much is is –

Mikasa, Mikasa, Mikasa, Mikasa.

His mind plays tricks on him, plasters her face on any girl that enters the office, forces his eyes to look for her even though the mind knows her location all too well. His knee is constantly twitching, bumping the cheap wood imitation of his desk and making his keyboard jump up and down. He has dark circles underneath his eyes that he's sure weren't there before. She's haunting him and he is, to put it bluntly, a mess.

And yet, he cannot manage to care, not when yet another torturous hour passes and he gets closer and closer to breaking free.

After he glances at the clock for the fifth time in two minutes  and it's still 15:24, Petra – who seemed to gravitate more and more towards his desk as the day progressed- taps his shoulder and asks him, very slowly and kindly, is there any way she could help him, really?

He tears his gaze away from the digital numbers of the clock to look at her; amber eyes are wide open, concern written all over her face.

All that's ringing in his head is that he wishes he could look at another woman.

"I-I don't think so." He mumbles, looking down at his still twitching knee. "Or maybe- Petra, I'm sorry, could I drop out early today? Please?"

The desperation in his voice is so clear that even he grimaces a little. Petra bites her lip and opens her mouth and he just knows she's about to say that she's sorry but-

"Let him go."

Levi is standing back to them, seemingly deeply engrossed into the act of scribbling some notes on the whiteboard, but he is speaking so loudly and clearly that everyone in the office just drops their work for a second, exchanging surprised glances.

Levi is not exactly known for cutting his officers slack.

"Let him go, Rall, he's useless anyway."

Petra gapes at the back of Levi's head, mouth opened as a fish gasping for breath before shaking her head and patting Eren on the back gently.

"Go." She whispers softly and Eren can almost see the ghost of the smile on her lips. "Go, you idiot, before he changes his mind."

He doesn't need to be told twice; he's so happy he could kiss her, but there is another mouth belonging to another girl and waiting for him at  home.

***

  The only thing he does is ring the bell and suddenly she's all over him.

Arms wrapped around his neck, legs wrapped around his waist; she opens the door so violently  that the sound echoes in the empty staircase and jumps into his waiting arms. And he's been running all the way there, driven by the fear that he somehow forgot the way (how could he forget the way, now that he knows it?) and so he's a little than more winded but, honestly, who cares about breathing anymore. 

She kisses him with wild abandon nobody would suspect her of, almost livid in her raw desire. She's a mess of emotions, a tangled pile of electric cords in his hands; she sends nerves live-wiring beneath his skin.

They bump into furniture on the way to the bedroom and some small part of his brain registers it, sighs to itself about bruises that will inevitably bloom on his skin tomorrow. But he's got a handful of her and as he lowers his head down to press his lips to her neck and sucks on her pulse point she straight-up moans; this sound escapes her lips like a dirty secret and he swears he's gonna keep it… after he hears it again and again and again.

He nips on her collarbone, feeling her body shivering against his own, and she tugs on his shirt desperately, pulling him behind her until they both collapse on the mattress. His mouth curls into a smirk as he puts his weight on her, but then she spreads her legs, raises up her hips-

And before he can even notice, he's the one laying pinned underneath her and she's the one hanging above him; her breasts brushing his chest, heavy breaths rocking her body. Mikasa has her cheeks stained pink, there's saliva smeared on her chin and bite marks on her neck; he slowly raises his hand up and loops a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His palms cup her cheek face and her eyelids shut close.

Desire doesn't go away, neither does arousal; but as he looks at her – god. God bless.

It's like everything suddenly glows. There's unexplainable sweetness that didn't use to be there before; the strawberry red summer sun warming him up.

It's like somebody reached out and covered all of his emotions in gold, made them better, more complete. Kissing has never felt like this before. Making out has never felt like this before. He could've as well never touched a girl before.

So new, so fresh, like the air after the storm and still so familiar. She's his first time and the last time; the only one he'll ever want, the one he will never get enough of.

You woke me up, baby.

His other hand sneaks underneath her shirt, trails the line of her spine, caresses her back which arches under his touch.

"Eren." She still has her eyes closed, humming his name like a melody. "Eren."

She nuzzles her cheek against his hand, turns her head a bit for her lips to reach his skin and kiss him.

I adore you. They think simultaneously, think with all of them . I was so lonely without you.

He briefly wonders what it will feel like, to tug her top up and her bra down, to put his mouth on her breasts and make her moan again. To let her pull on his hair as he blows raspberries on her inner thighs. He wants it all so badly, desires her body and her heart and her mind and her soul.

You already have it, she thinks to him and it sounds breathless even in his head.

His hands on her back press her down and she lets him; she leans and lets him kiss the remaining sense out of her until everything spins in front of her eyes and she forgets she's supposed to breathe.

 Her fingers tangle in his hair, pulling on them greedily and moving down and then her nails digging lightly into the nape of his neck-

Red, it’s all red everywhere, that's all he sees. Red, sticky and stinking of metal; the stifling hotness which coats his skin in sweat and makes his eyes water. 

"Eren!" she cries out, her hands reaching for him and he's running, running, blood buzzing in his ears and breath knocked out of his lungs at the fear twisting her features because Mikasa is brave, Mikasa has never been afraid of anything, Mikasa is untouchable, impossible to kill, stronger than all of them combined and yet-

And yet.

"Eren!"

She's so far.

So far away.

Something crunches underneath the soles of his boots, but he doesn't stop to check on whose corpse he stepped on.

Red is oozing from the cuts on her face; it looks as if she was crying blood. And he is stricken with the terrifying familiarity of this scene; of his mother's figure held by the gigantic hand and raised from the earth's surface. The sound of her spine splitting in half. Her blood falling down like a rain.

And him, helpless again.

He sinks his teeth into the palm of his hand again and again, and yet the lightning doesn't strike.  There's no magic this time, no transformation; and there's no spark of impossible in Mikasa either, just a small, broken, tired girl who exhausted herself to the point of almost passing out, her blades shattered, her wings torn from her back.

"Mikasa!"

Their eyes lock and her expression softens; the hand she held outstretched for him falls loose. To his horror, she looks at him with this bashful fondness … and that' when he realizes she has given up.

Her lips move, forming words which he cannot decipher because he's still so fucking, goddamn far away and he's screaming, still screaming for her, when her figure disappears in the gaping, dark hole of the titan's mouth.

[marshmarrowsans]

Merry Christmas and happy new year, @lostsoulwolf​ and @undertalesecretsanta​!  You got us-- a blog run by two mods-- as your Undertale Secret Santa, so guess what?  We made you two gifts! ^-^ Mod Kasha drew this fan art of your CUTE AS HECK OC with Sans, and Mod Cerbie wrote this fanfic about your CUTE AS HECK OC with Sans.  We hope you enjoy them, because we had a lot of fun working on them! Summary: Another year passes by in the underground, and Sans isn’t too enthusiastic about it.  Luckily, Mikaela has a few ideas to get him in the holiday spirit...

A brand new year was arriving. Around this time many people make resolutions to better themselves, or maybe to save up money for a big goal, and still some just wish for a brand new, better start. However, far below the ground of Mt. Ebott, there was a population of decent folk who all just shared one dream every passing year: to finally attain their long awaited freedom from the magical barrier that trapped them down here.  

However that didn't stop the monsters from celebrating and welcoming in the New Year.  It was a way to try to keep up their spirits when all else seemed hopeless and grim. Every year was a hope and a dream that maybe this was the year they would gain their freedom. Of course, that didn't mean individual monsters didn't have other dreams. In fact, a short skeleton monster was dreaming of making do by sleeping at his sentry fort. At this point in his life the New Year's celebration meant very little to Sans-- he made more of an effort during Gyftmas, when he played "Sansta Claus" mainly for his brother's happiness, but it didn't really matter to him whether or not the New Year was greeted with celebration. As far as Sans was concerned, they would always be stuck done here.

As he snored away, a wolf-like monster came over, carrying a bunch of echo flowers in her paws.  Her fur was damp up to her elbows, the sleeves of her jacket rolled up.  She must have reached far into the water to gather them.  That wasn’t surprising, considering that whispering one’s New Year’s resolutions or wishes into an echo flower was a tradition, so they were in high demand at the moment.

“Oh Sans, there you are!” she greeted him, a cheerful lilt to her familiar voice.  Sans snorted in his sleep a bit.  He didn’t lift his head, though he was apparently awake enough to mutter a response.  It wasn’t like he could just ignore his best friend.

“mikaela…  i told you, i’m not into the whole new year celebration thing...”  

“Awwh, come on , lazy bones! There has to be SOME holiday spirit, even in you! You had it in you around Gyftmas.” She leaned over his side-- got right in his face-- and flashed him a toothy grin.  “You already called me Mikaela instead of shortening my name to ‘Kay like you usually do.  So see?  You can put in the effort for my sake, at least.  I mean, that’s a whole extra two syllables.”

He stuck his hand in her face, which would have been extremely rude if it wasn’t the kind of silly roughhousing they engaged in all the time.  “that was different, ‘kay.  i only did that for my brother so he wouldn’t lose his holiday spirit like i did.  it’s hard for me to celebrate the new year when i know it’s just gonna be another year of the same, y’know?”

Mikaela stared at him with her hands on her hips for a long moment.  When that didn’t work, she let out a sad whimper. “Sans, come on….don’t make me bring out the big guns.”

“...  no.  oh no, you wouldn’t.” “I would…”

“don’t you dare.”

“You leave me no choice…”

“nooo…” The short skeleton pleaded with her.  “i said….”

But it was too late.  She whimpered some more, bowed her head just enough that she had to look up at him through her eyelashes, angled her ears back and widened her eyes.  She was hitting Sans-- that poor, defenseless little skeleton man-- with the most powerful and skillful puppy dog eyes he had ever seen.  He practically felt his soul melting in his chest, along with a lot of guilt for denying her the holiday cheer she so desperately wanted to see from him.

“nooo…  you stop that, ‘kay! You’re not gonna change my mind!” Sans insisted. But he was wrong…  oh, he was so wrong. The whimper just got louder, it even turned to a whine for a moment, and her eyes grew even more pitiful.  She looked like she could cry.  Stars, he would never forgive himself if he made her cry.  “ugh…  fine… fine.  i just don’t see the point in--”

“Yesss! “ Just like that, she went back to normal, if not even happier than before.  Her ears perked up and her tail began wagging excitedly.  “As per tradition of the New Year, I brought you some echo flowers!  Seeing as how I knew you wouldn’t go out and pick them yourself.”  She began handing them over before noticing he was scratching his ass. “I wish you would stop that.”

“heh.  bit of a waste of one of your new year wishes, i’nnit?  and besides. there’s nothing there but a tail bone.” Sans chuckled before stretching and leaving his post. “you’re lucky we’re such good friends.  do me a favor, though, and don’t ever teach papyrus that trick.  the one with the eyes.  it’s my only weakness and i’m trusting you with that knowledge,”  he quipped as he took the flowers.

“Can skeletons even make a sad puppy face? Eh, guess you never know with Papyrus.  He can be pretty adorable.” Mikaela shrugged.  “So go on then, make a wish! Anything your soul desires.”

“anything, huh?”  Sans’ voice softened.  He traced the tips of his fingers idly over the glowing petals of the echo flower.  “... i guess…  i dunno.  you probably already know my biggest wish.  it’s the one we’ve all made.  year after year after year.  but it’s never enough.  each year we all make a wish to leave this place, but we’re still here.” Sans sighed, frustrated and downtrodden.  “so what difference does it make if i wish for it again?  just one wish in a sea of identical wishes.  and none of ‘em are being heard.  why would mine be?”

“Well…”  Mikaela tapped her thumbs together thoughtfully.  “Well, it’s less about believing that there’s someone or something out there that’ll actually directly grant your wish, and…  more about setting goals and instilling yourself with a sense of hope, I think.  So…  Yeah.  Even though nobody can answer us, we can still keep wishing and keep hoping.  After all, if we all lose hope then we stop trying, am I right?  And trying is what helps us achieve the things that we wish for!”  She smiled at him reassuringly.  “So never stop trying, Sans.  Even if it’s just a little.  It can make all the difference.”

Sans couldn’t help but blush and rub his neck.  She always made him feel like such a loser and a downer…  in the best way possible, of course.  She made him feel like he wanted to better himself.  “yeah.  i know you’re right.  heh, you must have been talking to my brother.  sounds like something he’d say.  well, i guess some of us have to remain strong enough to hold on to what little hope and happiness we have, but…  it’s been really hard for me lately.”  Sans admitted.  He noticed the worried expression on the she-wolf’s face. “but hey!  don’t let me get you down.  what about you?  what’s your wish?  you know, other than the usual?”

Mikaela sighed and smiled sadly.  “My wish is to help make you happy in whatever way I can, big or small.” She admitted.   Hearing that made his soul feel like it was fluttering in his chest.

“‘kay…  you’re too good for me, y’know that?”

She acknowledged his somewhat self-deprecating comment with a slight shake of her head, then continued.  “Isn’t there some other wish you have? Other than the usual?”

Sans shuffled his feet, as if thinking about if he really wanted to tell her. He was so used to being closed-off and secretive, after all.  He never talked about his own problems, his own feelings.  He just supported other people through theirs.  But as had been the case for many months, they were really good friends, so what the hell?  If he had to tell anyone, he’d rather it be her than anyone else.  He gave in.

“well…  there is this one little thing.  i’ve always, y’know, stared at the sparkling rocks in waterfall, but they’re not the same.  my wish is to see the stars.  the real stars, out there, so far away you can hardly comprehend it.  and the moon too.  but that’s not going to happen.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the ground, but not too quickly to see Mikaela’s face light up with a smile. “Is that so?  Well, Sansy, I may have just the thing. Come on-- I have something to show you!” She latched on to his hand and began tugging him in the direction of Waterfall.

“the thing just for me?” He repeated. “did you catch a bunch of stars? that’d be a paw-some feat.” He chuckled.

“Well you’ll never find out if you don’t move that tail bone of yours!” Mikaela let out.  That finally got Sans to follow her of his own free will.  Appealing to his sense of curiosity never failed.

“fine. but i’m pretty sure it ain’t nothing i haven’t seen before. “ Sans insisted.

“Oh, trust me. I think you’re going to love this! I discovered this ‘paw-some’ thing a few days ago! I couldn’t believe it when I saw it, but…  well, you’ll see.” She promised.

Sans shrugged, letting her pull him along without a fight. He was pretty sure he had seen just about everything there was so see down here…  except, apparently, for a crevice that led into a small cavern.  It was hard to see in the darkness, away from the lanterns and the glowing flowers.  And besides that, the opening had been blocked by a patch of overgrown marsh grass and could easily be missed. “...  okay, i stand corrected.  i guess i haven’t seen everything down here after all.”

“And that’s just the entrance!” Mikaela noted as she continued pulling him along. “I noticed a nice smell coming from inside.  Something I’ve never smelled before in the underground.”

She continued pulling Sans along and around a corner next to the ice cube carrying river, and then she finally stopped. The area didn’t look like much-- just another dark blue rocky walled cave-- until, that was, Sans noticed a tiny bit of light leaking from above.  He glanced up and his pupils widened at the wondrous sight that awaited him overhead.

Way up on this part of the underground, the ceiling had an opening just wide enough to let in a ray of true moonlight and a glimpse of the actual stars themselves.

“Well….what you think??” Mikaela asked.  Her tail made little scuffing noises against the ground as it wagged in anticipation.

Sans remained quiet, staring up at something he never thought he’d see in his lifetime. To him, it was like finding a treasure chest. Suddenly his broken smile didn’t seem so broken.  In fact, it seemed genuine.  If for only a little while, it was a true smile. “...  damn, ‘kay.” He finally let out after a long stretch of silence.  “wow.  i…  i don’t know what to say.  this is amazing.  heh.  i guess… some wishes can come true.”

Her tail began frantically wagging as her toothy grin returned. “Didn’t I tell you?  Isn’t this place magical? Ha, and I guess that means two of our wishes came true! I was able to make you happy again.”

“you’re right about that.  this is a better start to the new year than i could have ever predicted.” Sans smiled back at her. “y’know, i think maybe i can hold on to some hope after all.”

“Make that three wishes coming true, then.  Papyrus’ wish was you finding renewed hope,” Mikaela told him. “Three wishes come true.  Can’t beat that.”

“or maybe you can.”  Mikaela knew that tone.  It was the tone of a man who just had a brilliant, brilliant idea.  “you know…  i’ve heard of a new year’s tradition the humans have up there.  and i know we aren’t exactly buddy-buddy with humans on a lot of matters.  but i think they’ve actually got a pretty good idea here.”

His friend was intrigued, her ears perked up in curiosity.  “Ooh?  And what tradition might that be?”

Sans turned to her and pulled his hands from his pockets. “here, let me borrow this.”  He took one of the glowing echo flowers from her paws and turned away. Quietly he stared at the flower for awhile, as if making his wish in silence, before letting out a big sigh and as loudly as he could, he proclaimed, “i wish for a kiss from my best friend at midnight!  y’know, as per human tradition.”  He shot her a wink…  although it was the most nervous wink of his life.  He felt like his soul was going to explode in those moments awaiting her response.

   “...  Your best friend?” Mikaela didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but they did constantly say that they were each other’s best friends.  

“oh, yeah.  she’s a real gem.  about yea high--” he stretched up and placed the palm of his hand directly on top of her head-- “long hair.  super pretty.  like can’t-take-your-eyes-off-her pretty.  most convincing puppy dog face in the world.  great sense of humor, and, ah…  honestly, she could cheer up a guy who’s so far down in the dumps he’s practically in the bottomless pit below it.  can’t miss her.”

Mikaela’s soul began to pound in her chest.  She knew it.  She knew she hadn’t been imagining something more going on between them.  His lingering touches on her arm whenever they were around each other, the abundance of hugs he liked to give her, the occasional joke that just crossed the line into the realm of the flirtatious… “Well…  If you’re sure, then…  Hell yeah.  Let’s make it four wishes come true, then.”  She was quick to pick him right up off the ground and give him a big kiss, before either of them lost the courage to do so.  He was ready for it, and he held on tight.  Though he couldn’t kiss back without lips, he nuzzled his teeth against her in a way that conveyed the same effect.

They only pulled away from each other when Sans began to laugh against her lips, his soul glowing like a miniature star of their own.  “damn, ‘kay! you really went for it.  you must have been waiting for that almost as long as i was.  there’s just one problem.  uh…”  He scratched the back of his skull. “it’s not midnight yet.”

“Oh dear.  I….  I’m sorry about that.” Mikaela apologized and sat him back down on his own two feet.  Her ears folded back a little and she blushed with embarrassment. “I guess I got a little carried away in the heat of the moment.”

“ ‘eh...but who’s countin’?” Sans shrugged. “you can just give me another one when the time comes.  And another one after that…  some more after that…”  He put his hands on her waist to pull her a little closer, earning a bashful giggle.

“Alright, well don’t get carried away,” she teased him.  “I won’t keep kissing you if you fall asleep on me.”

“dude.  my entire life isn’t about sleeping.  and besides.  humans also have this saying about kisses.  i dunno what they mean by it, but it’s perfect.  y’know what they say?”  He leaned in a little, got up on the tips of his toes, and said it to her in a quiet voice, like a secret: “every kiss begins with ‘kay.”

“...  That joke sucked, Sans.” “i love you too.”

[shaoclark]

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