#this is the only au i can adequately write apparently

[miamochi-writes]

Shake It Off

Modern!Vash x Reader

A/n: Not a request, but I’ve been wanting to write more AUs and Modern Trigun posts. This is my take on what Vash would do as a boyfriend if the reader had a bad day. I definitely wanted to dedicate this one to @whirlwindimagines​ Hope you like it Whirl! <3

It was another typical day of working in the office. Clock in, say hi to your coworkers, hype yourself up with coffee, do your tasks, snack break, and just survive at the end of the day. That was until you had an angry client bursting through the door.

“You! I want to speak to your manager right now!” she demanded as you took a deep breath. So much for a normal day. You mentally prepared yourself with what this person was going to throw at you. Clearing your throat, you prepped your customer service voice before engaging with the client.

“Hi, I’m sorry what seems to be the problem?” you asked. Sure enough, the lady was complaining about the service she received. She specifically wanted a refund because the service she got ‘did not meet her standards.’ Apparently she was not happy because she wasn’t seen exactly at 9:00 even though she was seen at 9:02. Furthermore, she felt lied to because the service promised it would be the best she received and that it was adequate at best. So if she had a problem then she would make it everyone’s problem.

“Ma’am I’m sorry to hear about that, but I can’t give you a refund. Our policy states that we can only give a refund if you cancelled your appointment or if we didn’t cover the full service. Which our records show we did give you the full hour,” you explained. 

“How dare you talk back to me! Do you know who I am?! I demand that you give me a refund! Where is your manager so I can report you!” she yelled as you just took the brunt of the verbal accusations.

“Ma’am, I don’t make the rules. I just work here, and our manager is currently traveling right now so it might take awhile for them to get a hold of them or even hear back from them,” you tried explaining. But this just made her yell even more about how you were incompetent to work here. You didn’t ask for this, and wondered why you haven’t bothered to turn in your two weeks notice.

Then out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar tall ray of sunshine with blonde hair that you can recognize from a mile away. Vash was passing by your area and saw what was happening. He noticed the scene unfolding and how uncomfortable you were growing with each passing second. Then he started mimicking the lady with the most absurd facial expressions. His mouth moved almost the exact same time as hers while he placed his hands on his hips like she was. If she yelled, he made it twice as funny with him being over the top with his actions. You had to hold back from laughing or even cracking a smile as you pursed your lips as hard as you could.

“HEY! Are you even listening to me?!” the lady snapped at you as she brought your attention back to her. Before you could react, Vash knocked at your door.

“Hi there! What seems to be the problem?” he asked. As the lady proceeded to tell him everything she told you, Vash offered her to follow him as he would handle things. Somehow, Vash just knew how to handle and deescalate these kinds of situations with his can-do personality. As he took the lady away from you while she was talking his ear off, Vash flashed you a wink and a smile before leaving. That was when you remembered, the only reason you hadn’t left this job was because of Vash, your boyfriend. 

You had been going out for more than half a year now. Despite being in different departments, you managed to find time together. Eventually, you fell for his natural charms, while he fell harder the more he got to know more about you. The both of you practically shared many things in common. He liked how you treated him normally unlike other people when they saw his prosthetic arm. Plus, you were always patient with him no matter what he threw at you and kept your promises which he absolutely adores.

Even though work could be rough, you tended to do small gestures for your coworkers and him. Whether it would be cheering them up through sharing memes, getting them a snack, or write down small appreciative notes the action never went unnoticed. At least with Vash. So whenever you were having a hellish day or struggling to keep up, he was always there to support you in any way possible.

Later on that day, you were coming back from a meeting that definitely could have been summed up in an email. Once you came back to your work space, you noticed a tall pink drink in a plastic cup and a note attached to it. Upon closer inspection, the note read:

“May your day be as sweet as this strawberry smoothie. I love you! x - Your favorite bf in the entire world”

A smile made its way to your face after reading the note Vash left you. He always knew how to cheer you up. Plus, you noticed he went out of his way to get you your favorite drink from your favorite place. Just the way you liked it. How did you get lucky to have Vash in your life? you questioned as you took a sip from your drink before going back to work.

~*~

Once work was over, Vash was eagerly waiting for you at his car as he waved at you. You gave him a tired smile as you got into the passenger seat.

“So how was your day today?” he asked with his pearly whites.

“Could be better. I’m just ready for today to be over,” you sighed as you rubbed your temple of your head. More work piled up throughout the day and a few more people came to give you a piece of their mind several times. But you reassured Vash that you appreciated the things he did for you today.

“Aw I’m sorry to hear Y/n. I hope things get better tomorrow. But at least you get to be with me now!” he reassured you as he planted a sweet and tender kiss on your cheek. 

“Thanks Vash, you’re the best,” you said while smiling at him. You felt anytime Vash showed his affection towards you, all your problems slowly melted away.

“Plus now that we’re here, I think this calls for a little pick-me-up,” he suggested as he pulled out his phone and started playing the one song you figured he would pick from your shared playlist.

I stay out too late~

Got nothing in my brain~

You loved how you got him into Taylor Swift, but the both of you knew that this particular song is banned from playing in the car. Vash would constantly overplay that song whenever he had the chance (especially when you spent the night at his place and caught him playing this at 5am in the morning). But after the day you had today, you figured this would be an exception as you started bopping your head to the upbeat tune. Once Vash noticed you didn’t make the effort to skip or the stop the song, he beamed at his small victory.

He backed out from the parking lot as he put his arm behind your seat. As he drove you back home, he would start dancing along to the song while singing the lyrics. He wasn’t a bad dancer at all, and his upbeat attitude was infectious. He would do a little shimmy and get you to sway with him whenever he stopped at a red light. You joined in on the fun as you both sang and danced along to the song. You were smiling ear to ear knowing that Vash did everything in his power to make sure your day ended on a high note.

Once you arrived at your apartment, Vash suggested ordering takeout from your favorite restaurant. He wanted to treat you which you didn’t deny. While he did that, you changed into your most comfortable clothes and decided to put on your favorite show. Once Vash came back from picking up the food, he took his seat next to you on the couch. Before he could hand you over your food, he put his face close to yours and flashed you a playful smirk.

“Before you get this food, you need to answer these questions correctly,” he piped up as you laughed knowing where this was going.

“Who’s your favorite?” he asked.

“You,” you answered as he gave you a peck on the lips.

“Correct! Now who’s my favorite?” he asked once more.

“Me,” you said matter-of-factly. Once again he gave you another kiss, but this time you made it a bit longer as you pulled him closer to you. He loved it when you did this and smiled into the kiss.

“Correct again! As a reward, your food and cuddles,” he answered as he handed you your meal. The both of you started eating your food while watching the show. Once you finished eating, Vash hugged you close to his side as you rested your head on the crook of his neck.

No matter what the day threw at you, Vash knew how to take care of you and put a smile on your face at the end of the day. Whether it be getting you to crack a smile, laugh until your sides hurt, or shower you with kisses, Vash will make it known just how much he loves and appreciates you. Just like how he started the day, he ended the night with giving you a soft and warm-hearted kiss.

[walkawaytall]

sometimes when you're supposed to be finishing the multichapter you've been working on for a year and a half and you are just so close you can practically taste it, you end up writing the prologue for an Organa Twins AU that's probably not going anywhere?

(But also might be something because I've already thought of how I want Luke, Han, and Chewie rescuing Leia from the Death Star to go down in this AU and it's real fun.)

“Pregnant, she must still appear. Hidden, safe, the children must be kept.”

“We must take them somewhere the Sith will not sense their presence.”

“My wife and I will take the babies. We've always talked of adopting. They will be loved with us.”

*****

When it came to disappearing entirely, Tatooine was as good a place as any. Ben Kenobi harbored no particular fondness for the planet, but it offered the sort of anonymity that was difficult to come by closer to the Core, and being in Hutt Space guaranteed some separation from Imperial officials.

Tatooine was also where it had all gone wrong and, as such, was the only place Ben could hope to find answers regarding how to prevent such a tragedy from occurring again.

He was running out of time, though he had felt that way for nearly two decades. Two decades spent under the torturous heat of twin suns, searching for a why or a how. Two decades befriending his nearest neighbors in hopes that he would discover something that made what he knew make sense, that he might hear a story or a description preceded by Shmi said he always… that would cause everything to fit together.

Two decades paying penance for every move he had made that culminated in Anakin’s fall to the Dark Side.

It shouldn’t have taken two decades. He was supposed to have moved on, was supposed to have started training the children on some other backwater planet where they were unlikely to be discovered. In fact, Bail Organa had contacted him nearly ten years prior to inform him that, after months of careful observation, he and his wife, Breha, had determined that their daughter, Leia, was exceptionally good at keeping secrets — “not just good for a ten-year-old; good by any metric.” Leia’s twin, Luke, was…improving in that area, and should be adequately trained by the time the school term ended. They were preparing the children for a change in scenery for their instruction. What month did he think was best to begin?

That month certainly hadn’t been a good one, nor was the next. Ben still hadn’t determined what exact course of events had caused Anakin’s fall. He didn’t know if there was something genetically malevolent about the Skywalker line or if Anakin’s surroundings had played a significant part in his embracing of the Dark Side. If he didn’t know what caused it, how could he possibly prevent it from happening to another Padawan? How could he prevent Luke and Leia from turning?

Really, the entire year had ended up being bad timing, as had the next and the next. When Bail contacted him mere days after the twins’ fifteenth birthday, Ben had been fairly certain he would be ready the next time his old friend commed.

But he didn’t comm.

Ben didn’t pay much mind to the silence. He assumed Bail or Breha would get in touch again if they truly thought the children ready, and by then, Ben would be ready, too.

The next time he saw Bail’s face wasn’t through direct contact, but via a galactic news report being shown in a local cantina. The viceroy was announcing the date of his retirement from the Galactic Senate. He confirmed that, after an apparent landslide victory in an election on Alderaan, the pale young woman with big, brown eyes standing next to him would take his place.

Ben could hardly look at her for more than a few seconds before focusing his attention back on Bail. She looked like her mother.

He wondered how Bail could manage having the living, breathing reminder of the loss of Padme stare across the breakfast table at him every day. He could barely stand the mere memory of her ultimate fate. He still had dreams about her sixteen years after she’d breathed her final breaths, dreams in which she lived, dreams in which she died in a variety of ways, dreams in which she joined Anakin as he had wanted her to.

Leia spoke calmly and clearly, with fire simmering just under the surface of every word that reminded him simultaneously of all of her parents, both biological and adopted. Breha and Bail had clearly trained her to communicate well, though she possessed her own sort of easy charm and wry wit that Ben had no doubt had endeared her to the public.

He wondered about the boy, wondered what Luke was up to while his sister shackled herself to the impossible ideal of equitable politics. Bail had mentioned something about him learning to fly larger ships the last time they had spoken, and Ben had briefly wondered if the children were involved in the insurgent activity that he knew Bail continued to engage in.

Surely not. Bail and Breha were devoted to their causes, but they had always been protective of their children. They wouldn’t allow such young people to involve themselves in something as dangerous as the rebellion.

In the more than three years that had passed since Bail’s retirement announcement, Ben had hardly had to wonder what the twins were doing at any given moment. Leia was the darling of the Senate as far as the general populace was concerned, and it was no wonder: she spoke up for the poor and needy, raised the issue of abolishing slavery of all sentient species galaxy-wide as often as she was allowed, and routinely seemed to represent the interests not just of Alderaanians, but of any being who had struggled under the crushing hand of the Empire. They would never say so publicly, but Ben couldn’t imagine a galaxy in which at least two-thirds of her fellow senators didn’t despise her.

Luke’s presence was less obvious, but Ben gathered that the boy was acting as extra security when his sister traveled on her many diplomatic missions. Her transport was sometimes shown taking off or landing on one planet or another, and it was always flanked by a minimum of two X-wing starfighters. Luke appeared to be flying one of them every time Ben saw a report of Leia traveling.

They seemed to be doing well despite their lack of training. As a senator, Leia had no doubt met both Palpatine and Vader, and yet it seemed as if they were none the wiser. She was shielding her Force-sensitivity somehow, and since Luke appeared to be with her most of the time, Ben had to assume he was as well. They were better off without being trained by him, without ever knowing of their familial baggage.

He assumed he wouldn’t hear from the Organas again.

As spring slipped into summer on Tatooine, many locals shifted their habits to align with the evening hours. The days were barely tolerable during less-extreme seasons, but they were unbearable during the summer. Ben took to sleeping during daylight hours, the same way his neighbors did.

He was surprised to be woken by frantic knocking on his door a mere hour before midday. Ben squinted at his chrono a moment longer than usual to make sure he was reading the time correctly. He tried to ignore the knocking, but it only increased in volume and speed.

Something must be wrong, he thought as he hauled his aging body out of bed. Why anyone would come to him for help was beyond him, but he could at least see what they needed.

He swung the door to his small dwelling open and was immediately blinded by the midday suns. His vision took seconds to adjust, and he squinted at the person standing outside his home.

Blue eyes set beneath a mop of sandy hair met his. The young man was sunburned and covered in sand. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse.

“Uncle Ben?”

[spyroid101]

Hortus Infernal: “She loved me, once...”

...So one day I apparently got the rabid need to write some Angst & Hurt/Comfort, and my brain decided “Today, you’re making this Jestdeer cry on BOTH sides of their face!”

Sooo...Here ya go, spontaneous stream of consciousness Hortus Infernal Banban AU oneshot... that just might end up just COMPLETELY non AU canon by the time Banban 4 actually comes out and we see these characters in action. Who knows?! I’m just rolling with what makes the brain go brrr~

Warnings for abuse and injuries. 

Nothing too detailed, but... they’re there, so take care.

"Ss-so you... escaped..." The Jester rasped. "I'mmm not... s-surprised... You're... much too clever for her... Much too..."

You felt a cold knot coil in your stomach at how the room was splattered in the black ichor you'd long come to know made up these demon's blood...

All coming from that... that damn Jester, that had been the biggest, most annoying pain in your ass for the past who knows HOW long. Their once intimidating seven foot tall stance now looking so incredibly small, all crumpled pathetically in the corner of the room.

"I know... You can laugh, if it makes you feel better..." They kept an eye locked on you, only displaying the forever smiling right side of their face, but the true tone of their voice was clearly the whimpering tones of the left side, that they seemed desperate to try and hide against the wall. "...Unless I'm... not even fit enough to be used for malice..."

"What...?" You finally manage to find your voice. "What happened...?"

This- this didn't feel like something Toadster would have done, at least, that wasn't the impression you'd gotten from the short time you'd known him.

One of the other demons you'd just released from containment, maybe? As revenge for helping the Queen in getting them locked up? Was Banbaleena on a bloody rampage, or either of the Nabs? Hell, maybe even Tarta-?

"She wasn't... In the explaining mood..." The Jester's voice cut through your thoughts. "But seeing as... you're here right now... I have to assume, I'm just a failure, as usual..."

"...'She'...?" The light bulbs were starting to flicker on in your head, and you wished you could just rip them out of the sockets and smash them against the floor.

Bouncelia? She- she did this, to her own-?

"Why...are you here...?" Their voice sounded shaky, like they were afraid of the answer you'd give.

"I'm- I-" You desperately tried to get your now even more frantic thoughts back in line. "She still has Castor. I- I need to go back and-"

"Right...The Stolas... Of course..." The Jester's voice quavered, but quickly, they forced the more upbeat voice of their right side to take over. "W-well, as I assume you-you're in a hurry, you're in l-l-luck!"

Slowly, shakily, as if they really, really didn't want to, they stretched out their feathered wing.

"Th-the self healing's almost done h-here, ss-s-so..." Their trembling got worse, as they further pressed their left side into hiding. "With...it out of commission, my mobility will be decreased... a-a good... forty-eight percent! More than adequate!"

"Wh-?"

"A n-new break will... will take a good... few hours to re-mend..." They took a steadying breath. "If I... might be so bold to request: just a single... quick, clean break at the elbow joint? It'll still do the job-"

"NO!" You exclaimed in horror, that knot in your stomach now tossing and turning, as if it were trying to claw up out of your insides.

"...Fair. I am not... in any position to make demands, after all..." They mumbled, sounding defeated as they finally dropped their gaze from you. "G-go on, then... However you wish-"

Whatever else was said, it was lost as you suddenly turned heel and sprinted out of the room.

God DAMN it, it had to be some kind of trick! A trap! It just- HAD to-

And yet, feeling as if you were on autopilot, you found yourself snatching up any loose tarp and cloth you laid your eyes on, even managing to rip down one of the Queen Bouncelia banners, before returning to the room.

They only gave you a momentary glace, before averting it again.

"...I won't retaliate, you needn't bother with restraints-"

"That's not-!" Your gut clenched as your raised voice caused them to flinch. "...I'm not looking to hurt you..."

"Then just what... are... you doing?"

A part of you... was asking that yourself.

All the same, you found yourself kneeling beside the Jester, one of the cloths bundled up in your hand. Slowly, steadily, you pressed it up against one of the still seeping gashes on their side.

"Oh, shi- did I just make it worse?" You asked as their body tensed.

"I- No?" They said, voice full of weary confusion. "I-If you're trying to-"

"I'm not." You restated, firmly.

"...No." They finally repeated after a pause, once again going slack. "Just... reflex."

You nodded, and went about securing the cloth in place.

"You know these will eventually heal on their own..." They mumbled. "You're wasting your time..."

"No, I'm not." You said, grabbing another cloth. "Now, let me see your-"

"If you don't plan on running on ahead without that Stolas, you are." They reiterated, a soft growl to their voice. "Human, if you give her time to get her plan of attack back in order-"

"Your face." You interrupted. You couldn't stomach getting talked out of this now, you just- you couldn't. "Let me see your face."

"...It's right here." They stated flatly, widening their sharp toothy Cheshire grin.

Good. The damn deer being a pain in the ass was more familiar territory to you.

"Funny. Really." You rolled your eyes. "I mean your whole face, c'mon..."

You reached out, touching your fingertips to their chin, gently coaxing them to turn their head.

They hesitated for a moment, before relenting, finally letting the left side of their face be seen.

The left side's eternal frown was twisted into a pained grimace, black blood leaking down from the lips, as well as their nostril. Their eye was practically swollen shut, what little bit of the sclera you could see blackened by being bloodshot, as tears streamed down their face.

"God..." You couldn't help but breathe.

"Not like it was ever my good side." They teased. Or, at least seemed to try to. Their heart wasn't in it.

You swallowed thickly, urging yourself to stop gawking and keep moving as you softly pressed the cloth against the left side of their face, slowly and gently wiping away the blood and tears.

You paused, as they let out a sigh, and leaned their head into the touch, before going still.

For a moment, you began to worry they'd just blacked out, when you suddenly noticed the pinpricks of tears now also starting to from in their right eye.

"...She loved me, once, you know..." They whispered. "Whenever she smiles, I remember that... But I suppose after several lifetimes, the humor starts to fail..."

You felt yourself start to shake. From sorrow or anger, you weren't completely sure...

For damn sure, you were feeling BOTH.

"That... That doesn't excuse... this..." You managed to speak past the lump forming in your throat. "Nothing... Excuses this..."

"...No, I suppose it doesn't..."

A few more seconds of silence pass, until you feel their hand nudge yours. Taking the cue, you allow them to take hold of the cloth, so they could take control of cleaning their own face.

"If you were just... doing this in order to try and acquire an ally... I'm sorry to disappoint you..." Their eyes avert yours. "The pact that was made... The part of me she holds in her possession... It's a strong one. When she calls, I have no choice but to answer-"

"It's fine, don't worry about it." You answer, firmly.

"Then... even though I won't lie, and it will only waste your time, and sabotage your efforts..." They pause, as if struggling to truly decide if they should continue. "If I might request... Sit beside me... just... for a bit longer-"

"Of course."

You don't even need to give it a second thought, and quite frankly... you could use the rest yourself, as well.

As you gingerly sat down besides them, you briefly wondered how close they exactly wanted to to sit-

"Woah-!"

-When that was pretty much answered for you, as they leaned over, completely resting their head atop of yours.

"I'm... very tired, human..." They mumbled.

"Yeah, I- I can tell..." You squirm a bit, attempting to make the position at least a little more comfortable for you. "So, uh... Since we're apparently getting rather... close, I suppose I should ask... You got a name?"

"Of course."

You wait, expecting them to elaborate...

...They do not.

"Uhhm... Gonna... let me know what it is...?"

"Ahh, you meant a name here... In which case, not really, no."

...And they fall silent again.

"You're, uh... Going to have to elaborate." You raised an eyebrow. "Like, I should know what I could call you... besides 'Stupid Deer', and all..."

"A true name." They give a little raspy snort of laughter. "We all have true names. True names have power, and no Demon is stupid enough to give them to the Summoners. So, they decide what they wish us to be called during our contract... Or, did you actually think a denizen of Hell reigned terror under a name like 'Banban'?"

You're glad their position doesn't allow them to see the flush that flashes across your face, because... yeah, you maybe... kinda...

Absolutely did...

All the same, your lack of answer seems to give all the answer they need, as they let out a few more chuckles.

"Either way..." They continued. "They'd only summoned her, and my pact is what dragged me along. They had plans for her, and not me, but still I was there. So they just... labeled me as her Jester, and left it at that..."

"I see..." You mumbled. "Guess that... doesn't really help me figure out what to call you, though, huh?"

The only reply they give is a soft hum. ...

...Okay, the weight leaning against you was really starting to become an issue.

You squirm and try to find some way to properly brace yourself, without either toppling over completely, or pushing on any of their wounds. Your efforts seemed to go unnoticed, as the Jester neither made comment, nor moved to try and assist you.

You eventually give up, resorting to try and, politely, push on their chest in hopes that they'll back off just a bit-

...When you noticed... something... missing...

It took you a moment to really pinpoint it, but the complete, cold, stillness under your hand...

...There was no heartbeat.

While you wouldn't be shocked if some of these creatures could still function without a heart, every one you'd had extensive contact with so far had possessed a heartbeat!

Castor, all the Fiddles flying around, Tarta, even Nabnaleena-!

'The part of me she holds in her possession...'

It's at that moment , your memory draws back to Queen Bouncelia, and the staff she'd held, the way you were able to hear a pulsing coming from within the ordainment at the top...

"Your heart..." You spoke your thoughts aloud. "She... has your heart, doesn't she?"

"...A powerful pact, indeed..." They finally spoke again. "One I made in a lifetime when I was young, mortal, stupid...In love ... That has stretched on in every single lifetime since, and will continue, even after this is over, however the outcome..."

You silently mull over their words, allowing them to sink in...

...And fuel your resolve.

"No, it won't." You state, firmly. "I came here to get my child back, yes... But I don't plan on just leaving you all here like this, either. I'm... I'm going to help. Castor, Seline-"

'Banban?'

Your voice falters on the name... Honestly, you're still not sure how trustworthy he truly is...

...But that was going to be a mental dilemma you were going to have to sort out another time. For now, you just knew none of them deserved to have this fate.

"-I'm going to figure out how to get you all home, so... that means I'm going to help YOU as well, pact and all..." You pause. "...Somehow."

The Jester finally stops leaning on you, pulling back to be able to see your face, forms of a quizzical expression managing to come across both sides of theirs.

"You are...endlessly perplexing, human..." They chuffed. "I hope you don't find me not holding my breath rude... but the thought is a warm one, all the same."

"I mean it!"

"I know you do..." They turned their head once again to hide away the left side of their face, to be sure you clearly got the smile. "And... for whatever I may be forced to do next... Just know there isn't any malice in the actions I take."

You nod in understanding, and the Jester seems satisfied with that as an answer.

They then proceeded to move to stand up. You almost find yourself protesting, seeing their legs shake like a newborn fawn's, but its only a few moments before before they get it under control, and stand back up at their full, towering, seven foot height.

Seems they were right, the wounds healed up on their own... but you still hoped you'd helped make the experience at least... a little more comfortable to put up with...

"Now, then..." They said, reaching a hand down in an offer to help you up as well. "I've already taken up quite a bit of your busy schedule, and you've got quite a few beings depending on you."

You accept the hand, and stifle a gasp at just how effortlessly they manage to hull you up to your feet, singled handed. You're reminded, once again, just how strong these creatures are...

...And try your best not to think too hard about how strong Bouncelia must be in comparison, in order to be able beat the Furfur down to their earlier, frightened, broken state...

"...Actually, one thing before you go..."

Suddenly, the Jester used their grip on your hand to pull you in, super close, leaning their head down, you felt their cold nose touch your ear and-!

A... whis...per...?

A single word was spoken. To you, and you alone. You knew it was a word, but at the same time, it was like sand, your brain struggling to grasp and make sense of what exactly it was, sending shocking flashes of hot and cold through your spine, every time you came close.

...No, no. It wasn't just a word.

It was a name!

"J-Ja-" You attempt once again to enunciate what you just heard, only to be shushed by a finger pressed to your lips.

"Hey, don't go just spreading that around now, okay?" You nod, still unable to get your brain to form other words, and the Jester frees your lips again. "...It's not more powerful than my pact, it won't be able to save you from me there... but, if you're still insistent on going back to the Kingdom for your Stolas, and on the... slim chance should you somehow survive and make it further down... and the need truly arises..."

"I'll call..." You say, finally starting to get your words back.

They give your hand a small squeeze in acknowledgement, before finally letting go.

"Now, I do believe you have a little Stolas to rescue~" They said in a singsong voice, preforming a little bow. "Best of luck to you, human~"

"You, too." You say, before turning to book it out of the room.

Your task list had just grown quite a bit more complicated, now having to add "Figure out how to break an ancient pact" to the pile...

...But if being a single parent for four years hadn't stopped you from dealing with an ever growing laundry list of disasters before, this new development certainly was not going to be the thing that finally broke your streak!

[wildlife4life]

Fuck-it Friday

Tagged by: @ebdaydreamer

So this is not a new fic to me because I've been working on it for a bit, but its new to you all. Its the first fic where I've ventured into the A/B/O universe. It is also a season 2 AU after Doug comes back and attacks Chim and tries to take Maddie, but doesn't succeed. Instead Doug gets away, and Maddie and Buck run from L.A. Shannon lives bitches! But the biggest part of this story is Buck finding out he's pregnant while on the run. Surprise! We can all guess who the father is. Anyway, below is the letter that Buck sends to Eddie. But does he receive it???????

Eddie,

I am so sorry that you have to find out this way, but Maddie and I have had to toss our phones twice because of Doug. But I had to tell you.  Let me start by saying, we are safe.  I wish I could say where but you of all people know I can’t. I really thought we would be home by now, so I could tell you this in person.  But Doug is relentless and apparently has higher connections than we originally thought. So again, I’m sorry and I never intended for any of this to happen.

I’m pregnant Eddie and its yours. Maybe it’s hard to believe. I’m still having trouble believing it. But those days we spent together in November…well life came to be.

It took some thinking and a very long, eye-opening lecture from Maddie, but I know how it all happened. I wasn’t lying back then when I told you I was on birth control.  What I didn’t mention was the fact that I had started it just a few days prior to my heat. Maddie believes it may have triggered it.  We’re not entirely sure. What I did learn is that the birth control I was on is adequate at best for male omegas and the only time we can get pregnant is during a heat. My previous doctor is getting an earful when I get back. That isn’t me saying I don’t want our baby, I do.

This probably the worst time to even be pregnant, but I am so happy and excited. I’m also so so scared. I wish I was with you and the rest of the 118.  I wish Maddie and I could come home.  I really wish that dog had ripped Doug’s throat out instead of a chunk of his leg. I wish for a lot of things. But my biggest wish, is that you could be here for everything involving the pregnancy. Check-ups, ultrasounds, the little flutters of movement, hell even the vomiting (why is it called morning sickness when it happens ALL DAY). I know how much you regret missing everything with Shannon and Christopher, and I feel awful that I’m putting you through that all over again. But until Doug is no longer a threat, I must stay away to keep our baby safe. Until then Maddie and I are recording everything. I’ll try to send more later, but its risky. I’m sure you’ve already heard; Athena believes Doug’s joined up with an Alpha group that believes in harsh traditionalism and are helping him track us down.  Which includes watching our friends and family for any clue of where we are.  Hide or burn this letter.  Hide the ultra-sound and don’t say a word to anyone until we return. I’ll try to write more and send what I can.

Eddie, I am so sorry. I really am.  And I’m not expecting anything from you, but I know you want to be a part of this baby’s life.  You are the most amazing father.  Christopher is going to be the best big brother.  Maybe you wish that this child was between you and Shannon again.  I kind of wish that too…

Our baby is completely healthy, and I’ll keep doing my very best to insure they stay that way.  It’s the least I can do considering the situation. I hope everyone is doing good.  Maddie and I miss you all every day.  We really hope Doug is caught soon and we can come home. And we will come back, I really believe that. I hope you and everyone else does too.

Stay safe, give Christopher a hug for me, and again I’m so sorry.

Buck

What do you think? I'm actually kind of excited for this because have I got some twists and turns and angst and big man little baby!

Tagging (not to be pushy!): @911onabc @alyxmastershipper@elvensorceress@bekkachaos

[juniperhillpatient]

How’s it going @juniperhillpatient ?

I forgot to mention before, but the incident with Azula effecting Bumi’s hearing aid with bat sounds reminded me of my childhood.

I probably mentioned this before, but on the chance I didn’t I’ll reiterate. I have (from birth) unilateral hearing loss. Profound deafness in my right ear. Back when I was in elementary school, I was outfitted with an FM system. For the first few years, I had the normal difficulties of the FM system. Background noise, the tedium of lugging the microphone to each class and to each teacher. That sort of thing. While not everyone has the same experience, for me the FM system was…less than adequate.

Back when I was in second grade, my little sister stared elementary school (kindergarten). In her class, there was another deaf child. Though she had bilateral hearing loss, and her parents had get the implants. My sister made quick friends with this kid. Who also used an FM system of her own in conjunction with the implants.

Now my sister hell bent on annoying me as she is apparently decided to pull a prank on me. With the help of her friend and her kindergarten teacher. See the FM system relies of frequency.

The microphone the teacher wears picks up sound, and then sends it to a receiver. For me, I wore a signal hearing aid. For my sister’s friend the recover was her implants. Supposedly, the FM system is supposed to make the sound more crisp for the implants. Or at least that what I’ve been told.

Anyway, one day at dinner my sister asked me for the frequency of my microphone. I being a particularly guileless individual (hence my fascination with Azula as a character) gave it to her.

The next day, she apparently told her teacher the frequency my microphone was one. And he then changed the frequency setting of my sisters friends microphone to mine. Leading me to hear both of my own teachers and my sister’s teachers lessons at the same time.

Now, I was across the school at the time. So the connection between my hearing aid and the microphone in my sister class wasn’t great. So I mostly heard gibberish for about five minutes, till the my sisters teacher changed the frequency. Once the prank was over. My sister (and the rest of my family later) laughed about this for a week!

It wasn’t all bad though, I was eventually able to use this and other incidents to adopt a cross system (the same type I use currently) instead of the FM.

Anyway, sorry for the long winded ask not an ask, this particular part of chapter 76 in Happenstance just reminded me of events in my own childhood.

It’s weird to think that Bumi and I and kindred spirits in being “Azula’d” as it were.

I’m also reminded about Katara’s teasing reaction to Azula’s pride in “bat sonar” used against Bumi. It reminds me of being teased for a week about the “incident”.

But your story provided an Azutara connection to mine own life. And I’ll take it!

Thanks again for writing the amazing story that is Happenstance! And I can’t wait for the Azutara/Scream Au.

That is an absolutely hilarious story!

The idea for Azula to use the bat sonar prank on Bumi with his hearing aids honestly came from absolutely nowhere. While Bumi amassing an army of children & kidnapping Iroh is loosely based on a plot-line from the show “Community,” that specific part just popped into my head & seemed funny!

I love that this little joke resonated with you as someone who uses hearing aids.

Your sister is quite the prankster & I bet you were mad at the time even if you can find the humor now! That’s exactly the kind of shit I would’ve pulled on my brother when we were kids if I could’ve though. Not even gonna lie. I used to love messing with him. However, I’m the oldest! I can’t believe your sister was this much of an aspiring prankster when she was only in kindergarten & you in second grade!

Thank you for sharing the story & thanks for the kind words! I miss Happenstance 😭

Scream Au will be posting regularly…. Soon. I’m working on the “when” of it all! Thank you for the encouragement! ❤️

[hualianff]

head empty, hands full (from petting your dog & holding your hand)

Modern AU where HC has been released from the military due to health reasons, both physical and mental. After serving for over a decade, HC struggles to adjust to life outside of the military and find another fulfilling purpose.

HX, an old comrade, convinces HC to adopt a puppy once he settles down back at home. A part of it has to do with the lingering PTSD and anxiety HC developed from being in the military.

Never having the opportunity to own pets in his childhood, HC quickly realizes that puppies need to be trained. A lot.

The largest pup of the litter he adopted was a wild card from the start. Even though HC knew he wanted her as a companion at first hand-lick, HC certainly can’t have the little vermin tearing up his sofa or peeing wherever she likes.

HC brings his puppy, E’Ming, to a top-rated training class. The first day consists of rambunctious puppies and puzzled new dog owners. HC internally breathes a sigh of relief knowing he isn’t the only one with an uncontrollable beast. However, one would think the more training sessions, the more progress would be made.

With E’Ming, it’s a little more difficult than that.

It’s honestly a bit embarrassing when the other dog owners can clip leashes onto their dog’s collars with a simple snap while HC has to full-on wrestle E’Ming to gain access to the ring where the leash attaches. Fortunately, E’Ming is quite a big puppy compared to the other dogs in class, even for a Dobermann. HC doesn’t have to worry too much about squishing her.

During the times E’Ming does not obey regardless of what HC says or does, the instructor comes over to personally help. The instructor’s name is Xie Lian, a youthful and gentle character who never fails to make HC’s heart race. It seems he isn’t the only one, as E’Ming listens to XL when told to sit, roll over, and high five. It takes HC five minutes to get her to sit–even when he dangles her favorite treat in front of her nose!

When XL introduced himself on the first day of class, he talked about his general love for animals, especially dogs. Since he was young, XL volunteered at a no-kill dog shelter where he would take part in cleaning the kennels and playing with the dogs. Since then, this passion has stayed with XL. 

XL is back in university after taking a years’ long break because he couldn’t afford school once his parents cut him off after not following in their family’s business footsteps.

He’s now studying to be a veterinarian and trains dogs on the side for money. As the first few weeks go by, HC can clearly see XL loves what he’s doing from the bottom of his heart.

HC’s exterior remains guarded but he grows to admire XL and his determination and compassion. It’s refreshing, a different type of dedication HC knows from the military. 

When XL works with E’Ming, HC spends time with Ruoye, XL’s own dog who he uses for demonstrations. Ruoye listens to HC without a problem–even nuzzles against HC’s hands for pets–meaning HC must be doing something right. (Ignoring the fact that XL has probably trained Ruoye flawlessly.)

During the third week, HC observes from the side as XL pampers E’Ming with praise after successfully completing three rounds of basic commands.

“Who’s a good girl!? Who’s a good girl!? Oh, I think it’s you. Yes, you’re the good girl, the bestest- '' XL coos as he strokes along E’Ming jaw, scratches behind her ears, then eventually rubs her belly as she rolls onto her back.

HC watches with starstruck eyes. Of course, XL knows what he’s doing. It doesn’t mean HC isn’t amazed by his work every time. At this point, HC is gradually learning that having a dog is not about molding E’Ming into the companion he expects her to be, but about working together to best meet both her and HC’s needs in their relationship. 

As XL finishes showering E’Ming with affection, he looks over and catches HC staring. HC, aware that his face must either be one of evident enamoration or resting bitch face, awkwardly clears his throat as he straightens his already rigid back. 

“You’re doing a great job with her,” HC says truthfully. His heart is warm and full from the interaction between his dog and XL. He wonders if E’Ming will ever act so carefree with him, going on to joke that, “Perhaps she would prefer to have you as her owner instead.”

XL laughs lightly as he slowly stands up. He shakes his head. “I highly doubt that. She just needs to know that she can trust you.”

Realizing her belly rubs are over with, E’Ming flips onto her feet with a confused whine. She goes to nudge at XL’s leg, tail wagging as XL pets her one last time. With a bark of satisfaction, E’Ming bounds over to HC. 

Judging by the excited expression on E’Ming face, HC can tell she is preparing to jump. HC does not encourage this behavior by any means. He is lucky that he is tall and strong enough to catch her sixty-pound body without toppling over. Other people do not have the same privilege, especially strangers who unknowingly entice E’Ming to come over.

But HC doesn’t have it in him today to scold her before she jumps. So he allows it. He allows E’Ming to leap into the air with the expectation to be caught by her owner’s arms and coddled against his warm chest.

The Dobermann happily licks HC’s neck. Saliva pools into HC’s collarbones. 

“See? You already have her trust. Additionally, you have the discipline and verbal cues down. The top thing I recommend to improve your teamwork is to be more expressive with her. It wouldn’t hurt to freely display your emotions to back up your commands, ” XL suggests. He walks a little closer until he stands right in front of HC. “This will let E’Ming know you trust her just as much.”

HC nods in understanding. Growing up and spending his youth in a constant cycle of order or obey, his default attitude is indifferent yet respectful. While HC is not overly eager to wear his emotions on his face, he’s willing to make an effort to change in hopes it will strengthen the bond he has with E’Ming.

To think, HC’s closest company he’s had over the last two months is an over-energetic, unhinged puppy. 

“All right. Thank you, Xie-xiansheng.”

“San Lang, how many times have I said that you can just call me Xie Lian? I’m only thirty-five; Xie-xiansheng makes me feel too old,” XL says, smiling. HC briefly thinks XL is the first person to smile at him like that. 

“My apologies.”

“No apologies needed, San Lang. If it’s not out of my place, may I ask how old you are?”

“Thirty-three.”

“Ah, so you’re my didi. How about San Lang refers to me as gege?”

HC doesn’t take more than three seconds to nod his affirmation. He bets none of the other participants get to call XL “gege.” Or at least, he hopes.

“Hmm. Gege sounds...nice.”

“I’m glad. I’ll see San Lang next week for our next session?” XL cheerfully asks. “We’ll be working on proper etiquette for walking your dog out in public.”

E’Ming lets out a high-pitched yip as she wiggles around in HC’s hold; almost as if she can understand XL’s words. 

Oh boy, the magic word to trigger every dog into a buzzing ball of energy. Walk.

HC leans down to put E’Ming back down on the ground but pauses when she growls lowly in warning.

This little brat, HC thinks with exasperation. XL patiently waits for them to leave since they are the last ones left before he closes up the training space.

HC conveys a look of “you win this time, but watch yourself” to E’Ming as he readjusts her in his arms. HC starts to walk towards the door with his spoiled dog snuggling up to his chest.

“Yes. See you next time, Gege.”

They exit the building, both anticipating next week’s class, with the instructor both dog and dog owner are hopelessly infatuated with.

[boxofbonesfic]

Hello my bone babies!

 I just hit 5k, and I’m feeling like a celebration is in order. Since I already have my Spooktacular Smutfest going on, naturally I thought “why not another challenge?” Autumn/Winter is my favorite time of year, that’s when you stay in, watch movies, get cozy, snuggle up with friends and family. There are so many seasonal things I love about this time, so I thought maybe you all might want to share in that joy with me!

Let’s get into it! (Yuh)

🍁Rules🍁

You may either write a fic for this challenge yourself, or you may request one from me, using the theme and character wheels!

I have listed below several themes to choose from that I feel are “central” to the season. You must pick one, and run with it! Same for the character wheel! Your theme must be apparent in your work!

Your entry must be able to be read as a stand alone piece, and I would prefer if it was written specifically for this challenge. 

There is a hard 2.5k word limit! Less is fine, but let’s not go over! If your fic exceeds 250 words, put it beneath a cut!

This challenge is open to almost all categories, fluff, smut, dark, soft!dark, AU, etc! But your fic must be tagged and warned appropriately, and I will not reblog it if it isn’t!

BECAUSE OF THE NATURE OF MY BLOG, AND THE MAJORITY OF CONTENT FOUND THEREIN, THIS CHALLENGE IS 18+ ONLY. MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT! Your story does not have to include smut, but my 18+ rule still applies regardless. 

NO: Bestiality, toilet play, snuff, or necrophilia, though Monsterfucking is actively encouraged 😉 

This challenge will run until January 1st, 2022! Please tag your submissions as “bonetastic bombastic 5K”, and also tag me in them so that I can see them! I do, however, reserve the right not to reblog any work I find offensive or that does not follow the rules. 

🍁Themes🍁

 тнємє ωнєєℓ

Fireplace

Snowed in

Baby it’s cold outside

Meet the parents

Happy Holidays (Thanksgiving, Xmas, Hannukah, Kwanzaa, New Years, ETC!)

Hot cocoa

Apple picking

Cuffing season

His sweater

Snowball fight

Winter getaway

Getting sick

Warm me up

Baby, maybe?

 🍁Characters🍁

¢нαяα¢тєя ωнєєℓ

Chris Evans

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

Jake Jensen

Andy Barber

Ransom Drysdale

Eddie Brock

Peter Parker

Thor Odinson

Clark Kent

Sam Wilson

Lee Bodecker

Arvin Russel

Curtis Everett

🍁Quote Prompts🍁

“Well, you know. Tis the season.”

“I didn’t get you anything—” “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re enough.”

“I thought you wanted to go somewhere for the holidays!” “Yeah! Somewhere! I didn’t think that would be here!”

“It’s beautiful.” “Yeah, you are. I mean, it is! I mean—shit.” 

“I never actually… made a snowman before.” “I mean, for your first try it’s adequate.” “Hey!” “I mean, he’s perfect, babe! Frosty himself would be jealous!”

“It won’t be so bad!” “Your parents hate me.” “They don’t hate you! They just… don’t… like you very much.” 

“Are you telling me we’re stranded?” “I’m telling you the snow is higher than the goddamn door!”

“Maybe we should share the blanket. You know, for warmth.”

“Already got my present right here. Stay still, doll, gotta unwrap it.” 

“So what you’re telling me is you’re not interested in wearing matching sweaters?”

 “I don’t know that you’ll get any presents with that filthy mouth.”

“I can’t sleep without you. It’s too cold.” 

“What? Nonsense. It’s the perfect time for scary stories.” 

“My hands are cold.” “Then you should let me hold them.”

“Tell me you didn’t.” “Didn’t… what?” “Didn’t get baked in my parents backyard and then eat all of the dessert for this evening.” “That… depends.” “On what?” “Whether you want me to lie or not.” 

“Mom, this is my [significant other].” “Oh no. What happened to the doctor?”

“You have to help me get revenge!” “Revenge? [insert character name here], he’s seven and he hit you with a snowball.” “He knew what he was doing!” 

“This is… a pregnancy test. And it’s… positive?” “Merry Christmas?” 

“We’re under the mistletoe, and you know what that means…” “You’re holding it!” “It still counts!”

[bonnyskies]

deadly agenda ⇢ myg

min yoongi is a dangerous man. you’re a manipulative wife. together, you two are a deadly duo, and you both have your own agenda.

pairing — emperor!yoongi x wife!malereader ft. king-husband!taehyung

genres — angst, sexual themes, royalty!au, strangers-to-lovers!au

warnings — age-gap (reader is 20, yoongi is 28), swearing, degrading terms, mentions of death, feminization, descriptions of murder, sexual themes, infidelity, betrayal, slight voyeurism, yoongi is intimidating and reader is manipulative, basically they’re just plain evil

author’s note — i hate tumblr’s new update. i had more to write (not enough for a part two) but couldn’t because of the new 250 text box rule. but as for this story, this is probably the longest one i’ve written so far and the one i’m most proud of. anyway, hope you all enjoy and sorry for taking so long to upload this, took lots of planning and rewriting, plus i’ve been busy with school too.

word count — 7.4k

masterlist

Min Yoongi is a cautious, yet observant man.

Whoever steps foot in his palace, he makes sure to know everything about them. Who they are, they’re background, appearance, and how they approach him. Each and every thing can help him learn who he can trust, and who he cannot, who are his allies—and who are his enemies.

Yoongi stood by his palace’s entrance, accompanied with his guards and greeted his special guests, one by one as they walked up his home’s grand steps. He makes sure to take notes on each and every person’s facial expression, their appearance, chosen attire, and the certain way they walk up to him.

Anything could benefit him into knowing them. Their wealth and clan can be identified based on their specific appearance and choice of clothing. Their facial expressions help him learn what their true feelings and intentions are towards him that are hidden by their fake smiles and words. And lastly, the way they walk up to him can help him know the type of personality they have, whether that be obedient and innocent, or arrogant and untrustworthy.

The way he learns about his guests have never failed him. That was, until he met you.

Yoongi would be lying if he said he wasn’t astonished when his eyes laid on you for the first time. There were many things that left him utterly speechless when meeting you. For one, when his advisor told him that his guest would be bringing his wife, he was expecting a woman—not a man.

Another thing that left Yoongi speechless was your appearance, mostly your attire. You were dressed in feminine-like clothing, silk robes that were decorated with gold jewelry instead of fine material clothing with armor plating like what many men of royalty wear. And you also didn’t hold a blade like most men do too. Instead, you held a simple wooden decorative fan.

And lastly, your eyes.

Yoongi has a remarkable judge of character. Maybe not as good when it came to you, but still adequate. On the outside, your eyes were shining with gentleness and a kind greeting. But he could tell there was something else hidden behind them—something that left him intrigued by you.

You had an agenda—plans, and Yoongi was determined to find out what they are.

The welcoming feast was extremely dull.

Yoongi absorbed gallons of wine into his system, hoping that would help numb his mind and get through the rest of the evening without having to tear somebody’s head off from their body.

And apparently you thought the same as he did. Across the table, Yoongi watched as you fanned yourself out of boredom while everyone else were socializing with one another, an unamused facial expression shown on your face. Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle behind his glass when seeing one of the other wives say something to you and you flashed her a quick smile before dropping it back down into a straight line.

It seems his attention on you didn’t go unnotice because next thing he knew, your eyes were now on him. Yoongi was expecting hints of disgust or uncomfort from you, but instead he was met with sly smirk and a raised brow.

Yoongi watches intently as you leaned over and whispered into your husband’s ear. Your husband—Kim Taehyung then stood up from his seat and bowed his head, “Excuse me, your Majesty.”

Yoongi turned his head towards your husband, diverting his attention completely away from you.

“My wife is not feeling well at the moment, so with your permission, would it be alright if he can take his leave from the feast early?”

The entire dining hall fell silent, shocked expressions plastered on everyone’s faces at the table.

Nobody has ever dared to leave one of Min Yoongi’s feasts before. Who would want to, right? It’s considered a great honor for one self and their kingdom to be invited by the Emperor himself to attend one of his events.

Whispers began to spread amongst the guests.

“How shameless is Kim Taehyung’s wife?”

“Wanting to leave the Emperor’s feast early? Utterly shameless I tell you.”

“That Taehyung needs to discipline his wife.”

“Doesn’t he know how important his Majesty’s events are? And he wants to leave just because he isn’t feeling well? Unbelievable.”

“He needs to learn some manners—”

Anxiety swept across Taehyung’s face when hearing the gossips coming from the other royals, eyes wide and mouth gaped open with panic. “Forgive me, your Majesty, I never intended to—”

With just the clear of his throat, everybody fell silent once again and all eyes were now on him. Yoongi’s gaze would shift between you and your husband, curiosity filling his veins when noticing that there wasn’t any signs of illness presently visible on you. You weren’t trembling, your eyes weren’t red and skin wasn’t showing any signs of flushness. You looked fine.

That only caused more questions to form in Yoongi’s mind. Like, what do you exactly want, and what is your reason for being here? Because according to his advisor, you weren’t even part of the guest list until today. That only raised even more suspicions he had towards you.

And it’s not like he can just throw you out—actually, he can. It’s just that he doesn’t want to because now he’s curious, and he wants to see how things turn out.

“He can go,” Yoongi says a brief silence, immediately noticing the small smile creeping onto your lips. “But take him to see the physician and let him check him out,” and then it dropped.

“N-No, your Majesty,” you spoke up, lips parted. “You don’t have to do that—”

“You’re feeling unwell, right?” Yoongi then asks, smirking at the silence he got in reply. “Well, you should let my physician diagnose you then. Don’t worry though, you’re in great hands.”

One of his guards that stood by his side approached you and started to guide you to the physician’s office. And while you were leaving, Yoongi could see the glare coming from you and aimed right at him.

If you wanted to play games with him, he’ll play.

Wandering through the palace halls at night was something Yoongi usually does whenever he can’t sleep.

And apparently you had the same tendency too.

While mindlessly strolling through his palace’s hallways, Yoongi’s eyes suddenly landed on your approaching figure, the first thing catching his attention was your choice of clothing. You were dressed in golden inner robes, your sleep-wear, and the material was so thin and transparent that every feature about you was visible to him. The sight of your clear, smooth skin and every curve of your body and muscles made his mouth water. It was like you were purposely dressed like that to seduce him.

Another thing that caught his eye was the small, slightly torn grayish book that was in your grasp, which was where your complete attention was on because you still haven’t noticed his presence despite the two of you walking towards the other.

“Hello, your Highness,” you jumped out of fear, eyes wide and closing your book when your gaze landed on him. “May I ask why you are wandering around my palace this late at night?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you simply answered, fingers tight around the cover the book, which only made Yoongi even more curious as to what you were exactly reading. “And it seems you are having the same problem as well, am I correct?”

Yoongi only hummed in reply, taking another small step towards you until you two now stood only inchest apart, him towering over you and staring down right at you. “Is there something wrong with your chambers? I can tell my servants to move you and your husband into a more comfortable place for you—”

“No no, your Majesty,” you were quick to interject. “Everything is perfect. It’s just that I’ve always had trouble sleeping at another royal’s residence, that’s all.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but find your reason funny, because he has always had trouble sleeping when there were other people staying in his palace.

A brief silence came between you two before Yoongi spoke up once again, “I’ll be taking a quick walk around my garden, you can accompany me if you like.” He didn’t wait for your reply before leaving, but when hearing the sound of your footsteps behind him right after, a smirk grew on his lips.

“You know, you never really introduced yourself when we first met,” Yoongi then brought up while the two of you made your way to the gardens.

“Forgive me, your Majesty,” you bowed your head apologetically before replying, “My name is ___, Kim ___.”

“It’s a great pleasure to meet you, Kim ___,” Yoongi reached down and took your hand into his, pressing a soft, yet tender kiss on the back of your palm, smirking at the evident blush forming on your cheeks. “And I’ve got to say, you are looking quite well for someone that claimed to be feeling sick not even three hours ago,” and that is when your smile dropped.

“Must’ve been my anxiety,” you were quick to reply back, your eyes never leaving his. “After all, I am staying at the Emperor’s palace for the first time.”

Yoongi was impressed honestly, he had to admit. For everything he had to say against you, you had something say right back at him. There isn’t a lot of people who have that type of skill to think of words—believeable words right on the spot. Anybody would believe what you were saying—too bad he isn’t just anybody.

“Must be...,” Yoongi just says, eyeing you slightly. His gaze then shifted onto the book in your hand. “What are you reading there?”

“Oh this,” you held the book up, “It’s called Flowers of the Region—a guide to every type of flower that is grown and can be found in both the South and the North. It’s my favorite book.”

“Well, that’s fortunate,” Yoongi points out, “you like flowers, and we so happen to be going to my garden. What’s your favorite flower?”

“Lily of the Valley,” you answer with a smile. “Have you heard of it?”

“I have,” Yoongi replied, his interest towards you growing even more. Lily of the Valley, despite the beautiful features of the white flower, it is proven to be quite deadly when digested. “They are only found on top of the Southern mountains—but lucky for you, I happen to grow them right here in my garden.”

Your smile grew even wider. “That’s great.”

The rest of the walk to the gardens was in silence with you trailing forward while Yoongi stood back. And with your eyes focused on the path in front of you, Yoongi couldn’t help but send glances at you every once in a while, his eyes burning into your back, admiring at the clear view your smooth skin through the thin, transparent material of your inner robes.

He surely needs to give whoever crafted your sleepwear a raise—and a big one too.

When the two of you finally got to the gardens, you were left instantly speechless at the sight of the many plots of different flowers, ranging from beautiful, vibrant ones that were quite common to dark, mysterious ones that you’ve never even seen before.

Yoongi couldn’t deny how adorable you looked though when seeing his garden for the first time, eyes wide, shining with admiration and your mouth gaped open.

“This is beautiful,” you gasped, leaning down and running your fingers delicately over some flowers.

“Thank you,” Yoongi stood beside you, “I make sure my gardeners take good care of this place.”

Silenced filled the atmosphere as Yoongi stood back and silently watched you admiring the many flowers. Normally he’d be annoyed for someone touching his property, but for some odd reason when it came to you he didn’t mind so much. Perhaps it’s because this might be the only way for him to get close to you and learn about your true intentions—or maybe he just really wants to fuck you.

Yoongi found himself once again staring at you, watching as you bent over to get a closer look at one of the flowers, giving him a perfect view of your ass and hips, both in which he wants to grab and caress with his large hands.

“So,” Yoongi spoke up after some silence, “how exactly did you become the new Lady Kim?”

Yoongi instantly noticed the way your body tensed from his question. “I was his Highness’s personal servant. When his wife suddenly passed away, he was a complete mess and I was the only one that stayed by his side through the entire mourning process. I was the one that comforted him whenever he was feeling down, I made sure he was taking care of himself and helped him with his royal duties.”

Yoongi then noticed your shoulder slumping. “After about a month or so, he started seeking me for a...different kind of comfort.” Sex. “Soon later he decided to make his new wife—the new Lady Kim.”

“You don’t seem so happy about the change in position,” Yoongi commented, “I’m sure this is much better than being a simple servant. You’re a royal now.”

“Oh, I am,” you quickly corrected him, “But being a man and having a feminine title can sometimes make things complicated.”

“Well then, don’t make them complicated.” Yoongi suggested, “You’re not a servant anymore, you’re a royal. They may not respect you now, but you have the power to make them do so.”

“Don’t worry, I know,” you told him sternly. “They’ll learn to respect me. Whether that be the hard way or the easy way—it’s their choice. So you better watch out, your Majesty, or something bad might happen to you,” you laughed softly.

Yoongi released a forceful chuckle, eyes briefly squinting at you suspiciously. It may have sound like a harmless joke, but to him, he could hear the small hints of truth behind them. “Oh trust me, I will. I wouldn’t want you as an enemy.”

“And you as well,” you replied, eyeing him back.

Silence came between you two again, Yoongi leaving you to inspect his garden in peace while he stood back and watched you. It wasn’t until an hour has passed you spoke up again, yawning, “we should head back to bed, your Majesty. We have that conference in the morning with the other royals and we need the energy.”

“You’re right,” Yoongi agreed, nodding and stepping aside so that you could walk ahead of him and back inside the place with him following right beside you. “Let me walk you back to your room.”

You didn’t say anything, only held your head low to hide the small grin on your face as the both of you made your back to the chambers. And as you two got closer to your destination, you both were froze at the sound of moaning.

Yoongi was confused at first as who it could be, but when turning to you and seeing the hardened expression on your face, he knew.

“O-Oh, Taehyung—f-faster, please!”

Yoongi was speechless. He knew many royals took on concubines while being married, but he didn’t know someone could so shameless as to bringing them to another person’s residence alongside their spouse. “Your Highness—”

“Don’t bother, your Majesty,” you spoke calmly, eyes hard and emotionless. “I’m use to it by now and it doesn’t really bother me anymore.”

“Really, it doesn’t?”

You shook your head. “At first it did, but after sleeping with my husband so many times I have learned that the only person he cares to satisfy is himself.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle. What kind of husband doesn’t have the desire to satisfy is own wife? Maybe he should take you to his chambers and show you exactly what you’re missing. “Well, I-I’m still sorry for you.”

You simply shrugged your shoulders, “it doesn’t matter, your Majesty. Have a good night.”

Yoongi watched as you then opened the door went inside the chamber, causing your husband and the woman to stop and look at you with wide eyes.

“Don’t mind me,” you said to them, not even bothering to glance at them, shocking Yoongi. “I’ll be on the balcony reading my book. Just let me when you two are done.”

Taehyung’s attention instantly went back to the woman that was straddling his lap when hearing your words, hands kneading her breasts and hips and started thrusting back up into her, causing moans to erupt from both of them. Yoongi didn’t why, but the sight of them made his blood boil.

Maybe he should go in there and fuck you in front of your husband? That’ll show him what he is missing out.

Yoongi continued to watch through the crack in the door as you walked past the couple and went onto the balcony. And once you were out of his sight, that’s when he finally got a clear view of the woman on your husband’s lap, and he instantly recognized her. She was one of the servants that accompanied you and Taehyung here. Yoongi distinctly remembered seeing her earlier today, serving you tea after you got back from seeing the physician.

Yoongi glared at the couple, scoffing at the sight. What did that Kim Taehyung see in that whore of a servant that you don’t have?

You are far more enticing than she is.

Taking one last glance at the shameless couple, Yoongi retreated back to his chambers. And while he did so, his mind suddenly went back to you. How did someone so...unique end up with a man like Kim Taehyung? He’s a weak person, a shame to royal blood. You deserve to be with someone with real power, someone who would never leave you unsatisfied, both physically and emotionally. Someone like me.

Yoongi could feel himself harden just from the thought of you.

Damn you for having this type of power over me, his mind cursed. Yoongi has slept with countless of other royals before, both men and women, and he has never encountered someone like you.

You are truly something else.

“Damn,” Yoongi mumbled out to nobody in particular, palming himself through his robes. “How the hell am I going to get rid of this?”

And right on queue, a young servant boy just happened to be walking right by Yoongi when the question ran through his head.

“Stop,” was all he said, making the servant boy freeze in his place.

“Y-Yes, your Majesty?”

Yoongi took slow, intimidating steps towards him until he was towering over him, using his hands to cup his chin and forcing the servant boy to meet his eyes. “How would you feel having the honor of spending the night with your Emperor?”

The servant boy couldn’t stop the small smile from forcing on his face. “I-I would love that, your Majesty.”

That was Yoongi needed to hear before leaning down capturing the servant’s boys lips with his, hands moving to his thighs and hoisting him up in his arms and carrying him into his chambers, lips never separating.

“You’re a eager one, are you?” Yoongi chuckled against the servant boy’s mouth, moving his lips down his neck and forcing a whimpering moan from him.

“I-It’s my duty to serve y-you, your Majesty.”

That brought a smile on Yoongi’s lips.

Yoongi couldn’t find you anywhere the next day.

He couldn’t find at you breakfast, he couldn’t find you during the conference with the other royals and their wives, and he couldn’t find you at lunch. Now as dinner was approaching, there still wasn’t any sign of you anywhere.

But he had no problem finding your husband. Wherever he saw Taehyung, he saw that whore of a servant trailing behind him like a pet—but you no where to be seen.

Yoongi thought about approaching him to ask about your whereabouts, but he couldn’t help but think of the consequences that would happen afterwards. But that still didn’t stop him from sending glares at the younger royal and the servant every now and then, which didn’t go unnotice by either of them.

“Is there something wrong, your Majesty,” Taehyung finally asks, breaking the tensed silence between the two of them. “You’ve been staring at me all day today and haven’t said a single word.”

“Oh nothing,” Yoongi simply replies, eyes still trained on him while twirling his glass of wine. “Just wondering where your wife is at right now, since everyone else is here. Is he still not feeling well from last night?”

For a very very brief moment, Yoongi could see panic glinting in his eyes before answering, “o-oh yes, your Majesty, he told me that he’s still feeling unwell so I allowed him stay back in the room.”

Liar, was Yoongi’s first thought, eyes glaring even more at the long, black-haired royal.

Everyone at the table could feel the tension between their Emperor and the young royal, and still no one chose to speak up about it.

Yoongi had a reputation. He is the first ever Emperor to achieve the throne through combat rather than family bloodline—and he is also the youngest ruler to ever be placed higher than a simple king. But that weren’t the only things he was known for. He was also generally known for being intelligent and quite reserved, and cruel if absolutely necessary, and also able to hold a grudge. It may sound simple, but everybody knew that if their Emperor had something against you, your days were limited.

So that’s why nobody chose to speak up when seeing the menancing glares their Emperor were sending at the youngest and only surviving Kim. Because they knew if they intervened, they’d only anger him and get on his list, and that’s the exact opposite of what they want to do.

“Your Majesty,” his advisor suddenly whispered right beside him. “I think it would be a good idea to continue the meeting. Some of your guests has some things to say about the...improvements you’re doing to the North.”

Yoongi clenched his jaw, eyes scanning over Taehyung once more before turning his attention to the other royals. “Sure,” he then says, “which one of you want to speak first?”

Not even a second later, Park Jimin, ruler of the Park Kingdom stood up from his seat and spoke. “Your Majesty, my council and I believe that the border that you have placed around my region is completely unnecessary.”

“How so?” Yoongi asks, leaning back against his chair with an amused look on his face. He had to admit that he was impressed that the blonde man was the first to speak up. He may not be the youngest royal out of everyone, but he certainly is the one with the least experience when it came politics.

“For starters your border cuts right through my kingdom’s river, slicing our water supply in half,” he starts, voice slightly raising. “And the amount of wood you required for the construction of the wall resulted in about ninety percent of the forests in my region to be completely cut down, forcing most of my workers into unemployment.”

Yoongi continued to listen closely with his hands laced together and resting on top of his chest, rocking back and forth in his chair with an intent glint in his eyes.

“I also find it completely unfair how your border only crosses over my kingdom but no one else’s.” Jimin continued to rant, jamming his finger repeatedly angerly against the table while keeping his eye contact with him. “I think it’s not for protection like you have claimed many of times, but as a prison, to keep my people in check. You’re nothing but a—”

Yoongi slammed his hand heavily onto the table, instantly silencing the young royal and causing everyone to gulp nervously. He may at times find it amusing when someone fights back, but he will never allow anyone to talk down against him, not in his own residence.

“You think I built that wall as a prison?” Yoongi asks, chuckling when the blonde man didn’t reply. “Are you forgetting what happened before I built that wall? Spies from the South would come right into our territories and would gather information on us, murder our people in their sleep—that’s how your parents died, am I correct? Some spy that sneaked into their palace assassinated them when they were asleep? It would such a shame if the same thing happens to you—after I take down the wall, of course.”

Yoongi smirked when noticing the seeing Jimin’s jaw clenching and hands angrily balling into fists. “So don’t you ever accuse me again? Because everything I do is for the best of my people, not just yours. The wall is only bordering your land because your land is the only one that connects with the South.”

Jimin’s head hung low, hands unclenching and lips dropping into the frown.

“So before you come at me, you should make sure that you have all the information, do you understand me?” Jimin nodded and sat down.

Everybody tensed when Yoongi then stood up from his seat and slowly, intimidatingly made his way to Jimin’s chair. And when placing his hands on the younger man’s shoulders, Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle when feeling him jump slightly underneath his touch. “Normally I’d kill anyone who spoke to me that way,” leaning down, he whispered into Jimin’s ear, sending chills along his pale skin, “but I’ll let it slide for once since you’re new to this whole thing.”

“T-Thank you, your Majesty.”

With one last pat on the shaking man’s shoulder, Yoongi pulled away, and he was standing straight again, his eyes suddenly fell on your figure who stood near the entrance of the conference hall. But you weren’t alone, no, three servants that he couldn’t recognize was with you. The four of you seemed to be in a deep conversation, and with everybody focused on him, nobody noticed you.

Yoongi’s eyes slightly squinted out of suspicion when seeing you then bow your head at the three servants, a smile on your face before each of you went your separate ways.

Yoongi is definitely going to look into that.

“Now,” returning his attention back to his guests, Yoongi leaned himself against the table, keeping close to the blonde man that was still trembling. “Does anyone else have anything to say to me?”

“N-No no, your Majesty,” Jung Hoseok, another royal spoke up, gulping anxiously as he tightened his hand around his wife’s who sat beside him. “We have no complaints whatsoever, you’re doing an amazing job—the perfect ruler.”

Kiss ass, Yoongi rolled his eyes, pushing himself away from the table. He then shifted his attention towards your husband and asks, “what about you, your Highness? Anything to say?”

Taehyung shook his head. “No, your Majesty.”

“What a bunch spineless people,” Yoongi’s mind scoffed, and he couldn’t agree more.

His advisor then rose from his chair and spoke up, “okay everyone, thank you all for attending his Majesty’s annual end of conference feast this year. You may all now return to your rooms and get some rest before heading back to your own residences in the morning.”

Yoongi stayed back and bid farewell to everyone, and once everyone was gone he left the conference hall with only one thing on his mind—you. He was determined to find out what exactly were you and those three servants were discussing about. Yoongi was so rapt on you that he didn’t even hear his advisor calling out of him to come back.

He practically jogged to the chambers hall, heading straight to your room and when he got there, just as he was about barge right through the door he was then stopped by a sudden sound. Moans could be heard on the other side of the door—female moans. Yoongi’s hands were already hovering over the door handle before he opened it slightly to where there was only a crack, giving him the view of seeing your husband with same servant girl from the night before.

Yoongi watches as she claws his back, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he place open mouth kisses along her bare chest and thrusted deep into her, causing loud, pleasurable moans to erupt from both of their mouths.

“T-Tae,” the young servant girl gasped, hands running up and down his sweaty back and fingers digging into his marked, glistening skin. “I’m close.”

“Me too, love,” he groaned back, leaning down and capturing her lips into a passionate kiss. “Together, okay...?”

Utterly shameless, Yoongi shook his head and pushed away from the door with disgust. Just as he was about to continue searching for you, he froze at the sound a voice behind him—a female voice.

“Are you looking for Lady Kim, your Majesty?”

Yoongi turned around and was greeted by one of your servants, hands laced together and hanging in front of her with a wide smile on her face. “No, I’m not,” he quickly replied, shaking his head. He expected her to just nod her head and leave, but instead she released a small chuckle and turned around, saying in a soft tone, “follow me.”

Yoongi was hesitant, eyes burning suspiciously into the servant girl’s back as she began to walk away. But he soon decided to follow her despite the constant warnings that were running through his head at the moment.

The servant’s gaze was trained on the path in front of her, not even bothering to acknowledge the glare she was receiving by platinum-haired man that was trailing right behind her.

The warnings that were consuming Yoongi’s head started to get louder as he continued to follow her deeper into his residence, parts of his home that he hasn’t even been in.

Yoongi stopped in his place when the servant led him to a room with dark, double doors. “What is this,” he asks with a cold expression, causing the young girl to chuckle and open the door without saying a word to him. He was about to question her even more but when he got to see what was behind the door, leaving him speechless.

Standing right in front him was you, along with over a dozen guards and servants that were from many different kingdoms. Some of the guards and servants were part of the Park Kingdom, some were from the Jung Kingdom, and others were from your own home.

“What’s going on here?” Yoongi asks, his eyes glancing across the many different pairs that were staring right back at him.

“They work for me,” came out of your mouth. “We are all part of movement that believes that the North needs a change in leadership—which is you. You’re the only that deserves to rule the North, not these cowards.”

Yoongi was speechless. For once in his life he didn’t know to say. For the first time he wasn’t the one that was planning in the shadows, plotting against somebody—but instead it was people who he has never even met before. “Why,” was the only thing that came out of his mouth.

“Because war is coming your Majesty,” you stepped towards him to where you stood only inches away from his face, staring up to meet his eyes. “My agents told me that the South is planning an invasion into our territory, and the way the other kingdoms are ruling their land—we won’t survive this war. You are the only one that is capable of leading us to victory.”

Yoongi turned towards your followers. “Do you all agree with him?”

“Yes, your Majesty,” one of the guards spoke up. Each and every person then stepped forward and began to speak loudly on their opinions of their leaders.

“Park Jimin is too young to be King—he doesn’t know how to rule.”

“He can’t even hold a sword properly.”

“Jung Hoseok is a spineless man!”

“Damn right he is! The moment the South comes barging intl his palace, he’ll do whatever it takes to save his own skin and not his people.”

“Kim Taehyung is shameless bastard who would rather spend his time fucking his servants than leading his own Kingdom.”

Yoongi could see you snicker at that comment.

“He spends our taxes buying whores instead of using it to improve our home.”

“None of them belong on the throne!”

“They are right, your Majesty,” you stared at him with a small smirk on your lips. “Out of everyone, you’re the only that deserves to rule us. You are the one who will lead us to glory.”

Yoongi stared down at you with such desire. He may have found you attractive before, but now he couldn’t help but find you utterly irresistible. “So this isn’t just some power trip? Doing all this just to get to the top?”

Yoongi had his suspicions already about the war. He has heard from his own agents that the South were planning on some sort of invasion, but there wasn’t any evidence that confirmed that. So sadly he hasn’t been able to do any preparations—at least, none without the other royals knowledge of it.

You shook your head. “I don’t care about power, your Majesty—only survival, and you’re the best way to achieve that.”

“I see,” Yoongi reached up and stroked his chin, “how would you all do this anyway? Kill the rulers of each Kingdom can be tricky, and what about their heirs?”

“It’s quite easy,” you answered with a small grin. “They all have their jobs,” you nodded at your followers, “once they are home and unguarded, that is when they’ll strike. And as for their heirs, well, that’s not really a problem.”

Yoongi raised a brow. “Jung Hoseok’s wife is unable to bare a child, and he also doesn’t have any younger siblings to take over. So once he passes, rulership of his Kingdom immediately goes over to you. Same goes for my husband and Park Jimin.”

“I see,” Yoongi hums, biting inside of his cheek. “So what’s my job then?”

You smirk. “The only thing you have to do is have your succession speech ready, your Majesty.”

“But I have another problem,” Yoongi added. “Many people already disagree with our war with the South. How will we manage to persuade them that this is necessary? It’ll be difficult since three of the four leaders of the North are dead.”

“Trust me, your Majesty,” you spoke with such clarity and a smile on your face. “Everything is planned out and you don’t have to worry.”

Yoongi didn’t replay, eyes briefly glancing at the people that surrounded him. You must’ve noticed his still cautious state because next thing he knew you were signaling everybody out, telling them to “get some rest and prepare for your departure in the morning.”

“Why are you doing this exactly?” Yoongi asks the moment you two were alone in the room. “Because there is no damn way you’re doing this just for survival. I mean,” he suddenly chuckles, “you are giving complete control of the North. What is your angle here? Are you going to kill me after all this is so that you become Emperor?” Yoongi was starting to get frustrated. He has never had trouble understanding someone before until he met you. And now because of you, his mind was a complete mess.

“That’s not my intention at all, your Majesty,” smiling up at him, you placed your hand on his shoulder, smirking at the feeling of him tensing underneath your fingertips. “All I want is for the North, my home—your home to finally come out of its shadow that it has been forced to hide in for centuries.”

“And you think I’m the one that can do that?”

“Yes,” you nod, fingers dancing across his chest. “I’ve read records of previous Emperors and you’re the only that deserves that title. Unlike the other ones, you are resilient, intelligent, ruthless if necessary, and you even fight alongside your men which no other Emperor has done before.”

As each compliment came out of your mouth, Yoongi couldn’t help but feel himself starting to get hard underneath his lower robes, and you running your hands seductively over his chest definitely wasn’t helping.

“How should I repay you for your kindness then,” Yoongi found himself melting against your touch, his hands finding their way into your waist. “Because someone like you definitely deserves an reward for their loyalty.” Yoongi then turns you around in one quick motion, causing you to gasp at the sudden action and feeling his strong chest pressed up against your back and lips brushing against your ear.

A tiny moan escaped from your lips when feeling his hard length suddenly rub against your ass, you yourself starting to get hard as well. “Should I buy you plenty of jewelry, or maybe a large palace just for you?” Yoongi then pushed you up against the wall, smirking at the small gasp that came from you. “Or perhaps,” another moan came out of your mouth when one of his hands slipped underneath your robes and caressed the soft flesh of your behind, “make you wife?”

Yoongi chuckled when feeling shiver against him. “Yeah, you would like that, huh? Being my wife, an Empress, ruling right beside me?”

“Y-Yes, your Majesty,” you stuttered out, tilting your head back from the sensation, giving Yoongi the opportunity to lean down and leaving wet, tender kisses along your neck and bare shoulder, leaving dark bruises that’ll be near impossible to cover up tomorrow morning.

“Good,” Yoongi left another mark on your skin, dragging his finger across your ass, teasing your clenching hole with his fingertip. “Then how about we—secure our deal, then? And when you nodded, that was all Yoongi needed before turning you around to face him and crashing his lips down forcefully onto yours. The kiss was rough, yet tender and filled with lust. With your hands around his neck, Yoongi’s slid down to your thighs and hoisted you up into his arms, deepening the kiss with his lips moving in perfect sync against yours.

The kiss was like a drug that neither of you couldn’t get enough of.

“Please, your Majesty,” you whimpered against his lips, which made Yoongi want you even more than he already did. “Can you please h-hurry?”

Yoongi smirked against your lips, pulling away. “Don’t worry, my love, just be patient.”

It was quite ironic though, because Yoongi was everything but patient when it came to you. He couldn’t wait any longer. Instead of carrying you all the way to his chamber, he laid you on the closest flat surface which happened to be a table and tore your robes completely off of you, leaving you bare and them in ruins.

Yoongi decided to take his sweet time with you, dragging his lips across your ankles, up your legs to your meaty thighs. He then began to leave open mouth kisses over your abdomen and up your chest, teasing your nipples with his tongue and grazing the wet muscle over your collarbone. Yoongi continued his assault on your body until he reached back up your lips, capturing them this time into a soft, passionate kiss which you gladly returned without a second thought, hands sliding up to his shoulders and helping him strip from his own robes, revealing his pale and toned body.

Your mouth watered at the sight of him, eyeing his define muscles, the way his abs clenched as he climbed onto the table and hovered over you, and the way his biceps bulged as he held himself above you. “Y-Your Majesty—”

“Yoongi,” he cut you off, pulling away and moving his lips to your throat. “Call me, Yoongi, my love.”

“Y-Yoongi,” you tried out, heart warming in both of your chests once hearing his name come out of your mouth. It sounded right coming from you. “Please—”

“Don’t worry, my love,” Yoongi reassured you, moving his lips back up to yours. “I’m here, I’m here. Let me show you how it feels to be loved by a real man, yeah?”

The night was then soon filled with nothing but the sound your combined moans, skin slapping and the shared whispers of sweet words between one another.

This was the start of something new.

“T-Taehyung, faster, faster please!”

The sound of the woman’s moans and the bed’s headboard banging against the connecting wall to your room made your blood boil. Your hands clenched into fists and teeth biting angrily down onto your lips.

“Be patient, my love,” you could hear your husband say through the thin wall, making the rage that flowed through your veins grow more. “Let me cherish you, beautiful...”

“Your Highness,” the sound of a man’s voice tore you out of your thoughts, “I’ve done what you’ve asked me to do.”

“Everything’s prepared and ready?”

The guard nodded his head once you turned around, “yes, your Highness. The only people remaining in the palace are your loyal followers. Everyone else has been sent home.”

“Good,” only came out of your mouth before leaving your chambers with the guard following closely behind you. You walked over next door and didn’t bother knocking before barging right in, your husband and the girl instantly jumping to cover themselves with the thin bedsheets.

“What the fuck?!” Taehyung curses loudly, staring at you with wide eyes and wrapping his arms around the girl’s waist, pulling her close. “What are you doing here? I told already you that I’m staying here tonight.”

“I know,” you replied with not even a single ounce of emotion heard in your voice.

Taehyung’s eyes then shifted towards the guard that stood beside you. “What’s going on here?”

You didn’t say anything, only smiled, and that caused fear to form in the pit of Taehyung’s gut. With just the simple nod of your head, the guard walked over to the servant girl and snatched her by her hair, tearing her away from his grasp and yanking her off the bed and onto the ground.

“Stop—” Taehyung tried to reach for her but stopped when the guard pulled out a dagger and held the sharp blade against her neck, tears shining in her eyes. He then turned towards you, eyes glistening as well, “why are you doing this?”

“Change,” was all you said before nodding your head again, giving the guard the order to slide his blade across the girl’s throat, killing her instantly and letting her limp body collapse into the ground.

“N-No no,” Taehyung didn’t hesitate this time to jump out of the bed, despite being completely nude and taking her now lifeless body into his arms, blood staining the ground and his skin, and tears spilling uncontrollably from his eyes. “She was pregnant...”

“Oh well.”

Taehyung’s head shot up from your heartless comment, his teary eyes shining with a newfound rage. Before he had the chance to say anything the guard approached him from behind and wrapped his arms tightly around his neck. He immediately began clawing at his arms, trying to gasp for air that was becoming harder and harder to obtain, eyes bright red and nearly bulging out, tears slipping from them and sliding down his cheeks.

The last thing he saw before he took his last breath and eyes slowly closed was you standing in front of him with a sinister grin on your lips.

“Your Majesty.”

Yoongi glanced up from his book to see his personal advisor standing right in front of him by his library’s entrance. He hummed in reply, signaling for the young man to continue. We’ve gotten word from Lady Kim—” Yoongi glared at him, causing his advisor to pause and correct his words, “—I mean, ____’s agents that they have completed their duties.”

“They have?” Yoongi asked with a raised brow. He knew you were more than capable of doing this, but he thought something this major would take at least a week to accomplish. He didn’t expect to hear about any success a day later.

“Yes, your Majesty,” his advisor nodded. “The Jung palace is flames at this moment and there is word that Jung Hoseok himself and his wife were in their chambers when the fire happened. And as for Park Jimin, he was found murdered in his bed with a dagger in his chest. Some say it was one of his concubines that done it.”

“What about Kim Taehyung?” Yoongi found himself asking, his mind instantly thinking of you. “Was ___ successful?”

“Yes, your Majesty he was,” his advisor answered. “I was informed about Kim Taehyung’s death by ___ himself.”

Yoongi couldn’t stop the smile forming on his lips. “Good.”

“Would you like to start writing your succession speech now, your Majesty?”

“Yes,” Yoongi answered. “We’ll have the succession conference next week, and make sure every minor clan leader comes so that they know who is in charge now.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” his advisor nodded his head, and before leaving he turned back and said to him in a teasing tone, “oh, and someone is here to see you.”

Yoongi was about to ask him who it was, but he stopped himself when his eyes suddenly landed on you standing in his library’s entrance, his heart stopping in his chest at the sight of you. “H-Hey,” he stuttered out, cringing at the sound of himself. In all his years of living, nobody has ever had this type of power over him—but he wasn’t complaining either.

“Hello, your Majesty,” your reply sent tingles all over his body—and he loved it.

There was nothing but silence afterwards between you two because there wasn’t any need for words. The only thing you two needed to express the feelings you have for each other was your eyes—the passion, the lust, the want that shined in them.

This is just the beginning for you two.

would you guys like to see a drabble series of these two in the future maybe? emperor yoongi and his male wife.

TAGLIST:

@ben-c0c, @sombreboy, @theclawofsa, @joongtoons, @xavi-in-kpopland, @ephemeralkookie, @yoshiure, @illbeyournightmare, @sonderkook, @spaceisbigger, @catboygyu, @justqueerandhereforthetea, @xxminilah​

[mrs-amber]

Hi! I'm loving your new prompts list...and I thought of choosing one too haha what do you think of Lamen Amnesia AU and the 17) “Are you jealous?” I dont remember you but I still got jealous of people flirting with you 🤣🤣🤣

omg!! 🥺 I've never ventured into writing amnesia aus, so really hope you like this one, anon!

This prompt was taken from this list, where you can find other prompts and the ones that were already filled and answered. Let me know if you liked it or if you want another one!

17. Are you jealous?

"The usual?" asked the woman behind the counter. She seemed nice. He didn't know they had an "usual" in this place.

Damen looked at him, he seemed a bit nervous, but Laurent couldn't quite place what it was. He wasn't sure. He guessed it didn't help that he didn't know anymore. He shrugged, Damen nodded towards her, and then started to ask for something else.

Laurent's head hurt, he wanted to sit down. He turned and headed towards a table at the far back of the coffee shop.

From there, he saw the waitress looking worriedly at him, great. Now she knew too. And then she smiled back at Damen. Something in Laurent's stomach didn't feel right. Probably the headache that was making him feel all kinds of stupid. Since he left the hospital he hadn't felt much comfortable, in piece with his own body. It all felt weird. As if it wasn't enough that he couldn't remember the past six years of his life, his body had changed in the meanwhile and he felt weird walking around. His clothes were different from when he was in college, and his face was different too. His whole body was. His house was other too, apparently he was living with Damianos, whoever he was supposed to be. Boyfriend, they had said. He had a job, and he didn't remember it. Fuck, he didn't remember his own graduation.

He hadn't noticed Damen coming closer, so he flinched when the man first started speaking.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" His voice was soft and low, and he moved very slowly, probably in fear of scaring Laurent. He pushed a chair back and sat down.

"Just the headache," Laurent answered. And Damen nodded.

It was weird going out with him now, he guessed that's why it had taken him almost a week to agree with it. They had been to a few "dates" ever since, that churning in his stomach always present.

It was weird thinking that there was someone out there who knew more about him than himself, who had been intimate with him for the past, he thought, five years? He could see the hurt in Damen's eyes. He wanted to comfort him, but he didn't know how. He also didn't know why he wanted that, he didn't remember the man from before the accident.

Auguste had told him that Damen was the most important person in his life, and even if he wanted to believe in Auguste, of course he believes Auguste, his brother wouldn't lie to him about this, it still scared him that he could care so much about someone. But something in Damen made him feel that it wasn't impossible.

He didn't know what to say, he didn't know what to do. He usually did. He preferred to be in control of situations, and this wasn't adequate in the slightest, it made him nervous, and looking at Damen made his heart speed. All because he was nervous, of course.

Damen started to stretch his hand towards his, on top of the table, but then someone stopped right at their side. Laurent removed his hand from the table and looked outside the window.

He turned back when he heard an excited women's voice talking with Damen. Why did it always have to be like this? In the three previous "dates" he had been with the man, there had always been someone who approached them. Or better even, who approached him. Weren't he and Laurent supposed to be together? Wasn't he right there at the man's side whenever it happened? Why were these people, man and women, always speaking with him like this? The first time it annoyed him, of course, but only because he was confused still, and he wanted some privacy, and that man wasn't helping. The second time, he breathed in and tried to tell himself it was okay, as far as he knew he trusted Damen, but he still didn't like that woman flipping her hair and laughing at him. He had then taken Damen's hand, for much his and Damen's dismay, and pushed him away to keep walking, away from her. He was still embarrassed to think about it. It was probably the painkillers he had been taking that were taking over his head and his reasoning. The third time it happened twice. The second time Laurent had just walked away, his headache was already awful, that woman's high-pitched voice made him wanted to rip his brain and his ears out. He wasn't proud of it. And now this.

"Excuse me, miss", he started. She looked at him with her eyebrows almost reaching the top of her forehead. It would have been funny if he wasn't that annoyed already. "We're in the middle of something, here. Could you excuse us?"

She gaped at him, really. Open-mouthed and in shock. He didn't know why. But then she nodded.

"Goodbye, Damen!" she leaned into his space and kissed his cheek. Wasn't she done, already? "And goodbye, Laurent. See you guys around." She waved and walked away. Okay, so she knew him. That could have been worse.

"Hey, sweetheart," Laurent looked at Damen, he was smiling, smugly. Laurent recognized that face, he didn't know why, he didn't know how, but he knew something was coming. Now thinking of it, he had seen a ghost of that same expression in Damen's face in their previous dates. "Are you jealous?"

Laurent felt the heat rising to his cheeks. Of course he wasn't, he didn't know Damen. There was no reason for him to be jealous. Except there was.

His face seemed to be on fire.

Damen was fully laughing now, not trying to hide it. But it was so fondly that Laurent didn't mind, it made his stomach feel lighter.

"Oh, my love! I knew you were there somewhere, it's okay, you'll be okay." Laurent didn't feel okay, but somehow the warmness in Damen's eyes made something in his chest feel warm too.

[veliseraptor]

Top 5 fics/characters/scenes that were hard to write for whatever reason, but u pulled thru :)

this is such an encouraging ask, thank you! it is a nice reminder that I can write things, actually, even when it is hard. I went with fics because that is easiest to remember, but lord are there for sure characters it’s a bear to write. I am fundamentally a coward who generally just tries to avoid those, though.

1. The Compassion of the Wicked. Writing Lymond fic is like pulling teeth. It just is. It’s hard and it’s slow and it’s often painful and usually I can end up with something I’m proud of, eventually, but it feels like I wrung blood from a stone doing it. Even more than gather frankincense that was true of this fic, I think partly because it was an interesting experiment in “how do I write threesome smut in a voice that fits with the overall tone of this fic” and what I ended up with was mostly the most allusive smut scene I’ve ever written and probably ever will write.

Also had to figure out writing Joleta! That was another piece of this fic - she was a character who didn’t come as naturally to me in terms of writing as (relatively speaking) Lymond and Gabriel both do.

2. we live until we die. The most ambitious crossover ever! aka when you build an 850,000 word edifice of AU and then you have to confront a culminating plot moment you’ve been building toward in the wake of two movies that left a lot of people very unhappy, juggling an enormous cast of characters and a snarl of continuity created over the course of six years of haphazard worldbuilding done in fits and starts, involving heavy doses of things like “plot” and “action” - god but this fic fought me! It took me, what, eight months to write? Not including the bits I wrote five years ago, I’m not counting that. But yeah, getting this fic to the finish line was a bear and a half. Ultimately I’m pretty pleased with what came out, barring a few sections I just don’t look at too closely, I feel like I more or less stuck the landing, which was the assignment I set myself here. And if I don’t end up going back to this verse (though I’d like to!) I feel good about where I’ve left it.

3. With Absolute Splendor. sometimes a person gets an ask that they take as a prompt even though it was meant for a five headcanons meme and then that person runs away with that prompt and it grows into this massive animal that provokes fits of mild hysterics over fears of having dealt with everything adequately, and are all the loose ends under control, and oh no a piece of editing feedback that gives me the overpowering urge to scrap all 120 pages of the damn thing--

Anyway, while this fic might well end up going down as the most popular thing I’ve written, second only to Life in Reverse which has several years on it, it was a lot of sweat and blood and tears getting there, particularly in the editing process, where I went through an aggressive bout of sturm and drang and self-doubt over a few things about it that had me pitching one of my periodic WELL MAYBE I SHOULD JUST DELETE THE WHOLE THING fits. But hey! It got posted, and it certainly seems to have gone over well so far!

4. we’re not friends, we’re strangers with memories. I was writing this one concurrently with Life in Reverse but in some ways I think it was harder, for a couple different reasons. One is just the fact that it was my first really long and ambitious fic that I’d...ever written, at the time. (Prior to this one I think the longest fic I’d written was After Life, Death which actually did almost match this one for word count, apparently. But that was in 2010.)

The second is the fact that as I was writing I had no idea where I was going for a good...first half of the fic, and then I knew where I was going (that Loki was going to die) but had no idea how I was going to get there. I was fumbling around trying to write myself through a dark forest, which at this point is pretty normal for me but back then with my prior experience largely being oneshots it involved a lot of screaming.

But I did manage to write through it and finish the damn thing! And while I don’t know if I could reread it without wincing (I haven’t tried) I feel like it mostly did what I wanted it to do at the time. And I’m still very proud of that last couple of chapters.

5. how this grace thing works. This fic took me years to write because I took a long pause in the middle where I got stalled and then drifted away from the books and then had to come back for a reread before I finished it, and I think what got in the way here was a lot of ‘this is nice and I feel weird about it’ which is a feeling that happens to me sometimes if I write something that feels like it’s...on the sweeter and lighter side. It feels weird and sort of wrong and therefore I start to think it must be bad.

I don’t know either, this does seem like it has some unfortunate implications for my state of mind but you know what.

runners up for this could’ve included almost any fic I wrote, especially ones longer than 10k where I almost always hit my crisis about how it’s bad and worthless and I should just give up. the vast majority of my writing attacks me like an overstimulated cat at some point during the process.

[drawlfoy]

The Wonders of Ohio P.6

masterlist (catch up on parts 1-5 here!!)

request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: my original idea :))

summary: y/n’s senior year was going to be great, but her British exchange student is a little weird. this is NOT a non-magic AU. draco’s still a wizard in this fsjifkszfjkd

warnings: language, fainting, bad driving, mentions of drinking and drug use

a/n: eeee this is such a fun bit to write. thank you all so much for being there for me. this is definitely one of my favorite fics i’ve written since it gives me so much creative liberty and the fact that i get feedback and readers for it...just warms my heart. if you’re reading this: thank you so, so much for sticking around. i might come around with more oneshots soon. anyways i hope you enjoy the initial descent into the real real plot. also fluff will be coming soon i promise but i wasn’t lying when i said this was slowburn

tags tags tags @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @icintliviinyiniilsiji @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural

word count: 3.4k

song recs:

a pearl -- mitski

movement -- hozier

revival -- deerhunter

Draco was crying.

Or, at least, someone was. The gasps coming from just a wall away were apparent, but Y/N could hear a voice that didn’t quite sound like Draco--which had to be a trick of the mind, because there could be no one in there but him.

She rapped on the door against her better judgement to be met with a flurry of movement--fabric rustling,  and a soft pop that echoed through the air.

“Draco? Are you alright in there?”

Y/N found herself wishing that he wouldn’t open the door. After the Homecoming ask, the last thing she wanted was to see his stupid pretty face again, but she was a good host sister. Emphasis on sister.

To her shock, the door swung open. Just a few inches, just enough for her to see the pile of black shredded paper in the middle of his room and a drained looking Draco glaring back at her.

“Can I help you?” His once pristine white shirt was gray in some places, like he had rubbed ashes on it. 

“I just thought--did you burn something?”

“No. What is it?”

She looked at him a bit closer. His eyes didn’t look red rimmed with the dead giveaway of a crying session, but they looked close. The furrow in his brow was from worry instead of his usual sternness and he kept nervously pulling down at his left sleeve. 

Draco wasn’t crying, but he was about to.

“I…” There was something deeply unsettling about seeing Draco so uncollected and fidgety--almost like seeing a fish out of water or an American conservative with an adequate understanding of class struggles.The air was charged with something yet again, so much so that Y/N could feel the hair on her arms stand up. She decided to avoid damaging his masculinity any further. “Nothing. It just smelled a little like smoke. I wanted to make sure you weren’t burning a candle or anything. You know how my mom is about that.”

He continued to stare at her.

“Would you like me to leave you alone?”

“Please.” 

Well, that was embarrassing thought Y/N as she made her way back down the hall and to her backpack. I get rejected twice in one day. Smooth.

The days following were profoundly more uncomfortable. Breakfasts became uncomfortably akin to the Silent Game and Draco stopped coming out for tea in the evenings. The drives to and from school were decorated only by occasional bits of small talks or grumbles of exams. In short, Y/N knew that she had overstepped a boundary and Draco was pulling back.

School had finally become crazy. Y/N’s life became so entrenched with letters of recommendation and 200 word supplements that the Draco shaped hole in her life was bearable. After all, she was fine before he came, and she was fine now. She’d been silly, allowing herself to fantasize about a kid with some serious trauma and family issues that clearly had personal things that handle before he thought about getting all cozy with someone who was not in the slightest compatible with him. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

oOo

If someone turned a glass of whole milk into a human, that person would be Chad. He was the poster child of an “American” boy--tall, warm blonde hair, slightly tanned skin, and cornflower blue eyes. 

But his personality? Not so much. 

“My beloved husband!” Y/N called out as she saw him speaking to her mother in the foyer while Draco glowered in the corner. She bounded down the stairs in record time, leaping into his arms as her strappy heels swung from her hands. He smelled of cotton and laundry detergent. 

“Hey nerd,” he said, swinging her around in a circle before setting her down. “Did you finish the Econ homework? I was hoping I could take a picture before I leave…”

Y/N drew back to smack him on the shoulder. “You disgust me.”

“You abuse me.”

“And I’ll do it again,” said Y/N. She had forgotten how funny he was. 

“Oh, you two,” Mrs. Y/L/N cut in, stepping between the two and pressing the boutonnière into Y/N’s hands. “Always bickering like a married couple.”

Lizzy snorted from the top of the stairs where she was struggling to stuff a light jacket into her purse. “Hot take.”

“Hold still,” commanded Y/N, holding the pin and attempting to attach it to his lapel. “I’m literally going to accidentally stab you. Cut it out.”

He made a face down at her. “Do it. You won’t.”

“Oh? I won’t?”

“Y/N,” Mrs. Y/L/N’s exasperated voice warned.

“I’ll refrain, but only because the rug we’re standing on was my Grandmother’s,” Y/N said to him, her voice dripping with sweetness. “Consider yourself lucky that you’re not on the tile.”

“I’ve never been more thankful that my late grandmother-in-law had such impeccable taste.” 

“Suck up.”

“Oh, because you’re such a rebel.”

“It’s called motivation!”

“Honey, I want a divor-”

“For Christ’s sake, stop flirting or I’m going to puke,” a cool voice cut in. The group turned to see Sylvia standing in the doorway, clad in a flowing black dress that just barely ghosted over the top of the floor. 

“You look radiant, darling,” Mrs. Y/L/N said.

“And we weren’t flirting,” said Y/N.

Sylvia sent her a little wink before walking to sit down on the couch across from Draco, who was currently perched cross legged and looking profoundly uncomfortable. 

Sylvia, Lizzy, and their dates all opted to take Lizzy’s car to the city while Chad, Y/N, and Draco took Chad’s. The plan was to drop Draco off at the school with ample time to prepare him for the uniquely traumatic experience that was ASB sanctioned after school events, and to the plan they stuck.

“Yeah, go ahead and treat me like your chauffeur, “ scoffed Chad as Y/N slid into the backseat next to Draco. The sports car was surprisingly narrow with hardly any space between them. If she wanted to, she could easily rest her thigh against his.

“It’s called being polite, dear,” said Y/N, flicking the back of his head before turning to face Draco. “You’re really gonna commit to this? Major props, but, like...you really don’t have to go to this if you don’t want to. You can even stay home. I know how to sneak you back in.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I’m here for the American experience, right?”

“Hate to break it to you, but there is no uniform American experience. It’s all personalized, and I don’t know if you want yours to be seasoned with 14 year olds T-posing in a circle to...I don’t even know. Chad, what kind of music do they play at those places?”

“Fuck if I know. I don’t go to them either.”

“It’s fine. I told Heather I’d be there.”

“Ooookay, whatever you say,” Y/N said. 

They rode in silence for a few more beats. The wind outside was uncharacteristically strong for an early October day, and it looked like a storm was brewing. In their rush to get to the dance on time, they had neglected to take precaution against the wind and ran outside to Chad’s car without a second thought. Draco’s suit, while posh and put together, had clearly bore the brunt of this choice. His tie had become slightly rumpled and his hair mussed, a look that was all types of wrong on him.

“Draco?” she asked. He snapped to attention. “Your tie is all undone. Can I…?” Y/N motioned to his neck.

Wide-eyed and frozen, he met her with, “er...sure.” 

Y/N leaned forward, trying to think past how her thighs were just barely touching his. Her corsage (a tasteful red, thank you very much) bumped against his chest, flattening a bit. She wasn’t very familiar with ties--she’d never had to be in her past experiences--but whatever his was made of, it was expensive. The fabric felt silky and impossibly smooth in her hand as she carefully untied it.

Chad took a sharp turn into the school drop off lot, prompting Y/N to nearly topple into Draco’s chest. His arms shot out to steady her and retracted so quickly that she was left wondering if she imagined the whole ordeal. 

“So it’s true,” said Chad from the front. “Nerds do have bad upper body strength.”

“Shut up,” she responded. Her cheeks felt unbearably hot as she tried her best to focus on tightening Draco’s tie and ignore the fact that she was close enough to smell his cologne--a soft pine, she observed--and feel the shadow of his breath on her face. His hands were clasped together lap, tight enough to turn the knuckles white. 

It was an odd feeling, getting butterflies in her stomach while she was touching a boy that wasn’t her date as Chad careened towards a parking spot and pulled in so violently that Y/N almost went sprawling into Draco again. She looked up at him, getting ready to crack a joke about the absurdity of the situation or the questionable driving; instead, she found herself staring up into his eyes. 

His normally pale eyes looked darker than usual--his pupils were insanely dilated--but that was because it was dark in the car. Obviously. Out of the corner of her eye, Y/N could see his chest rising and falling with an urgency that she hadn’t noticed before.

“Do you want me to uh..fix your...your hair, too?” Y/N said, mentally cringing at how she stumbled over the sentence. To be fair, his hair was ruffled and out of place. It wasn’t like she was making an excuse to touch it or anything.

To that, Draco jerked away from her, his back brushing up against the opposite car door. “No. No, it’s ok. I’ll fix it myself.”

Y/N was sure that her face was tomato red.

“Alright buckaroo,” Chad said from the front, his nonchalant demeanor never more appreciated. “Your hot date is here. Get out of my car. We have a busy day of antiquing ahead.”

Any semblance of casualness left Draco’s body as his eyes widened. “Antiquing?”

“Yeah, remember the place I took you to right after you came here?” asked Y/N.

“Er...don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Excuse me?” She sat up straight so quickly that she felt her hair come slightly undone at the nape of her neck. “That’s rich, coming from the kid going to a school dance as a senior.” 

“It’s probably not going to even be open. It’ll be late by the time dinner’s over,” he said. 

“Since when do you care? Honestly, quit acting weird,” Y/N responded, scootching away from him as he made no effort to get out of the car. 

“I’m not--it’s--erm, nevermind, forget about it.” He cleared his throat, straightened his tie, and brushed off his lapels. “Heather must be waiting for me. Goodbye.”

After a little struggle, Draco managed to best the slightly confusing door handle of Chad’s car and was out the door. Y/N slid across the seat and out with him, shutting the door and grabbing the handle for the passenger side. 

“Y/N?” Draco’s voice called before she had the chance to fully get in and tell Chad to book it. 

“What’s up?”

He took a few steps forward, pausing just a couple feet away from her. His eyes were cast to the rain puddle ridden cement. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid, okay?”

“I should be telling you that, king,” Y/N quipped. “Your first real American dance. If you go to any after parties, make sure to watch your drink. Don’t take any substances from strangers--or, anyone, really--”

“Y/N, he’s not a chick.” Chad, his hands still perched on the steering wheel, turned to peer out at her. “He’ll be fine. I think they have beer in Britain.”

“Well, whatever. Have Heather text me if I need to pick you up anywhere. And don’t get in any cars with someone who’s been drinking!”

“Y/N!”

“Ok, ok, I’m coming.” She slid into the car, turning one last time to say bye. Draco was already gone. “Only if I drive.”

oOo

“So Heather and Draco, huh?” 

Y/N scowled at Lizzy as she speared a piece of her salad particularly viciously. “I don’t know if it’s like that. I think he’s just being polite, or whatever. I think British people are just like that.”

“Why are we even talking about that boy?” Chad asked. “He’s got that whole Timothée Chalamet dying Victorian toddler aesthetic if Timothée was blonde and had a perpetual stick up his ass.”

“In a hot way, though,” said Lizzy, her eyebrows wiggling. Jonathan scowled at her side. “Oh, don’t be so jealous. As if I’d ever go for a kid who doesn’t even know what Snapchat is.”

“I don’t understand what Heather sees in him,” Chad continued, his fettuccine plate long forgotten. “He’s got the personality of a wet rag, and she’s so bubbly and...I don’t even know. Do you guys get what I mean?”

“Draco’s got personality,” said Y/N. 

“Not like Heather.”

“It’s not his fault he’s reserved. He’s actually really funny.”

“And that’s what I like to call rose-tinted glasses,” Chad said, gently poking her cheek. 

“Hey! I’m the one who lives with him.”

“Whatever. Let’s just call for the bill. I’m not hungry anymore.” Chad folded up his napkin, placing it on top of the tablecloth and ignoring Y/N’s protest as he got out his wallet and placed a credit card on the table. “It’s on me, guys. You know how my parents are. They’re just happy that we’re all getting together again instead of holing up in our rooms.”

“Thank god junior year is over,” Sylvia added. “That’s really kind of you. At least let me get the tip?”

As the group bickered over the payment options and flagged down the waiter, Y/N noticed her phone lighting up with a notification.

Heather, 6.48pm: Hey girly! Sorry to bug you on your night but Draco wanted to check in and ask where you guys are/what you’re planning on doing tonight.

“Who’s that?” Chad asked, looking down at the little paragraph in the gray message bubble.

“Just Heather. Draco wants to know what we’re doing. Probably because he’s realizing how sucky dances really are and is about to beg us to come pick him up.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Poor kid.”

Y/N typed out a quick “we just finished dinner and are heading to the antique place now. lmk if i need to pick him up earlier” and tucked her phone away in her purse. As much as she resented it, she couldn’t help but wish that Draco wanted to join them instead.

“Are you guys ready to beat it and hit up that antique place?” Marvin, Sylvia’s date, asked. She rolled her eyes and sent him a lazy smile.

“You sound like a dad.” 

“Off like a herd of turtles, baby,” Y/N offered, gathering her things as they made their way out the restaurant door. “Not gonna lie, this place doesn’t show up on Google Maps or anything. I think I know how to get there but none of you guys are allowed to make fun of me if I take too many wrong turns.”

“No promises,” said Chad, winking down at her and giving her shoulder a little squeeze. 

 As they walked, it became profoundly obvious that Chad and Y/N were the only two who weren’t officially an item. Lizzy and Jonathon were walking hand in hand while Sylvia and Marvin whispered in each others’ ears when they had to wait for crosswalk signals. While she had great chemistry with Chad, nothing ever felt real with him. It always felt like an act.

Perhaps the tension between them was because of that one time they kissed and never talked about it again in freshman year after a particularly nerve wracking competitive math round before she quit--something that she wasn’t exactly going to shout off the rooftops for the masses to hear. Or maybe because he pushed her away right after and said it was a mistake. 

Whatever it was, Y/N and Chad were decidedly not romantically involved. She had been shocked when he’d even bothered asking her for the night. Granted, they were always pals and it shouldn’t have been awkward, but drawing the comparisons between her and the other girls was making the evening very uncomfy. Y/N couldn’t help but pray that Chad was going to be the one to break the ice.

“Where the fuck is this place?” he finally said, much to Y/N’s glee. His grace and manners were absolutely unparalleled. “It’s cold and I’m sure it’s going to start raining again.”

“It should be just a few more blocks and then to the right,” she responded. “Sorry. It’s cool as fuck, though. I promise it’s worth it.”

“This is just her ploy to lure us all away from civilization to off us,” Sylvia said, turning around from a few feet in front of them to raise her eyebrows at Y/N. “Eliminate the competition before college apps even begin. I’m impressed, honestly.”

“Now you’ve gone and ruined it all,” she fired back. “Thanks, Vy.”

She was relieved to see that the antique store couldn’t be missed, even if she tried. The sign, a worn and friendly gold, was illuminated by large lights. The words “My Grandfather’s Attic” had never looked more welcoming as Sylvia gripped the door and ushered them inside.

The moment Y/N stepped inside, something felt...different, kind of like the hair-raising feeling she got when she was around Draco. The electricity in the air she felt with him could easily be explained away by the fact that he was, for lack of a better term, the most stunning person she’d ever seen, but perhaps she was slowly getting over him. Perhaps…

She turned to see Chad, his honey blonde hair spilling over his forehead as he focused on a basket of vintage buttons that seemed to glimmer in the light. The furrow in his brow--the same one that she’d been so familiar with after seeing him solve countless math problems--appeared as he examined the basket, turning a red button around in his fingers, soft and and sprinkled with writing calluses. 

Maybe it had been Chad all along. Maybe Draco was just a detour. 

Before she did anything she regretted, Y/N turned and made her way back into the store. The set up was the same as she remembered--interesting and foreign objects hanging from the walls, ceilings, and congregating in baskets and overflowing shelves. She didn’t even realize that she had migrated over to the opposite side of the room until she felt the solid, cool wood of the black box from her dreams pressed into her hand as she turned it over and traced the strange white sign that was etched into the front. 

“Y/N!” 

The sound snapped her out of her trance to see...Heather and Draco? He was jogging towards her despite the fact that he was wearing a full suit. Y/N made an absent note to make fun of him later. 

“Why are you--”

“Put that down!” He stopped a few paces away, his eyes darting around the store at a frantic pace. “We need to leave.”

“Why? Honestly, if you wanted me to pick you up, all you had to do was…” She had to take a breath to steady herself. Her body felt like it was filled with static. “All you had to do was ask.”

“That’s not...ok, just put it down,” he commanded. “Please. Just put the box down. We need to go home.”

“No! This is my last homecoming. I’m sorry your experience wasn’t great, but I don’t...I don’t, uh, appreciate…” The lightheadedness hit, so suddenly that she almost fell. 

“Fuck, are you okay?” Draco was right in front of her in an instant, his eyes scanning her face.

“I feel...” She took a shaky breath. “I feel...starry?”

The last thing she remembered was Draco trying to tug the box out of her grip, his other hand warm on her shoulder.

And then everything went black.

final a/n: so draco got a howler and some wack stuff happened, huh? tell me what you think. 

[sweetestlamb]

Green-Eyed Monster

Genre: Revenge romance? Is that a category? It is now. 

Summary: Ju-Ri doesn't understand how a nice normal guy like Gang-Tae could fall for someone awful like Mun-Yeong, little moments into their relationship provide clarity and envy in equal parts. 

Author Notes: We have already been so well-fed today, but here I am offering more food, if you’re a glutton then eat it all up! Thank y’all for voting for this one and making me temporarily table the High School AU, today’s episode has given me SO MANY IDEAS. SO MANY. So I will definitely be writing that this week, stay tuned! 

p.s: I planned on being meaner to Ju-Ri but as a feminist it’s hard for me to shit on women no matter how much you irk my soul. I just want us all to succeed and not compete, especially not for men. But never fear, jealousy and mild torture is still here. 

Ju-Ri avoids the front nurse's desk as she makes her rounds, checking on the patients and then checking on them again, better safe than sorry, anything to ignore the news that all her colleagues are chattering about in excitable voices. Gang-Tae and that woman. She doesn't understand how he could be with someone like her. Prior, to that witch crash landing into their lives she had considered her and Gang-Tae close, friends even. They didn't need to communicate often, they had moments of silence that spoke volumes, she told herself. It was only a matter of time until they.....

Then she had appeared. Like a bad dream.

Reeling him in on her line and despite his attempts to wriggle free, she captured him. Ju-Ri watched them circle around each other, him chasing after her every time she was on her war path and Ju-Ri couldn't help the frustration that washed over her as she wondered why? What was it about that woman that made everyone overlook all her glaring flaws? She was selfish, brash, and downright mean. Her touch was the killing blow to everything and everyone around her. She knew that in due time, the sweet caretaker would be next. She was like Medusa, staring too long would ultimately lead to your downfall.

These thoughts swimming in her mind caused her to walk right into them. In a sense. Turning the corner, with a grimace on her concern bitten lips she found the very pair she was ruminating about. Her eyes widen as she took in the scene in front of her; Ko Mun-Yeong had Gang-Tae cornered, their faces closer than was acceptable for the work place. His blush was apparent even from her distance, as if someone had taken a red paintbrush to his cheeks. Mun-Yeong smirked, leaning in even closer, until Ju-Ri was sure they were sharing a breath. The way he was panting made it clear that he was not getting an adequate amount of air. Her eyes tightened into a glare, of course that bitch wouldn't even let Gang-Tae breathe without hindering him. Vaguely she overheard their exchange.

"Mun-Yeong calm down, we can't do this at work. " He said to no avail, knees buckling as as Mun-Yeong dismissed his requests and placed a hand on his cheek dragging him dangerously close.

"This is your fault for being so pretty. I can feel your eyes on me when I'm teaching. It makes me want to end the class and jump you." She finished her suggestive statement with a snap of her teeth, her lips pursing as Gang-Tae swayed as if hypnotized. "Just one kiss and I'll leave you alone. I promise. I'll be a good girl." She pressed on, her words contradicting with the evil smile that spread across her ruby lips. He groaned in response, while she widened her eyes in mock innocence. Moving ever closer.

Gang-Tae stood stock-still, hands tightened in fists, a vein protruding from his heated neck, as the she-demon took his silence as confirmation, cupping his strong jaw into her hands, drawing him closer, closer, their lips on the cusp-

Before she abruptly threw the patient charts in her grasp on the ground. The crash echoing down the hallway, breaking the couple from their reprieve. Gang-Tae leapt back like he was on fire, dipping under and out of Mun-Yeong's evil clutches, absently straightening his placidly pastel uniform. Mun-Yeong on the other hand, did not seem the least bit bothered, turning much like the cat that almost got the milk. Her face lighting up when she spotted Ju-Ri, menacing smile covering her face, before the sound of her heels filled Ju-Ri's ears- who even wore heels to a hospital?- until they were face to face.

She paused to bend down and pick up the charts Ju-Ri had accidentally dropped and Ju-Ri pretended not to see how raptly Gang-Tae watched the smooth motion, his eyes hungrily examining the abundance of skin that was visible under her short pale lilac skirt. He licked his lips, lost in the sight before him. Ju-Ri coughed loudly, his eyes guiltily shifted away, intensely staring at the wall instead as if just noticing that it was here.

"Here." Mun-Yeong pushed the chart into her limp hands, "This is yours." And she heard the unsaid message, Gang-Tae is not. She didn't respond to the quip, snatching the charts from the outstretched hands and looking intently at Gang-Tae, shocked that he would allow this sort of behavior at his place of work. She turned away in annoyance at finding him distracted again. Mun-Yeong was smoothing out invisible wrinkles in her skirt, his eyes were fixed on the quick movements of her hand. Surprisingly enough, Mun-Yeong was the one to end this intolerable awkward moment, turning back to Gang-Tae and wrapping her claws around his thick neck, his ears pinking up at the sudden attention, as she stage whispered, "Next time, you won't be so lucky, these lips will be mine. " And with that she was gone, leaving him suspended in the moment before he shook myself and walked off without a word to Ju-Ri.

With a defeated grunt, she stomped off, maybe the patients needed a third check in.

After finding a nice pillow to scream into, Ju-Ri started to thinking rationally, their relationship was clearly purely sexual. Gang-Tae was such a shy guy, he was merely excited to be with someone as experienced as Mun-Yeong and okay, maybe if you squinted and looked sideways while hopping on one leg, one might consider Mun-Yeong pretty. She bristled at the memory of her very own mother expressing that, she wasn't that pretty. If anything she was terrifying and that far outweighed any external beauty. Ergo, it was only a matter of time before Gang-Tae reached this conclusion and the world would be right once more.

This was the only thought that kept her from violently scalping herself.

Unpacking her lunch, the familiar scents of her mom's home-cooked meal filled her senses, glad for a quiet moment. She ate, pointedly thinking of nothing and no one, until the chair across her was pulled out and occupied, thankfully it was only her mom, who she greeted with a tight smile. She was still coming to terms with the fact that her own mother had befriended her arch nemesis, for lack of a better term. This was after calling said woman; pretty, all but escorting Gang-Tae to her macabre castle and through her advice, helping them reconcile after he had finally escaped. It wasn't that Ju-Ri didn't want Gang-Tae to be happy, that's all she wanted, but she knew first hand what happened to those who got too close to Mun-Yeong, she was a walking danger ahead sign.

Why did no one heed the warning until it was too late?

They lapsed into small talk, how was your day? I made the dumplings you like, here have some. It was all too good to be true, that should have been her first sign that she should evacuate the premises. But she figured that they wouldn't be as shameless as to rub their relationship in her face, she was mistaken.

As she was looking up, she saw movement at the cafeteria's entrance, eyes landing on Gang-Tae unaware of Mun-Yeong sneaking up behind him, until she slid her arm through his larger arm, linking them with a broad smile. She said something to him that made him stumble over his steps, before righting himself and gazing down into her dark gaze. They stood there, unmoving, eyes locked, completely disregarding everyone around them, all but obliterating her appetite.

She waited for him to break the chain of their arms, as he had done in the parking lot, when she had made the mistake of looking back at the commotion behind her.

He didn't.

He allowed himself to be dragged by Mun-Yeong's smaller stature, until she realized with sharp realization that Mun-Yeong was traipsing to her table. Seeing her mother's answering wave and smile, an ice cold slap of betrayal hit her. Did this woman intend to take everything from her? She huffed in indignation, turning her body away from the approaching pair.

Her mother gently knocked her feet under the small table, that was about to feel even smaller. Claustrophobic,even.

She pretended not to notice and stuffed more food into her mouth, hoping that no one would try to engage her in a conversation.

Her mother greeted them, Gang-Tae, ever thoughtful, saw her reaction and quickly stated that they planned on eating outside, they just wanted wanted to say hi.

"Why can't we all eat together? I want to stay." Mun-Yeong innocently maliciously inquired, looking at her newest victim and Ju-Ri watched his jaw tighten out of the corner of her eye, he pulled her with their interlocked arms, the force resulting in their bodies colliding.

"Don't be silly, of course we can all eat together. I brought extra food for that very purpose, I don't want to see those atrocious sandwiches, that's not a real meal." Her mother stated, leaving no room for argument. Ju-Ri wanted to argue, to shout that she didn't want to be anywhere near her, they weren't friends and she didn't plan on acting like they were, damn it. 

A chill washed over her as she considered the seating arrangement, her mother sat across from her, leaving an empty chair next to them both. She should have sat next to her before it was too late. 

Gang-Tae shuffled awkwardly, also noticing the conundrum, before Mun-Yeong easily slid into the seat next to her mother, causing Ju-Ri's mouth to open in shock. Was she actually going to let Gang-Tae sit next to her? His eyes exhibited his surprise as well before he took the last remaining seat. Mun-Yeong smirked as if amused by her discomfort, before accepting the handful of food that was being pressed into her waiting hands.

They ate in relative silence, Mun-Yeong and her mother leading the conversation, she tuned them out, silently seething at the mere fact that they seemed so comfortable in each other's presence.

The loud clicks of chopsticks knocking against a surface made her look up and she watched as Mun-Yeong chased a slippery quail egg with to avail, lips curled in disdain as she cursed the elusive delectable treat. Gang-Tae's warm chuckle hit her ear, "Here, let me help." The fondness coating his voice made her stomach churn, as he delicately picked up and placed the egg in her bed of rice, Mun-Yeong smiled in return batting her eyelashes, "My hero."

In all her years of knowing Gang-Tae she had never seen him so attentive, unless it was with his brother. She wasn't the first person to have a crush on him, but like her all others had been denied. Gang-Tae was a mystery that didn't want to be solved, sweet and calm, but unattainable. Yet here he was soft and eager, doting over Mun-Yeong, who was now tapping her spoon against the bowl of beef, expectant look in her eyes.

He didn't react at first. Pushing the bowl closer to her instead, but she was relentless. Opening her mouth as she continued to click, eyes drilling into his face, until he backed down with a sigh, easily picking up the meat and bringing it to her bowl, only for her to bend her head and close her mouth around his chopsticks instead. With a resonating hum of approval, she took the meat, maintaining eye contact during the entire ordeal, which in reality lasted a few seconds but it felt like hours to Ju-Ri, forced to watch this inappropriately intimate moment. Gang-Tae coughed and shifted in his seat, long legs squeezing together, as Mun-Yeong smiled salaciously, licking her lips.

"I have to get back to work." She was glad when nobody called her out for leaving fifteen minutes before her allotted break was over.

Alcohol was her only friend. She picked up cases of beer, planning to drink herself into a stupor after the week she had. Everywhere she turned, they were there disgustingly wrapped up in each other, she dearly wanted to blame it all on Mun-Yeong and her obsession but....she watched him trail after her whenever she got too far. More than four feet was his limit. He would pace the hallway outside the room that was designated for her literature class, peeking in and fleeing with a blush when he was met by Mun-Yeong's jubilant smile.

She didn't want to think about them, not today, she just wanted to drown herself in her liquid friend and remember better days when Mun-Yeong was a distant memory.

So of course, she heard their voices as she ascended the stairs leading to her rooftop. Kicking the wall in anger, fighting the urge to throw a tantrum and fling her beer at their heads. If she wasn't safe in her own house, where was she safe?

Their quiet voices could be heard over the slight breeze in the night air, "What's wrong? You've been upset all day." Mun-Yeong's deep voice break the silence. No response came for long seconds, and she pressed on, "Are you upset about work?" Pause. "Is it your brother?" Longer pause. "What? Are you mad at me?" Another pause. Mun-Yeong must have seen something on his face because her resounding aaahhhhhh was loud and clear.

"Okay so you're upset with me? Are you mad that I tried to ravish you in the supply closet?"

Ew. She mentally told herself to never go in that closet.

There was no response.

"Okay not that, good because I know you liked that. All those delicious moans you were making made it clea--” 

"You're still texting him." He thankfully cut her off, Ju-Ri was grateful as she felt her own cheeks heating up, mostly in shame. She knew she should leave before this conversation took any more turns but her feet refused to listen to her brain.

She tried to think of who this mysterious man was. How many hopeless men had Mun-Yeong trapped in her web? If she had so many men, why did she have to take Gang-Tae too? It just wasn't fair.

"Who?" She took a step up the stairs until she would see them, sitting close on the table, Gang-Tae's long legs dangling off the surface as Mun-Yeong sat crisscrossed facing him in a too-big shirt that hit her knee. It didn't take a genius to surmise whose shirt she was wearing, Ju-Ri thought bitterly, the only silver lining that it wasn't a piece of clothing they'd bought together.

Mun-Yeong had a butter wouldn't melt on my tongue expression on her face and Ju-Ri wanted to slap her again, why was she always playing innocent with him? She was anything but.

Gang-Tae didn't fall for her act thankfully instead starting to stand up, anger clear in the sharp lines of his body. Mun-Yeong's hand shot out and pulled him back down onto the table, she crawled closer, then he sat motionless, eyes low on her face.

"Are you jealous? He's a friend now. We become close during our- she gestured to them- break. " His lips snarled.

"He likes you."

"So?" Mun-Yeong responded, "Why does that matter? I don't like him, not like that."

Gang-Tae seemed taken back by her answer, huffing and then deflating before whispering in a defeated voice, "I just don't like it. I don't like the way he looks at you."

A sultry giggle fell from Mun-Yeong's smirking lips, "How does he look at me? Is it the same way you look at me? Does it make your heart ache? Do you like me?" With each question, she moved progressively closer, until she was planted in Gang-Tae's lap. Legs straddling him as he grabbed her waist, as she momentarily lost her balance.

He let out a furious breathe of air.

"I don't notice because I'm only ever looking at you." And then with startling accuracy, her eyes met Ju-Ri's, she felt a chill run through her bones, "And I'm not the only one that looks at you. You work and live with someone who is always looking at you. I don't mind, because I know you're mine. When you lose control, just grab me and kiss me. I'm yours to kiss. Stop being jealous and enjoy the fact that you have me."

Gang-Tae's eyes roamed her lips, thumb running across the plush opening, "You're the only one I want to look at me too. I don't see anyone else but you, you drive me so crazy." With a swift pull, he grabbed her head, intent clear on his face. Following through on her offer.

She bolted down the stairs before she could see their lips join, but not before hearing the crash as Mun-Yeong successfully tackled Gang-Tae, wet noises loud in the dark of night.

She got black out drunk in her bedroom. Telling herself she remembers nothing the next morning. Ignoring the indecently large red marks that mars Gang-Tae's neck as they awkwardly stumble around each other, leaving the house at the same time.

The director berates them all in his office, Ko Dae-Hwan, Mun-Yeong's father had attempted to choke her yet again, this time following her class. Someone had forgotten that he was explicitly not allowed to take that class and brought him, and as she was exiting the room, he had thrown his body across the stretch separating them, crushing hands tight around her neck, squeezing out her last breath. All the patients had started screaming, the room a chaotic mess, until finally they'd been able to sedate him and pry her from his grip.

Mun-Yeong had fled the room with tear-filled eyes and a glare directed at them as they had been making sure all the patients, including her father were okay.

Looking down the line, she realizes that Gang-Tae was missing from this reprimand. He was on a break when the situation had taken place. It didn't taken long before he burst through the door, "Where is she?" He only had eyes for the director, frantic and ready to run at a moment's notice.

The director replied, "Nurse Byeol saw her go into the women's room." And he was off, not bothering to spare the rest of them a glance.

She was only going to wash her hands she told herself, she didn't care how Mun-Yeong was doing, she was always fine. She wasn't sure Mun-Yeong even had feelings. Remembering, the manic smile that had spread across her face the last time her father had attempted to end her life.

"I'm here, it's okay. You're okay." Gang-Tae's deep voice echoed on the bathroom walls, soothing and calm. "I'm sorry I wasn't there, I'm so sorry. I'll never leave you again. I will protect you." He promised resolutely, sounding like her suffering was physically hurting him too.

She shouldn't be hearing this. It was too intimate a moment for outside ears.

She turned to give them privacy, but not before hearing Mun-Yeong tearfully state, "It's not the first time. He tried to kill me when I was a kid, why does he hate me?" Her voiced cracked on the last word, and Ju-Ri ran out of the room, eyes dewy.

She watched with her heart in her throat as minutes later they left together, Gang-Tae asking to leave early, the look on his face clearly saying he would leave with or without permission, their fingers interlocked, as he pulled her limp body out of the hospital.

He briefly stopped to place a gentle hand on Mun-Yeong's head, whispering something only she could hear, bringing a wet smile to her face. It was so tender, Ju-Ri couldn't watch.

The scene kept replaying in her head for days, what was it like to have someone want to protect you that way? Gang-Tae lost all inhibitions when it came to Mun-Yeong, he was bold and brazen and fiercely protective. Hurting anyone who dared to hurt her. She overheard from Cha-Young, that he had demanded to be the one to stand guard whenever Mun-Yeong was leading her classes.

He had stormed into the director's office and ordered that, stating that he was the only one who could adequately protect her.

That was where he was know she supposed, she hadn't seen him all day, she walked down the hallway leading to the class needing to understand their relationship, what made Mun-Yeong so special? If she started acting like a bitch would that get his attention? Was he attracted to her because they were such opposites, lost dissonances who found their way to each other?

Her thoughts stalled at the scene before her, the hospital would need to be routinely sanitized.

Gang-Tae towered over Mun-Yeong, hands firm on her waist as she giggled and attempted to pull away, "What are you doing? You said we weren't allowed to do this here anymore. Why don't you have to follow the rules you create?" She eyed him coyly, twisting out of his hold, only for him to easily drag her back, slamming her into the wall. His hand cushioned her head.

"I told you not to wear this to work, you're supposed to teach them, not seduce them." He retorted sternly, eyeing her ensemble, Ju-Ri agree her outfit was completely inappropriate for work. She donned, a emerald pleated skirt that barely reached her thighs, soft diaphanous white blouse with a bow tied at the neck, white laced boots and frilly socks.

"I think I look cute, like a blushing school girl. I thought you would like it." She answered from under her thick, wispy eyelashes. Her soft pink lips, opening in wonder. The picture of innocence.

He growled and leaned into her space, "I like it too much, that's exactly why you shouldn't wear it. I might lose control." He fingered, the pleats, tugging the skirt down as if to lengthen it.

She nodded her head, smacking his hands off her skirt with a tsk. Before lifting up onto her tiptoes, blowing warm air gently on his face, causing his eyes to flutter close, "Good."

Then she walked sashayed away, skirt swishing with each swing and dip of her hip. One final coy look over her shoulder, blowing a kiss and then a cheeky raspberry. Pssssst. 

He grasped the spot where she just was, watching her retreat with heated eyes, before finally letting out a frustrated, "Ko Mun-Yeong!" Before turning and entering the locker room with the reverberating slam of the door.

She didn't understand their relationship, didn't understand why Mun-Yeong deserved Gang-Tae and she didn't. Didn't understand how she made him lose control when nothing else could. Still didn’t see the appeal.  But maybe it wasn't her place to understand. Maybe it was time to stop dreaming an impossible dream.

[coldcocoamilk]

Whose Horse Is That? -- the social season AU we all want

‘sup! after surviving The Big Game at my job, around a hundred cases of wings later, I’ve finally recovered enough to write again. thank you everyone for your patience as I’ve been working to get this out of my brain. please enjoy the social season au that was asked for! 

this work is also available on Archive of Our Own. please read it wherever you are most comfortable reading! as always, your feedback is greatly appreciated, and thank you so much for taking time out of your day to read my work. ♥

Chapter 1: Arrival 

The salty air finally starting to smell a bit fresher. It had been many weeks since Hange last saw dry land, and as she claps her book shut, she takes in the sights from the deck of the ship that had been her temporary home. The Port of London was not exactly attractive, nor did it show off the architecture and class she had been expecting, but still. It was dry land. Finally, it smelled like something more than fish: steam engines, gasoline, and motor oil. It was not exactly ladylike for her, but those smells brought her some joy.

“Hange,” her brother’s voice called out to her. “You shouldn’t stand on the deck while we’re trying to dock. They have a job to do, you know. Your dress might get wet, and it’s cold.”

“But Moblit,” she grinned, “It smells like cars!”

“We have an impression to make,” he reminded her, tugging at her arm gently but firmly. “Besides, I’m serious. We both should get back down.”

She sighed and took the wide-brimmed hat off her head, clutching it to her chest. The air ran through her hair, pulling a few stray clumps out to fly up onto her forehead. “Fine. I just can’t wait to explore.”

The hat came back on, and the two walked back below decks to their quarters. It would only be a half an hour until their shoes stepped back on land, and both were more than excited. Sure, they had a purpose for coming to England: find a lover, secure the family fortune, and have enough children to carry on their legacy. The British social season was the perfect time to do exactly that, and have a little fun while they could.

“What have you been reading lately?” Moblit asked her as they watched the men in charge of docking the boat through the porthole. “I haven’t heard much from you in the past couple days.”

“Oh! It’s a book on human anatomy. There’s a part about a condition called diabetes that is really interesting to me. Apparently, they’ve found out that people with that condition are missing a function of their body. But, we don’t know if we can replace it yet,” Hange explained. “They’re calling it ‘insulin.”

Moblit’s amber eyes flashed. “Do you still want to be a doctor, Miss Hange?”

She felt her cheeks grow warm and chose then to place the book into her suitcase. “It doesn’t matter.”

He sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose and brought his hand up through his hair. “Well, with the way things are looking in the world lately, you could at least be a nurse.”

The sudden stress in her brother’s demeanor wiped the embarrassment from the forefront of her mind. “Listen, if it comes to that, you know I will.”

“We’ll have to go back to America, if we can,” Moblit explained. “But it will be dangerous. I can’t imagine they will be allowing normal sea travel. We might be here longer than we expect.”

“I can learn to love it here,” Hange reasoned.

“You haven’t even seen the city,” Moblit fired back.

With no adequate reply in mind, Hange just sat back down and toyed with the ribbon at the edge of her hat. Of course, her brother would know it is her dream to be a doctor. But women don’t become doctors, she reminded herself. They just become bedside nurses and offer comfort. It seemed like a miserable fate for herself in the medical world. But, if there was a war like they all said there would be, then maybe she could make herself useful. It would be better than nothing, at least.

“I apologize, sister. I shouldn’t talk to you like you’re one of the men.”

“I rather you did, to be quite frank,” She replied. “If we have all this money and power, even if I’m a woman, I should be aware.”

The movement of the boat finally stopped, and a voice from above called out letting them know it was time to deboard. Chatter spread through the boat like wildfire, and soon it was full of the sounds of people grabbing luggage, putting on shoes, and walking towards the exit.

Hange looked at her brother, shrugged, and grabbed the smallest suitcase, knowing it would be a scandal if she grabbed one any bigger. She secured her hat with an extra pin and tucked the stray hairs back under it, smoothed her skirt, and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Finally, land!

As they walked across the dock out to the street, Moblit grinned, finally feeling some of the excited energy Hange did. “By the way Hange, I just want you to know. I respect you. But let me know if you ever want me to stop treating you like the boys.”

“Absolutely,” she replied.

A man stood in front of a car holding a piece of paper with their names on it, and in a quick few minutes, their possessions were stowed, and they were on their way to the residence that would serve them well for the next half-year.

It was a small residence by their standards, and quite small compared to the others in the area, but it would serve them well, nonetheless. The bricks had been recently cleaned and stood out deep red against the white trimming of the house, and when one looked at the shining windows, they also saw brightly colored flowerboxes underneath them. The top floor seemed to boast a large balcony spanning across the whole front of the house, and the grass was surprisingly green for mid-March.

Arriving at the front of the house, three people stood to meet them, one who was quite familiar to the brother-sister pair.

“Kenny!” Moblit shouted, rushing up to give his friend a hug. “It’s been so long!”

Kenny gave Moblit a small smile, a rarity for the man, and a surprise to Hange. “You two were just children when I last saw you. Now you’re out here looking for love.”

“Hange, you’ve gotten so tall,” he remarked. “And you are as beautiful as always. You two will have a great time here.”

“Thank you for having us, Mr. Ackerman,” Hange replied. “I can only hope I’m as beautiful as your home here.”

This earned her another smile, much to her joy. “This is but a cottage, Hange!”

It had been so long since she had seen Kenny smile. Sure, he made sure to keep in touch with the family through letters and photos, but since his sister Kuchel had died, those smiles had become few and far between. His letters never had the same kind of wry wit to them they had in previous years. Still, she knew he was capable of it. Kenny rarely took up the opportunity to make a good joke, but he could only joke if there were people around.

They chatted for a bit on the front steps there, catching up on life and musing about the weather while the two servants brought their luggage in. Finally, Kenny led them inside to the warmth of the foyer, much to the pair’s relief. The combination of the bitter British cold and them trying to get their land legs back meant that standing and chatting, while fun, was quite the chore.

“Moblit, Hange, please meet my two favorite servants. This is Connie and Sasha. If you have any needs or worries during your stay here, please call upon them. They are kind and capable,” Kenny explained as he led them up the stairs. “Hange, your room will be on the last door to the left down this hall, and Sasha’s quarters are right across from yours. There is a washroom just next door, too. Moblit, yours is the same, but down over here,” he gestured to a hall across the way. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to check up on dinner, so take your time to settle in. It should be on the table at around seven o’clock.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ackerman,” the siblings replied together. Moblit walked Hange to her room with Sasha in tow, and then departed off to his own room.

Turning the knob on the door, Hange was greeted with a surprisingly spacious, but cozy room. Deep green velvet curtains were parted to show the street and balcony outside, their tails just barely brushing the floor. The bed was large and four-poster, with curtains for privacy. Her suitcases stood in one corner next to several large wardrobes, and there was a writing desk, end table, and a couch just large enough for two to sit and have tea. The green felt warm, welcoming, and inviting.

“Miss Zoe, Master Ackerman said your favorite color was green, so you were given this room. If you don’t like it, we can always change it,” Sasha spoke up.

“No, I adore it,” Hange replied, walking over to the bed. She pulled back the curtain and flopped onto the bed, sinking into the cushy goodness that was goose down. “I absolutely adore it,” she breathed.

“Would you like me to unpack your bags, Miss Zoe?” Sasha asked, unsure of what to do with her hands.

Feeling the effects of several weeks on a boat combined with the general exhaustion of travel, Hange simply rolled over onto her stomach. “It’s quite alright, Sasha. And please, just call me Hange. Could you please loosen my stays? I’d like to take a nap.”

“With pleasure, Hange.” Sasha’s fingers were swift and adept at loosening the corset, and in no time, she had Hange tucked into bed. “Should I come to you when dinner is about ready, then?”

“Yeah, that sounds good…” Hange trailed off, already half asleep.

The stillness of the bed and dry land. Finally, maybe she could get some good sleep.

[mercyxkilling]

[ ♛ ] send me a url and i'll tell you...

@emptyvictory said: ♛ + my url if we're copying each other? Lol

[ ♛ ] send me a url and i'll tell you the following;

my opinion on;

character in general: oh my god. niko bellic. i can’t explain to you the love affair that i have with this sassy ass motherfucker of a man and how much i want to hold him close and tell him that he’s good enough, though i bet he’d shove me away and tell me to never do that shit again and that i’m weird for doing it at all. he’s got such an amazing duality to him that i am in love with because like. yeah, he’ll fucking kill a buncha dudes, but then he’ll have a conversation in the car with a buddy about how he’s okay with saving some lives or some shit. he’s known to play peacemaker for some, but he’s also willing to smash a cameraman’s face in by kicking his foot through his skull because he doesn’t want to be on manny’s show. then when manny dies he says some callous ass shit about it and then goes about his business like nothing happened. niko is such a good man, he really is, but he’s also not at the same time, and is capable of doing such awful things. characters like that have always had a special place in my heart, and niko is no different. that accent helps an awful lot, too, lemme tell ya. it gives ya girl the vapors. *fans self* which is funny because i don’t actually find the man to be conventionally attractive, but all of that stuff i mentioned above? i mean... i’d let him touch me. i can’t lie.  how they play them: now, rory, i know we’ve had this discussion before, but i’m going to say it again (to fuel your ego because i absolutely love doing that because i want you to feel as special as you truly are, and just because this is how i actually feel and i want to keep being honest about this stuff because secrets don’t make friends!!): if there were anyone else behind the wheel here taking charge of this slavic badass, i’m not so sure i’d even be interested in trying to have a thread with them at all. you bring such a take to this man that i cannot truly explain with words in an adequate way that could do you and what you do with him any justice. it’s just... an experience. and it’s an experience that i have loved from the moment we started all the way up till now, and i know i’ll feel the same way (and still quite as strongly!!) with anything and everything that we do in the future, be it with threads or asks or things in discord or just nonsensical little back-and-forths that we share once in a while when the mood strikes us. i love everything that we’ve done/are doing/will do, and i cannot fully describe to you just how much more i still want to have with you. i’m like mercy is with niko apparently; i’m fucking insatiable with these two. they’ve somehow become my OTP and that’s truly saying something since the last one i had lasted forever (all the way up to this point tbh--the one i told you about with my RDR verse where mercy and jack were supposed to get married? like, it’s managed to override even THAT one in my heart, that’s how much these two mean to me). i will never tire of niko x mercy content, i will ALWAYS want to hear your ideas about them, i will ALWAYS want to hear any ideas that you have for them--no matter how big or or how small they might seem, i will ALWAYS want to hear any ideas you might have for AUs with these two... i mean. i think you get the picture, yeah? BUT IF YOU DON’T COME FIND ME ON DISCORD AND I’LL GLADLY ELABORATE EVEN MORE IF YOU WANT, BECAUSE I COULD TALK ABOUT THESE FUCKERS FOR HOURS. I MEAN, YOU KNOW THAT I ALREADY HAVE, SO DON’T THREATEN ME WITH A GOOD TIME HERE, LMAOOOO. the mun: oh god, rory. ohgodohgodohgod. there are so many things that i want to say here, but i feel like you’ve heard me say them a thousand times already. i just... i want to make sure that you know that i love you, first and foremost. a lot of folks seem to think i throw the word ‘love’ around far too freely, but i very much beg to differ; i only use it when i truly mean it and when it truly means something to me. do with that knowledge what you will. you are such a treasure to me, and i can’t tell you how happy i am that you’re apart of my life and how much i wish we lived closer to one another so we could be silly together and i could actually ruffle your hair and give you platonic forehead smooches and wish you a good day at school each morning and then see you after classes and ask you about your day and talk to you about anything and everything as we sat side by side and watched some garbage like ancient aliens or played some ridiculous video games together while coming up with scenarios, both of us being like “oh my god, could you imagine if niko and mercy ____ together???” and things like that. but even if we aren’t closer, it doesn’t make me value your time that you give to me any less, and it doesn’t make me love the time that we spend talking with one another any less, either. i adore you so fucking much. i just... i just really, really, really love you, and i wish i could show you that better than just with some writing or a crappy doodle here and there you know? you deserve such good things. all the good things in life, in fact, and i wish i were capable of giving them to you. but i hope that you know that i truly am grateful for your presence in my life, i can’t imagine my experience here (or away from here and over on discord instead!) without you, as you’ve become such an integral part of my experience on this hellsite. niko and mercy are my OTP, and i’m yours for as long as you’ll have me, and you are very much stuck with me!

do i;

follow them: bitch, please. of fucking course i do. i can’t imagine not following rory. rp with them: as much as i possibly can and hopefully then some; i can’t get enough of niko and any other characters they want to introduce me to that they think mercy could mesh well with... or that she couldn’t mesh well with and yet could still make an amazing dynamic all the same. :P want to rp with them: are... are you illiterate? YES. ALL THE TIME. ALL DAY, ERRYDAY.  ship their character with mine: one more time, for those in the back, and with feeling!: YES, YES, YES, A THOUSAND TIMES YES. i am so, so, so grateful that niko is part of mercy’s narrative (and honestly, i may even make it so that he’s part of her actual main backstory, that’s how much their relationship means to me and how much it’s allowed me to see her in so many different ways).

what is my;

overall opinion: holy shit i love you and i love niko and i love the way you play him and i love the way you really show his duality and i love the way he learned to respect mercy and how that respect turned to admiration and the way that admiration turned to full on attraction and how that attraction turned to awkward dating but not dating and how that awkward dating but not dating eventually turned into actual dating and how that led to mercy finally kissing him and how that kiss made him feel relief more than anything else but then how all of that turned into something even more awkward and how that led to mercy realizing finally how much she actually truly loved him despite never having been in love and despite the hurt that it caused and the way they both dealt with it (two hardened killers acting like BABIES omggggg) until finally, finally they were able to come to terms with it and are now left wondering where they’re supposed to go from here since they’ve never done anything like this before... AND ALL THE AUs WE COULD HAVE AND HOW THAT COULD END UP FOR THEM BOTH HAS ME SO FUCKING EXCITED BECAUSE WE COULD GET A CHANCE TO SEE THEM BEHAVE IN A DIFFERENT WAY LIKE WHAT IF THEY START OUT HATING EACH OTHER BUT HAVE A MUTUAL ATTRACTION BECAUSE NIKO’S LIKE ‘GODDAMN THIS BITCH IS STACKED BUT SHE’S GOT SUCH A MOUTH ON HER UGH’ OR MAYBE THE RDR AU COULD HAVE SOME STRIFE BETWEEN THEM SINCE MERCY RUNS WITH HER POSSE AND COULD POSSIBLY END UP HITTING A TARGET THAT HE PLANNED TO OR OR OR OMG THE POSSIBILITIES RORY OMFG THERE ARE JUST SO FUCKING MANY and i just can’t wait to experience them all with you and your interpretation of niko because it’s just so fucking good and they’re such a good couple and have such an amazing dynamic that have them both behaving in ways that sometimes are predictable but in others leave me reeling for days like ‘holy shit that actually fucking happened??’ and THAT, my friend, is the sign of a good writing partner. and that is exactly what you are to me, amongst many, many other things. <3 i love you so very much and while i know you’ve had a rough go of it lately, i wish you all the best with it, know that i’m here for you if you should need me for ABSOLUTELY anything you might need (whether it’s to talk/vent, write you silly drabbles, or draw you things), and know that you’ll always, always, ALWAYS have my support through whatever you’re going through. though part of me knows that you know that you don’t need it because you’re so fucking strong and capable of absolutely anything that you put your mind do.

i love you, boo. never forget that. please.

**Note: Mun’s answer are all to be completely honest. Don’t send url if you don’t want brutal honesty.

[emy-loves-you]

Sanders Sides AU-gust Day 31: Fantasy+Crime

Based on a prompt from @writing-prompt-s: 

“Other princesses have Fairy Godmothers. You have a Fairy Godfather. He doesn’t exactly grant wishes in the usual way, but the Fairy Mob always has your back.”

Fairy Godfather!Roman, godchild!Patton

TW CHILD ABUSE AND ANIMAL DEATH 

Day 30 | Masterlist

Patton grunted as he scrubbed the floors with all the energy he had. He bit back a whimper as his back throbbed from the fresh bruises and cuts. He wasn’t allowed to make a sound until he was asked a question. Patton knew that if he was too loud, his back wouldn’t be the only thing bruised.

“BOY!” Patton’s head snapped up to see his mother at the top of the staircase. Patton made sure to keep direct eye contact, partly because it was required and partly because his mother was wearing nothing but a loose sheer robe.

“Yes, ma’am?” Patton internally winced at the pain in his voice. Showing weakness just meant worse punishments.

Luckily she didn’t seem to notice, making her way down the stairs to the parlor. “Stop scrubbing the tiles. Your work was…” she sneered at the pristine floors, so clean she could almost use it as a mirror. “...adequate. Apparently we will have guests coming over for dinner tonight. Pasta won’t be enough for tonight. Since we haven’t been able to get a new chef yet, you’ll need to prepare a meal for the seven of us. Just cook up a few chickens and serve it with the pasta and salad.” She turned and started to walk away.

Patton whimpered. “The chickens?” That meant that he’d have to… k-kill the chickens.

Suddenly, a hand collided with his cheek. Patton reeled back, falling onto the ground behind him. Patton’s mother stood above him, fuming. “What did you say, boy!?”

Patton bit back a whimper. “Nothing, ma’am.”

She gave him a look before huffing, storming up the stairs. “We better have a perfect dinner tonight, boy! Or you’ll wish for a fate worse than death!”

Patton forced himself to stand up, ignoring the pain as dread forced its way into his system. He grabbed the cleaning supplies and limped his way over to the kitchen, putting them in their respective places. He then opened the door from the kitchen to the backyard, whimpering as a few drops of heavy rain hit his skin. He made it around halfway to the coop before collapsing.

Patton let out a strangled sob as everything hit him at once. The pain in his back from his previous beating. The pain in his knees and arms from scrubbing the floor for several hours. The pain in his face from talking out of turn. The pain from the heavy raindrops hitting his skin and freezing his bones. The pain in his heart from what he had to do.

Patton continued to cry, unaware that the rain had stopped. Or, more importantly, that the rain had somehow shifted to where the area around Patton remained dry; and the area around the manor’s windows increased with vigor, making it impossible to see anything from inside the manor.

Patton heard the sound of a twig snapping off to his left and immediately sat up, forcing his tears to stop flowing (a trick he’d found useful over the years). He internally frowned at the mud on his clothes before forcing a smile onto his face. He turned to look at the person approaching, confusion rising in the back of his mind. His parents had fired all of the staff over the past few years, and the guests weren’t scheduled to arrive until later tonight. And there was no way that his parents would be found outside in the mud. So who could it be?

Standing a few feet away from Patton was a young man, around 30 years old in appearance. He wore a simple black suit with a blood-red undershirt and handkerchief. His dark brown hair was perfectly arranged, and his tanned skin looked flawless. His dark green eyes pierced their way into Patton’s soul. (Patton was so busy observing the man’s ethereal beauty, he didn’t even realize that the man was completely dry). The man smiled at Patton, showing his perfectly white teeth. “Hello, young one.” His voice was deep and smooth, reminding Patton of a warm fire after a long day of work. “What is your name?”

Patton let out a shaky breath. The man was a stranger, and it would make sense not to talk to strangers. But Patton’s learned from experience that he would be in pain if he didn’t answer questions when asked. “My name is Patton, sir.”

The man’s smile widened slightly. “Patton, what a lovely name.” Patton shivered as the words brushed across his skin. “Tell me, Patton, why are you crying?”

Patton started crying again, not realizing that he was more eager to speak than normal. “I-I have t-to kill the chickens.” He whimpered out, wincing as one of his tears rolled over a cut on his jaw.

The man frowned, tilting his head to the side. “Why must you kill the chickens?”

Patton let out another sob. “We have guests arriving for dinner, and mother wants me to cook some of the chickens for supper.”

The man smiled. “Oh, have you never killed a chicken before?”

Patton shook his head. “No, sir. Ever since father fired the cook, I’ve been buying meat from the market. But we were on such short notice, and we have no meat beyond the chickens in the coop.”

The man’s expression darkened. “I assumed that your parents worked in the manor.”

Patton shook his head. “No, sir. My parents are Lord and Lady Hart. There are no more workers in the manor.”

The man frowned. “I was unaware that the Harts had any children. And how do they keep the manor in such pristine condition without anyone to take care of it.”

Patton smiled slightly, glad to prove his usefulness. “I am the only child of Lord and Lady Hart. And I am the one who takes care of the manor!”

The man furrowed his eyebrows. “You keep this entire manor in this condition? You can’t be any older than 10!”

Patton’s smile fell slightly. Yes, he did look quite young, with his blonde curly hair and big blue eyes, freckles smattered across his bruised skin. And maybe he was quite small, around the height of a 10-year-old and so skinny that most of his bones were showing. But it still hurt to be called a child. “I’m 14, sir.”

The man’s face was now blank. “What.”

Patton felt another chill go up his spine, but he forced himself to keep his voice from shaking as he spoke. “I turn 15 in the fall.” It was currently spring, when the rains were heavy and the winter chill was barely letting up.

The man smiled again. Even though there was no difference between this smile and the last one, something told Patton that this one was forced. “Ah, how I love birthdays. How will you celebrate it?”

Patton tilted his head to the side, confused. “Celebrate?”

The man clenched his fist slightly, but his smile and relaxed posture stayed the same. “Well, Patton, I came bearing a gift.” He kneeled down to where Patton was still sitting on the ground. “Have you ever heard of a Fairy Godmother?”

Patton thought for a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t believe I have, sir.”

The man frowned slightly before smiling again. “Well, in most fairytales, a young maiden in need will be blessed with a Fairy Godmother, who helps them achieve their dreams.” He brought his hand up to cup Patton’s bruised cheek. The hand was extremely warm compared to the chilly air, and Patton leaned into the touch. “A Fairy Godfather, on the other hand, is slightly different. They can protect young humans who have been hurt by the people they should be loved by. And you, Patton, have been hurt very badly.”

Patton shook his head. “But sir, I deserve my pain!” He saw the incredulous look he was given, and started rambling. “I slept in this morning and was late to cook breakfast, so Father set me straight. I didn’t have the flavor of jam that Mother wanted out on the table, so she punished me for not being prepared. I didn’t call Father ‘sir’ when answering his question, so I was punished. I spoke out of turn instead of doing my job, so Mother gave me a smack as a warning. She was very generous that time. Just today, I’ve been so disobedient. I’m a horrible son. I don’t deserve a Fairy Godfather!”

“Shh…” A thumb caressed his cheekbone, and Patton melted into the touch, still crying. He hiccuped as the thumb wiped away his tears. “Don’t cry, little one. You are not to blame.” Patton went to interrupt, but the hand grew warmer, and Patton sighed at the blissful feeling. “Patton, you may feel as though you deserved this, but you did not. No child deserves the pain that you’ve been through.” Patton let his head be tilted upwards, and his gaze was suddenly locked onto the man’s piercing emerald gaze. His eyes seemed to glow as he spoke. “Patton, I wish to be your Fairy Godfather. Will you allow me to protect you, to allow yourself true happiness? To end the pain and suffering, once and for all?” The air around them seemed to still at his words, the world itself bending to his will. “Patton Hart, do you accept me as your Fairy Godfather?”

Patton’s instinctive thought was to say no. He deserved his pain! The man would soon see how damaged Patton was, and Patton didn’t want to burden another person! But another, smaller part of him spoke up. It was the part of Patton that yearned for the warmth of this stranger’s hand. The part of Patton that smiled when he heard a happy tune, and cried when his parents stopped tucking him in at night. The part that didn’t want Patton to be hurt any longer. I want to be happy.

Patton let out a sob, nodding his head frantically. The man smiled sadly. “Child, you need to use that lovely voice of yours.”

Patton ignored the way his voice cracked as he forced himself to answer. “Yes! I accept you as my Fairy Godfather.”

The man smiled, his green eyes glowing. “Then it is done.” There was a flash of bright light, reminiscent of a fire, and Patton had to close his eyes. When he opened them, the man was gone, a small ring lying where he once stood. It was a beautiful gold ring with ruby gemstones along the band. He slipped the ring onto his finger, and was surprised to see that it was a perfect fit. Patton slowly stood up, noting that not only had the rain stopped, the pain on his cheek had completely disappeared. He turned towards the chicken coop, dread forming in his stomach from what he now had to do-

Five chickens were laid out next to the coop, all with their necks snapped. Patton shakily made his way to the coop, scooping up the chickens to take inside. Their feathers were completely dry, and so were Patton’s cheeks. He had no more tears to shed at the moment.

Patton lugged the dead chickens inside, checking his face in the nearby mirror. His cheek was still bruised, but Patton couldn’t feel any pain from it. Patton shrugged it off, focusing on the task at hand. He did his best to follow the directions from an old cookbook he’d found on how to properly prepare raw chicken. It took the rest of the day to cook, and Patton had just made the pasta when there was a knock on the front door. Patton ignored it, moving to make the salad. He knew that his father would answer the door, and that Patton was not to be seen by the guests.

Sure enough, Patton heard his father’s voice ring throughout the house. “Welcome! You must be Lord Ignus. It is a pleasure to meet you!”

The person laughed. “You’re referring to my brother. You may call me Viridi. These are my associates. You may call them Anguis and Umbra. My brother had some matters to attend to, but he and our final associate should arrive before dinner begins.”

Patton continued to chop the vegetables as he heard his father speak. “Then, let us wait for them in the study.” Patton heard footsteps moving in the opposite direction and sighed, wiping the sweat off of his brow. He’d been working in this stuffy kitchen for hours now.

The door suddenly swung open, revealing Patton’s mother. “Is the food ready, boy?”

Patton shrunk under her gaze, but continued to cut the vegetables. “The chicken and pasta are ready to be served, ma’am. I’m currently cutting up the vegetables for the salad. It should be ready in a few minutes.”

Patton’s mother glared at him. “It should already be done by now!”

Patton whimpered. “I’m sorry.”

His mother scoffed. “Grab some Chardenney to go with the chicken.”

Patton frowned. “We don’t have any Chardenney left…”

Patton shouldn’t have been surprised by the pain that now bloomed across the back of his skull. He whimpered as he accidentally cut himself with the knife. “Listen here you brat.” She growled out. “You are nothing but a nuisance and a waste of space. If you can’t do your job correctly, you’ll wish for death by the time I’m done with you.” She pushed him forward, and Patton winced as the knife dug into his skin. “Get some damn wine.” And with that, she left.

Patton held back tears as he held his now blood-covered hand close to his chest. The pain was excruciating, and Patton didn’t know what to do-

“Is she always like that?” Patton spun around to see a man sitting on the countertop near the door, relaxed as if he’d been there for hours. He wore an expensive-looking black suit with a purple undershirt and handkerchief. His pitch black hair almost completely covered his amethyst colored eyes. His skin was deathly pale, nearly translucent.

Patton attempted to ignore the pain in his hand as he answered the man’s question. “I’m not sure what you mean, sir-”

“Please drop the formalities.” The man interrupted, examining his dark purple nails. “Call me Umbra.”

Patton bowed his head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Umbra. My name is Patton.”

Umbra seemed to shudder as his eyes appeared to glow. Patton blinked in surprise, and the glowing was gone. “It’s dangerous to just give your name out like that, Pa-” He suddenly stopped, appearing to sniff the air. His gaze focused on Patton’s hands. “You’re injured.”

Patton looked down, staring at his blood-soaked hands. He’d almost forgotten about his injury. “It’s fine-”

A hand touched his, and Patton looked up in alarm. Umbra was suddenly in front of him, inches away. Patton felt his breath catch as Umbra whispered. “I’d assumed it was the chicken I was smelling…” His fingers traced through Patton’s blood along the cut, and Patton felt a shiver go up his spine. They stood like that for several seconds before Umbra’s fingers grazed against Patton’s ring. “Where did you get this?”

Patton saw Umbra’s expression and looked down at his feet. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

There was a moment of silence before Umbra sighed, letting go of his hand. “The bleeding stopped. Go ahead and rinse the blood off. I’ll finish chopping the vegetables.” Patton was about to speak up, but Umbra beat him to it. “Do it, Patton.”

Patton felt the shiver again as he went to do what he was told, knowing that he could get in more trouble for refusing. He carefully washed the blood off of his hands, making sure that there were no stains from it. He looked back at Umbra and was surprised to see that the salad was done and a bottle of Chardonnay sat next to it. “H-how?”

Umbra smirked. “I am a man of many talents.” He turned and opened the door leading to the dining room. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Patton. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.”

Patton shuddered as the door closed. He didn’t feel uncomfortable, he’s actually felt better today than he has in his entire life! But something about the people he’s met today…

Patton shook his head, grabbing the salad and wine. He needed to have the dining table ready for dinner!

Patton quickly had the food on the table, each dish covered to keep them warm and/or fresh. He then filled the glasses with wine before quickly hurrying back to the kitchen. Technically, Patton should go to his room (one of the old servant's quarters), but he didn't want to get in trouble for not cleaning up the kitchen. Patton felt his stomach twist in hunger, and Patton wished that he had eaten some of the food before moving it to the dining room. But that would be bad. Patton’s already done enough bad things today. Only good boys got food.

Patton heard the door from the parlor to the dining room open. “My esteemed guests, may I present to you: your dinner!”

Patton whimpered, hugging his knees. He wasn’t allowed to be in the dining room while the guests were eating, and the only other door led to the chicken coop, and Patton wasn’t allowed outside unless he was doing chores! He was stuck in the kitchen until the meal was over!

Patton whimpered as his stomach twisted painfully in hunger. He wasn’t told he could eat tonight, but maybe Patton could have some bread for cooking the chicken well on his first try?

Patton was about to get up and find some bread when he heard a familiar voice. “Thank you for treating us to this feast, Lord Hart.”

Patton’s blood went cold as he heard his father answer. “Please, Lord Hart was my father’s name. We have no need for formalities between us. My name is John, and this is my wife, Elizabeth.”

Patton felt his skin grow warm as the voice chuckled. “Then call me Rubrum.”

Patton forced himself to stand as the discussion continued. “Well, I’ve been introduced to the others, but who’s this young man?”

A different voice answered. “You may call me Glacies. It is a pleasure to be here, John.”

Patton cracked open the door and surveyed the dining room. Patton’s father was closest to Patton, sitting at the head of the table. His back was to Patton, and for that Patton was grateful. Patton’s mother sat on his left. A few seats down sat five men in expensive black suits with different colored accessories. Patton recognized one of them as Umbrum, and-

Patton barely held back a gasp, remembering to stay silent at the last second. Sitting at the other end of the table, staring at him from his spot behind the door, was Patton’s Fairy Godfather.

[ruffboijuliaburnsides]

voiceless!Jaskier AU (pt 9)

FINALLY MORE WORDS ARRIVE!!! Only about half the chapter, but it’s here, and the first hint of properly coming out of the early heavy angst and into something fluffier! :D I hope you guys enjoy it.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 10) Now on AO3

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

Their teacher was a middle-aged halfling woman named Rose, and she was an absolute terror.

They took up residence in a boarding house of sorts in the town they were directed to, that was thankfully not built to dwarven proportions in all respects, and they did various chores and other needed tasks to pay their way in between lessons.

It wasn't really anything like what Jaskier was expecting, to be honest. He'd expected... something else. Something harder, he thinks. He'd expected to be slaving away over repeated motions and confusion, and watching Geralt apply himself only when necessary. In retrospect, that was unfair of him to assume, but it remained in his head for some weeks until it really sank in.

Geralt wasn't going to leave. Geralt wasn't planning to leave, at least not without Jaskier. They both worked as general laborers for their room and board, and Geralt worked almost more diligently than Jaskier at learning to sign, and stayed and stayed and stayed.

And spoke and spoke and spoke.

It could've just been practice. Throwing himself into learning to sign, so he could understand Jaskier, would make sense for Geralt to practice as often as he could, the same way he learned to fight or to identify monsters or to brew his potions. But as they gained knowledge and vocabulary, Jaskier found that Geralt would sign things that were... unnecessary.

Things like: [That boy keeps mooning over the blacksmith's daughter. He doesn't stand a chance, her attention's on the laundress.]

Or: [Do you want me to stew or roast the venison tonight?]

Or: [I saw it and thought of you.]

Or: [That cloud looks like a rabbit.]

Or: [I don't know why, I just thought it would make you smile.]

Rose put them through their paces, adding and adding to their vocabularies every day, and telling them that they shouldn't use any other form of communication if they could help it. Geralt shouldn't speak (not a difficult prospect, admittedly) and Jaskier shouldn't write (much more difficult). But... it helped. They learned, and Jaskier found it all getting easier and easier, found even poetic thoughts coming faster and looser from his hands. It was like being freed, and as he learned, he found that the suffocating feeling of his words pressing in his throat came less and less often.

The most unexpected part of it all, though, was still the fact that Geralt was actually... talkative, like this. Jaskier spent months just drowning in Geralt's words. Apparently making speech something physical, rather than verbal, was all it took to unlock Geralt's thoughts and opinions. Rose explained as they learned how much facial expressions and the emphaticness of the signs themselves were part of the language, and Jaskier found himself graced with an abundance of expression.

When Geralt was angry or irritated, he got that crease between his eyebrows and his signs were sharp and small, the bare minimum of movement to express his thought. When he was feeling things strongly, his signs got bigger and more expansive. When he was teasing Jaskier, there was a looseness to him, and a quirk of his lips. It was overwhelming, and Jaskier couldn't quite believe it was really happening.

But it was. But it did. It wasn't often, admittedly, but it was more often than had ever happened before. Geralt seemed almost glad to let go of any sort of audible communication, as they grew in skill, and the two of them signed... a lot.

Jaskier was feeling a lot.

Geralt said, comparatively, a lot.

They'd spent just over a year in Mahakan before Jaskier's grasp of sign met whatever threshold Geralt was comfortable with.

[If we go now,] Geralt signed, even though he could speak, and somehow Jaskier always came back to that, and how uncertain he felt about Geralt foregoing speech when it was right there for him to use, [do you feel you know enough to speak the way you want?]

It was the most thoughtful, awful, obnoxious, amazing thing anyone had ever asked him, and Jaskier wasn't sure how he felt, to be honest, but he wasn't willing to let things fall to the wayside because of him.

[If we don't know the official Mahakan sign for a word,] Jaskier signed back, [then we can make our own.] It was a lot to ask, but Jaskier wanted to travel. He loved Rose and he loved this little village, but it wasn't where either of them were meant to be. He wanted what they knew to be enough.

It was enough for Geralt, too, apparently. The next day, Geralt packed their things on Roach, Jaskier crouched to kiss Rose on the cheek and signed his thank yous even as she tried to shove extra supplies in his hands with verbal admonitions to write her and come back to visit someday if their travels brought them back this way.

It was strange, being back on the road after so long, but it felt like coming home. Geralt rode Roach, Jaskier walked next to them, and even though he couldn't hum a tune or play his lute Jaskier felt a weight lift off his chest that he hadn't realized was still there. He sped up a bit, so he was in front of Roach, scanned for any large rocks or dips in the road he might trip on, and when he felt like there was at least a short stretch of relatively smooth road, he turned to face Geralt, flicking a little wave to be sure he had Geralt's attention before he started to sign.

[So what's the plan? Do you think there will be any contracts for you before we leave Mahakam?]

"Watch the road, Jaskier," Geralt rumbled, but there wasn't a hint of bite to it. Jaskier was just too far away to tell if he had that tiny quirk of his lips that meant he was smiling, but it seemed likely. The thought of it made a spot under Jaskier's chest feel warm and safe. He rolled his eyes melodramatically, though, and threw up his hands in surrender as he turned back to face the road.

It was funny almost, how over a year ago, Jaskier would've assumed the conversation was over. And it might've been, too, if he was being honest with himself. But now the admonition was simply acknowledging that Jaskier wasn't deaf, Geralt could speak perfectly adequately, and if Jaskier tripped on a loose stone, he'd fall flat on his ass and possibly rip his trousers.

"Probably won't be contracts until we reach Aedirn," Geralt said behind him, and Jaskier couldn't quite hide the smile that stretched across his face at the sound. "Earn a bit of coin to tide us over. Then we start looking for a cure."

Geralt sounded firm, but Jaskier grimaced despite himself, pleased mood gone and a tired sort of frustration sinking into his bones.

They'd had the argument a lot, in recent weeks. While Jaskier was absolutely not opposed to finding a way to get his voice back, so much of the pain of having lost it was mitigated by being able to sign. Not all of it, he thought, pushing back thoughts of his lute, sitting largely unused in its case on Roach's saddle. He'd managed to pull it out a few times over the last year, to check it for damage, clean it, so a quick tuning to make sure it was at least close to properly tuned, to make sure it was ready. He hadn't played, but...

But mostly he was all right, and it was easier to get by and not feel like he was drowning in unsaid words. And in Jaskier's opinion, it would be easier if they worked more, saved up the money, and then went looking when they ran into a promising lead. But Geralt kept saying that the most important thing was finding a way to get Jaskier's voice back, and damn the effort. Which was a nice sentiment that had meant everything to Jaskier when they'd first come to Mahakam, but now it seemed reckless and silly.

Now he wasn't sure what he wanted. He wanted to feel comfortable playing again. He wanted to stay practiced in his playing, if not in his singing. He wanted to at least write the melodies of a song that he would sing one day when he had his voice back. He wanted his voice back. He wanted his voice, he wanted his music.

He wanted Geralt.

But mostly at this moment he wanted to not run himself ragged over the ensuing months trying to keep up with Geralt's attempts to frantically find a cure for something that he could, for the time being, bear with relative ease. Following leads was one thing, moving at a breakneck pace to try to find leads, which is what he was pretty sure Geralt intended to do, was a whole other thing.

But it was a conversation best saved for when Jaskier could talk at length without having to walk backwards. He could try again when they made camp.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 10) Now on AO3