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sabrina-senpai · 11 days
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Nahhhh ain't no way this shit ain't viral 😃 this, is a masterpiece 💅❤️❤️
No one but me (Tsukishima Kei x FEM! Short! Reader)
Fluff, fluff and more fluff.
Warning: Swearing, one misogynist involved
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sabrina-senpai · 19 days
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the problem with reading and writing leading to a strong vocabulary is that you tend to know the vibe of words instead of their meanings.
if I used this word in a sentence, would it make sense? absolutely. if you asked me what it meant, could I tell you? absolutely not.
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sabrina-senpai · 1 month
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Real
Me when I've already spend more than 30 minutes looking for a specific fanfic
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sabrina-senpai · 2 months
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Reblogging this shit cuz midterms are coming up 😭😭😭
Happiness Will Come To You.
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sabrina-senpai · 2 months
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Beggin' on her knees to be popular 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️
“I thought you were on our side”
“I thought you were on my side”
Blud I’m on MY KNEES.
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sabrina-senpai · 2 months
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YESSSSSSSSSS FINALLYYYYYYYYYYYYY, tysm for this absolutely scrumptious delicacy 🤩✨✨✨✨✨
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🌾 ・ OF CLARION CALLS
summ. The rebellion runs into trouble, & Jet takes the brunt of it. In the aftermath, you fight to keep him alive. pairing. Jet x f!medic!reader w.count. 1.5k a/n. So little Jet fics/imagines around so i had to take matters into my own hands. Enjoy!
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The moonlight casts a halo above your head, and for a brief moment, Jet thinks you’re a divine spirit, perhaps a goddess— or whatever it is his mother used to read to him before bed.
( In some ways, you are. )
…Jet, he hears, distant. He can’t pinpoint exactly where— every sound is either muffled or echoing, and the world keeps tipping in and out of a blur. All he can sense through the haze is the belt of dull pain creeping up his chest, and the cotton-numbness engulfing his head. Right. He’d been shot clean through his armor plate by a wayward arrow after he’d jumped infront of Sneers to protect him. He remembers now, vaguely. It had been an ambush on their way home.
...et, stay with me. 
Jet. 
“Jet!”
The world focuses. He inhales, sharp, and the pain blinds him white as he gasps.
“Easy there, handsome,” you joke (not really), holding his twitching body down and trying to meet his dazed look. The blood is thick enough to taste, and one look is enough to tell he’s walking a tightrope between life or death. He's growing colder, and losing colour by the minute. You make quick work to staunch the gaping wound in his chest, hope he can’t detect the shakiness in your hands, or the tears gathering in your eyes. “You’re gonna be okay.”
“Will he?” comes a voice behind the two medics crowding him. It’s Smellerbee, standing at the step of the medical tent; her voice sounds uncharacteristically frightened, and it sends a pang through your heart. I’m fine, Jet instinctively wants to insist, but you answer for him instead. “Yes. He will." ( And, well, surely such a small deception would not count against you, not when it was meant to give the others some measure of peace. )
Jet blinks, finally orienting himself enough to look at you and not through you— and blinks again. You’re lying. He could feel it. He could always tell, whenever it comes to you. 
…Stay, he thinks, suddenly and senselessly, and clasps his bloodied hand around your wrist. He calls your name, voice straining in pain. But he must’ve said it aloud instead, because you’d smiled at him as gently as you could— even when it looked as if the effort of doing so would wound you— and said, calmly, convincingly: I promise, I’m not going anywhere.
“With me?” he asks, again, even when he knows he must’ve sounded like a madman. Perhaps it’s the bloodloss. Likely, it was. It wouldn’t be such a bad end, though, so long as you stood by his side. He wants to tell you this— been wanting to for a long time, now— but the strength has left him, leaving him floating somewhere between the world of waking and dreaming.
“With you,” comes your reply. 
You catch the ghost of his trademark smile just before he slips away.
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Jet survives.
That’s the first surprise. 
The second is that; you’re here. Just as you’d promised.
He must have been out for longer than he thinks, because the atmosphere in the medical tent seemed to have ebbed to something much more conducive than last he remembers. The tinctures of alcohol and sedatives surrounding him and his bloody bandages that night are now replaced with dry ingredients; yarrow half-crushed in a mortar and pestle, mixed herbs and colourful liquids corked in tiny bottles and tins he couldn’t begin to name. His armour had been stripped from him, lying above a chest by the corner.
Ever the leader; “Sneers,” is the first word out his mouth, once he’d stirred awake on his cot and recognition returned slowly to him. It’s early sometime in the morning, judging by the colour of the sky outside the tattered tent flaps and the still quietness in the air. Beside him, an incense of sandalwood burns. “Sneers—”
“Is alive, thanks to you,” you override. The faint bitterness in your voice is not lost on him.
Somehow, someway, seeing him conscious now seemed to make you bristle. You think— no, you know— that it’s unfair of you; that it’s simply the pent-up frustrations and stress overflowing from the night he’d been hauled back to camp with one foot in the grave. But Longshot’s harrowing clarion call for a medic from the trees still rings clear as a bell in your head, just as much as the cold shock that had seized you the moment you realised the birdcall was for Jet.
“Good.”
“Not good,” you correct, “Not when you of all people pay the price.”
( Jet doesn’t delude himself into thinking that there could possibly be another meaning to what you said. It would be impossible. ) “You would’ve done the same,” he bites back, and takes your silence as quiet agreement.
“You’re upset,” Jet points out, narrowing his eyes. “Why?”
A sigh. “You just woke up,” you dismiss, if only to get him off your scent. “We can talk another day.”
“We’re already here, so let’s settle it now. The mission went well, and as far as I can see, I’m the only one in here, which means nobody else got hurt on the way back but me. Atleast, not as badly.”
It’s a debrief, you recognise. A coping mechanism for him— to spur himself into action and settle himself. Given the stress and trauma his body has been enduring the past days, you let it pass.
It’s only when you shift out from your seat by his cot, standing to begin putting away the bowls of medicine prepared, that Jet realises your fingers had been holding his wrist before. You must have stayed up for, what he can only imagine to be long nights, to keep track on whether his pulse was still beating. ( Something inside his chest burns. He can’t tell if it’s your doing or the injury being fussy. )
“I’m sorry,” he huffs, sighing out. “If that’s what you wanna hear.”
“For what?” You set the mortar down on your table with more force than necessary, and looked at him sharply from over your shoulder. Jet, damn him, still looks at you straight in the eyes, confident as ever. You want to kiss him. You want to break his nose. “For being a hero?”
“No.”
“Playing martyr?”
“No.”
“For saving Sneers? Everyone?”
“No—”
“Then what?”
“For scaring you,” he says, simply.
Your heart starts. 
A frisson runs through you, and you feel the back of your eyes begin to burn.
“I’m sorry you had to see me like that,” he emphasises, and doesn’t say, I’m sorry I made you cry, because your prideful self would have denied it instantly, even if he remembers it clear as day. “I’m sorry I put you through that.” 
He yanks at a loose thread on the blanket you’d laid on him a night ago. It must have been terrifying to see him be dragged to the table, half-dead with a broken arrow in his chest, and leave a mess of blood and horror in his wake. It must have been terrifying, indeed, to be the one responsible for him against Death itself— to carry the weight of his life on your shoulders, while the rest of the Freedom Fighters watched on. 
“It’s, it’s my job,” you turn away to close a drawer of medical instruments, because you’re not quite sure you can stand meeting his gaze. Not when it only reminds you of just how much he lived, breathed and bleeds chaos and revolution; not when you know this accident definitely won’t be the last.
You can’t handle him. Or maybe it’s yourself you can’t handle, when it comes to him. “Just, be careful.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he salutes mockingly, albeit with a wince. The flinch is what kicks you back into action.
“You’re staying in bed until you’re better,” you order, curt, ignoring his groan. His wrapped shoulder still seems painfully defiant despite all the numbing you’d given him; it would be a couple of weeks longer before he’d be fully healed, but knowing Jet— he’ll be up performing duties within a week. “That means no strain at all. No scouting or recon or hunting, got it?”
He lulls his head, but there’s a dash of humour on his face. “Since I’m bedridden, does that mean you’re at my every beck and call, then?”
Your face twists. He lets out a laugh when you answer, "In your dreams, Jet."
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
You roll your eyes, though without heat, and place a bowl of fresh water by his side. There is, at the very least, a smile on your face, and Jet’s sure he can sleep well tonight knowing you both are, at the end of the day, okay. 
“Hey,” he calls your name, once you've begun making your way out the tent. You try to ignore how much more sweeter it sounds coming from him. “I really am sorry. I’m serious.”
He had caught your sleeve when he spoke, so your fingers now brush against his. You try not to focus on the touch too much. “So am I.”
“We can’t lose you, Jet,” you continue, unsteady; because saying I can’t lose you would have been unthinkable.
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sabrina-senpai · 2 months
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FRRRRR like listen babes- not everyone can pull off that half bald look 🙄✨
Love em both tho 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️
all the fake asses who’re saying “jet’s actor should’ve been zuko😩😩” are gonna switch up HARDDDDDD in season 2/3 IT’S SO UNSERIOUS. dallas is gorg!!
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sabrina-senpai · 2 months
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Happiness Will Come To You.
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sabrina-senpai · 2 months
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and i wouldn't marry me either
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word count: 20.1k
warnings: ANGST. hurt/comfort, over the seasons/winning you back
summary: You come to a slow realization in one spring, and a revelation in another.
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To be plucked, nurtured, raised, and presented on a platter all for the sake of securing someone's position for the throne. To be placed beside said person and never used. To be nothing more than a tool perfected only to be abandoned before use.
Your lashes flutter as you wander around the palace, pausing to stare at the lotus in the pond, and you ponder the whereabouts of your betrothed. The wind flutters behind you as you stare pitifully at the lilypads, stepping down from the path and onto the grass to touch the water. The dress around your body is tucked behind you by a maid as your fingers brush the water, and you pause, heart rippling in your chest. Something. Anything. You have fulfilled your duty as the most ideal woman in the palace, and now you were to be wed and desired. Yet, one whom you were prepared for did not desire you.
You stay crouched by the pond, and the maids to the other palaces bustle behind you as you stare into nothing.
A quiet woman is to be desired. A gentle woman is to be adored. An obedient wife is every man's dream.
You get up after a while, and you stare at the robes on your body. Pink for the lotus flowers. You wonder how many times you have worn the dresses prepared by the late empress for her ideal daughter in law only to never have been seen by the man you were nurtured for. You hear word of your betrothed and his new maid, and you hear tales about how he desired her and approached her with all these thoughts in mind. You cannot help but wonder what you were created for prior to being picked by the empress.
The wind rustles the leaves above you as you get up, and someone bangs a pot in the background.
Somewhere, there is a rope fraying.
You step back onto the pathing, and you head off to continue wandering. You know the path, each stone and slot of wood stained with a memory that you could never erase from the back of your mind. In your palace that you are to share with your betrothed, there is something staining your fingertips and heart. In the palace of your future and past, there is a drop of your sweat on each tile and piece, each plank and pillar, every color and china. In the palace of the present, you embody everything you can touch and feel. Your skin and body lives in the palace, a shell for your hollow heart.
You wonder if your courses on decorating a house according to what is best for fengshui were helpful. What was the point of decorating a residence if your betrothed never visited you? You wonder and think, fingers swiping to check the maids' cleaning, and you leave the room to return to your tea room, enjoying a cup of tea. You plant so many flowers only to never be visited. You decorate each room to perfectly only to be never seen. You fan yourself with your hand, almost as though you were fanning such pointless thoughts away. A house is to represent its owner. It is not a shell for your hollow heart, it is an abode that will be filled with love one day.
It is an abode that will be filled with love one day, an abode that is currently hollow.
You retire for the night, and the maids leave you to rest as Jinshi enters his corner of the palace, lashes fluttering and his heart souring as he looks at you with something akin to pity. He brushes your hair to the side as he looks down at you, closing his eyes to listen to the summer breeze whisper secrets of his into his ear. The flowers blossom outside, and his shoulder sink, his head heavy as you breathe quietly without a care in the world.
His bride to be.
His wife to be.
A girl picked carefully out of a field and nurtured to be the greatest empress one day. he pities you. You will never be chosen, and it hurts him that you were promised something you could not have nor be loved by. He glances around the room at the decorations, and he hums, lips curled into a sweet smile. It's homey. It's clear you had put thorough thought into where you were told you were to spend your future with him in, but it hurts him that he would not be here with you in the future. Too selfish to throw you away, yet too selfish to fall in love with you.
His heart belongs to someone else.
So, as he slides the door shut behind him to head back to his room, he can't help but wonder what is to become of you when he finally marries someone else. Perhaps you will find yourself, or maybe you will become a shell of what you were made to be, hollow from the inside out and unsure of what to do with the rest of your life. To be a doll and to be grown all for his sake only to be never touched... Jinshi wonders if you know what you want to do if you were to have had a choice in the matter. You did not pick to be as delicate as a flower, after all.
The moon is gorgeous, just a shame that he could not make you the center of his affections.
So Jinshi leaves, wind rustling the tree you planted in your sixth year of life's branches, the lotus flowers planted recently bobbing in the water as the pond rustles from the goose lands on the water, and he closes his eyes, listening to the crickets and noticing the lights in the hallway. A maid nods at him as he passes, and the wood of the residence creaks under his feet, almost as if to warn him to stay away if he would only hurt you.
It was neither of you's choice to end up where you are.
So his only choice made will be to pick his wife.
In summer, you swap the warmer blankets to silk, and you change the coloring to something brighter. It did not matter if Jinshi did not visit you. It only mattered that the residence were still run like a residence. So, the maids swap everything out as you are left to your own again, and you wear lighter clothes, drinking tea alone in your tearoom as you watch the ducks kick in the pond. The residence lacks life. You have no child as you are unmarried, and you are stuck in some sort of crossroad of destiny as you wait for your betrothed to do something.
He does not want you. You know that at the very least.
So, you spend your days drawing, brush wet against the paper as you draw, and you spend your days singing, hoping that somewhere along the lines, you would find something that made you shine in a glass cage. You are nothing if Jinshi does not treasure you. Yet, you do not speak or dare to make more of a sound whenever the maids from the other palaces drop by to request of your presence for their consorts. You are something. You are worth something. You are only worth something because you are still Jinshi's most anticipated betrothed. Yet, all the consorts know that you are not the ideal choice.
You glance at Maomao, lips spreading into a smile as you greet the consort Gyokuyou.
You have tea with her, updating her about the latest news that her maids cannot reach, and you blink at the flower in the tea, smiling apologetically as you ask if you could share another drink. Your eyes trail to her developing baby bump, and you switch topics to how her health has been lately. She tells you it has been fine. A green tea is brought in, and you press the drink to your lips as she continues talking to you.
"Ah, did you hear? Your betrothed has recently taken in a new maid."
"I know." You smile, eyes landing on Maomao. "I heard he had been making unwelcome moves on her as well."
Maomao nods.
"Well, the man's want needs to be placed somewhere." She smiles. "I do hope you take no offense in that."
You laugh. "None taken. He does not want me. I am aware of that much."
Maomao looks at you almost with pity. You do not mind, much used to the look already. Neither of you chose to end up where you currently are. You suppose the difference between her and you is that she is knowledgeable in something specifically while you are knowledgeable in everything generally. It is who you are, and it is who you were raised to be. There is no you without the title of betrothed attached to it. You will be forced to live how you were raised unless you had a reaction and changed. What is there to change in an unchanging environment? Even if you were to change, there would be no difference around you. You are born and raised to be Jinshi's wife. That is all you ever will amount to.
"Then, what do you suppose will happen?"
"The betrothal is simply a formality." You smile bitterly. "I shall simply wait for him to break it."
"He is far too selfish to let go of you."
Your gaze averts to the teapot on the table. "I know."
"Do you truly wish to stay here forever?"
There is no amount of improvement you could pour into yourself to possibly be set free from the palace. You are Jinshi's betrothed. You have been his betrothed, and you will continue to be his betrothed. You have never belonged to yourself as one would have belonged to themselves. You were simply created to be a person that was never your person. You are everything to be desired by the noble worth nothing to the people. You were groomed, grown, nurtured, and ruined for the sake of someone who would never touch you. You are a porcelain doll trapped in a wooden cage with the key around your neck.
You are worth nothing without your title of betrothed.
You have been taught to never escape even when given the chance. You are not to touch the key around your neck. For if you don't, you will be rewarded with riches beyond the comprehension of the common man. For if you don't, the boy you were coerced to crush on will look back at you for once. For if you don't, the world will be a better place all thanks to your small sacrifice. You are to hold the earth up to the sky and die in order for everyone else to live. Then, you will be remembered for the rest of your life.
You are an obedient doll on display for the dignity of the royal dynasty.
"So?"
You laugh dryly. "Where else do I have to go?"
A nameless bride from a nameless family. A dressed up doll on display.
The consort's face weakens in pity.
You can only smile bitterly at her.
There is nothing else you can do. There is no one else you can rely on. You have the key around your neck but you do not know how to use it.
That night, you return to your room, resting on your bed under the summer warmth, silk cool against your skin as the moon shimmers, stars twinkling as you grimace, heart heavy in your chest. You are not loved. You are not loved, nor chosen, nor cherished. You were picked from an empty field and nurtured to become someone you were not simply because there is never a person you were. You are put into the skin of another because you do not have your own. You will never be yourself is there was never a you to begin with. You will never know the warmth nor happiness of being your own person. All you know is to devote yourself to Jinshi.
All you know is that in a field of flowers, you will never be picked by the one you were grown for.
Colored leaves detach from the branches during the season of fall. You change back to warmer blankets, clothing a little more warm, and you arrange for the incense scents to be changed to something else. The bedding becomes thicker, the colors become redder, and you watch the flowers around the residence lose life with each day. The winter is getting colder, and your heart is only further breaking, cracking ever so slightly with each creak of the wood when you step around the place. You are not loved— not by the maids, nor by your soulmate. You are not loved.
You do not have a soulmate.
It is painfully evident when you visit the noble consorts, lips curled into a sweet smile when you drink tea with them. It is painfully obvious when the emperor refuses to let you leave Jinshi when you bring it up as a joke. You are not allowed to do anything in the palace. You are handed a key as a necklace but you do not leave. You are the display at the center of a traveling performance crew. You are a doll that will never be purchased because of your value. A doll that will never be touched because you are too prideful to offer yourself to anyone who is not Jinshi.
The sun may rise and set and the stars may twinkle and sparkle, but you will never be worth anything in the eyes of Jinshi. You are worth nothing. In the eyes of the emperor, you are worth nothing. In the eyes of the other consorts, you are a pitiful child that will be inevitably thrown away. In the eyes of Maomao, you are Jinshi's unfortunate betrothed whom she wishes he would pay more attention to. In the eyes of your maids, one day Maomao will take over as the owner of the residence and you will be left behind. You do not matter in the eyes of anyone.
Somewhere in the distance, a rope frays further.
Somewhere in the distance, in another universe, in every universe, you are cursed to love and never be loved. You are forced to hold the hand of a man who does not want you. IN this universe and every other one, you are stuck wallowing in self-hate, pitied for the way you are treated, despised for being the one who stands next to your husband. You are not a person. You exist only as a shell to embody other people. You will never be yourself. In every other universe and yours, you will be the shell that a hermit moves into only to be abandoned when they outgrow you. You will never be someone of value.
You call the maids to remove the tea, and you wander out into the streets of the capital.
Warm colors of red yellow and orange litter the streets with each step you take, and you purchase a quick snack, chewing on the sugar as you consider how you would need to starve yourself in order to lose the weight gained from the sugar. It makes you sick. You do all these things because you were conditioned for no outcome. You love Jinshi with your whole heart only for him to be in love with someone else. You cannot compare to her. She cannot compare to you. You are too different from her. You wonder if Jinshi simply desired a woman who could not be attained. You were too easy. Too simple. You were created and made in order to be perfect for him.
You purchase peanut treats, chewing on the treat as you watch the sun start to set.
A maid tells you it's time to go home.
You only nod.
You stare at the courtesans in the brothels, and then at your own skin. Perhaps that would be a way out. Perhaps if it were ever to come to it, you would pick that. It is not undignified. You would be sold for a good price, and you would have a rich husband. Perhaps the only downturn would be that the man would sleep with you day and night, but you wonder if that would be better than the bitter loneliness that your years of solitude have left you with. Perhaps you would be worth something in the eyes of another man if you just let go of your pride. Perhaps you would be of worth.
You are just an empty shell, after all.
You find yourself stuck in place as you blink quickly, realizing there are tears on your cheeks and splattering onto your chest. Your maid hands you a handkerchief, and you wipe them away, wiping again and again and again until the fabric is drenched and you no longer can wipe your tears. You stay like that, an anomaly in a bustling street of happy people, your emotions tucked behind your mind as your eyes form a mind of their own as you cry. You are not sad. You do not know how to feel sad. You only know how to cry. You are a doll. You should not know how to cry. You were erased of that ability years ago.
Yet, the tears do not stop, and you cry until the sun is no longer visibly, tears splattering still even when they wash you up for the day. It makes you unwell. It makes you feel sick. You should not know anything so unbecoming of a lady like this. You should not know how to cry. You should only know how to smile and wait for your betrothed to come home. You should not know how to be human. You should not know anything in this wretched world other than the happiness that being married could bring you.
So, as the maids clean you up and let you rest for the night, you dream of a happy marriage with Jinshi.
It is the only thing you know, after all.
Winter comes and you dress warm. The fur rests on your shoulders as you sit down for tea with Consort Ah-Duo, wine pressed to your lips as she lets out a heavy sigh.
"It is a pleasure to receive your visit." You smile.
"Jinshi, that child, he's quite the handful, isn't he?" She gets straight to the point, mumbling. "Had I been more upfront about it, perhaps I could have stopped your demise."
You laugh, lips curled into a bashful smile as you try to hide it with your sleeve, but Ah-Duo sees right through you.
"You are hurt."
"It is hard not to be." You hum, letting your sleeve down as you stare at the drink. "But I have grown used to it."
"The residence must be empty without a master."
You shake your head. "I have grown used to it."
"I could ask the emperor to give you to me." She offers, hand held out to you.
You turn her down. Your role in this world is not to be a servant to the late consort. Your role in the world was already predestinated. It is fate for you to end up with Jinshi in every universe. "I would become a servant. That is not my role in the palace."
Ah-Duo grimaces. "Is your role to wait until Jinshi is forced to throw you away?"
You laugh, lips curled into a gentle smile this time. You do not bother hiding this one. She shakes her head in disagreement, but she does not speak up. You are stuck in your role just as she is stuck in hers. She has retired from the main palace now. You will retire from being Jinshi's betrothed when he deems it fit. You will not be the decider of your fate.
"Let us drink. I missed this."
You are her daughter just as Jinshi is her son. You are the child she watched grow up in another consort's palace, your pinky linked with Jinshi's when the two of you were scared of official events, your shoulders straightening through the years as your education furthered, until you were an undeniable presence in the royal court, your words like law, just and righteous as you argued against the old men who would stop at nothing to prove a woman like you wrong. You are her daughter the same way Jinshi is her son. You are her daughter simply because you grew up with her son.
"I did too." You press the wine to your lips, bitterness sliding down your throat as you swallow, that faux happiness dropping almost instantly. You are not a lightweight. You are trained to drink well in order to talk to guests well. You despise it. You have learned that. You have learned to despise things.
You despise yourself.
You despise the people who pity you.
You despise the maids who whisper behind your back about how you would be replaced one day.
"I do not expect you to forgive Jinshi." Ah-Duo speaks. "I would not forgive him either."
"There is no forgiving to be done. He is simply making his own choices." You nod as the maid refills your drink. "I am not a woman to be desired by him. He is the type to pick a chicken leg over an abalone. He is the type to pick a stick rather than a flower. I am simply what the late empress thought of as desirable to him but ended up not to be. I am not something that Jinshi believes is desirable in his eyes. It is that simple."
"You are desirable." The consort refutes you. "You are educated in everything there is to educate someone in. You are smarter than the majority of eunuchs and workers in the palace. You are someone who is the most desirable person there is to be. Your worth does not lie on Jinshi alone."
"That is what I have been conditioned to believe."
"It is not the truth. Ah-Duo presses the liquor to her lips. "You are just as much of a person as Jinshi is. Perhaps, because of your upbringing, you are more noble than him in antics."
"He is more noble than I." You shake your head. "He is more noble simply because his position allows for him to make his own decisions regardless of who he hurts in the process."
"You may make your own as well." She hums. "Regardless of who you hurt in the process."
"I do not know how to do that." You close your eyes, exhaling. "I am not someone with that capability. I must carry the weight of being unwanted for the dignity of the royal family. I am the doll created to keep the royal family desirable. I am an exotic flower planted in a field of domestic ones, dying to be picked, only to never be touched."
"That is a lie." Ah-Duo frowns. "You are not a doll. You are just a girl."
You laugh. "I am not just a girl."
"You are just a girl." She repeats herself, staring into your eyes. "You are a just a girl. You are a girl who does not deserve anything that is happening to her. You are a girl who was picked out of the hundreds of thousands of girls abandoned on the streets because your family could not afford to raise a girl. You are not a flower curated for the betterment of a boy who would never pick you. You are a girl, not a flower. not a doll."
Your eyes do not waver, and you break the silence with another dry laugh.
"I am a doll on display with the key around her neck." You smile. "But I thank you."
You miss the way her features soften with the pity you despise.
When spring comes back, you watch the merchants bring in new silk and the streets fill in with the season's specials. You pick out the fruit and ingredients for the newer dishes, testing them out after they are made, and nodding in approval for them to be tasted by the rest of the consorts. Maomao helps you compile a list of ingredients that are not healthy or safe, and you look through them. Then, you send the ingredients out to the rest of the palace alongside the supplier.
Some days, you forget that you are an existence. Some days, you forget you have influence in the palace.
"Madam, what about this one?"
You turn to Maomao, and she shakes her head.
"No." You reject right away.
You wonder what made you change your mind about Maomao. You suppose it is pity that you do not have to give. You pity her for having to put up with Jinshi. Yet, it is not something you worry about for the time being. You squat down as you take your feet out of your shoes, grimacing at the sores on your feet from the shoe size that is too small.
Maomao takes note of it, shaking her head.
"You do not bind your feet, but you force them to stop growing."
"It is no different." You smile. "Your feet remain unbound, do they?"
"They do. I have no need to bind them. Granny did not request of it either."
"That checks out." You smile. "I do not bind them but keep my shoe size small out of my own volition.
"You should stop doing that." She pauses. "Not to sound presumptuous, but shoe size does not matter to Jinshi."
You blink, eyes going wide in amusement as you laugh. "You are as straightforward as the maids warn me."
Maomao bows her head in apology.
"Don't worry about it." You smile. "You are to be the lady of this residence soon, after all."
"I do not wish to." She shudders. "Ever since he... I do hope he regains interest in you."
"There is no way he was interested in me in the beginning." You hum. "It is really that simple."
"You have stopped deluding yourself—" Maomao slaps a hand over her mouth. "Apologies."
You laugh more, lips pulled into a wide laugh. "I quite like you."
She blinks at you cattily. "Please do not."
You shrug. "I understand why Jinshi would find you entertaining. I heard he proposed to you. One of the maids overheard it."
"I do not want him, if that soothes you. It is an honest statement as well." Maomao nods.
"I know that much." You hum. "Unfortunately, men in power tend to coerce women for their gain. If you do not wish for it, you may always let me know. I hold little power over Jinshi, but I hold heavy power over the words heard by these walls."
"You are powerful." She points out. "Yet you are so empty."
"So I've been told." You hum. "Those go over there. Keep that one away from the pure consort. She is unable to have those."
"Yes madam."
"Is there a reason you lack?"
"I do not know how to be anything but empty." You shake your head. "It is one of the many reasons Jinshi does not desire me."
"I believe he seems parts of you in me."
"No." You reject the idea near immediately. "We are not similar to that degree. Jinshi does not have the brain to think of us in that way. He is better than his father."
"The late emperor."
"The dead one."
Maomao shudders. "Children."
"Those poor children." You snort. "I was almost one of them."
"You are not that old."
"The late emperor saw me in the same way he saw the late empress. He was on his last years when the late empress took me in and raise me beside Jinshi." You shake your head. "Had I been born just a little earlier, I would have been sent in as a poor girl to be defiled by the emperor."
Maomao grimaces. "Did you fall in love with Jinshi at first sight?"
"No. I had just been taught that the only man I should look at is Jinshi." You hum. "Halt. What is that?"
The merchant shows you the signed form and hands you a sample, and you frown at the taste, handing the other half to Maomao.
"No."
"You heard her. No." You wave the merchant off, and he gasps, frown on his face.
"It is incredible." Maomao looks at the guards drag the man away. "A single word from you is the equivalent of a royal decree."
"The late empress had this power bestowed on me, after all." You mumble. "I am not someone who has ever had power that belonged to me."
"Can you eat poison?"
"The vast majority of them." You hum. "I was fed them while growing up."
"You seem to be everything at once. You are constituted with all the knowledge there is to offer, yet you are empty inside."
"I am composed of materialistic things." You hum. "I am composed of knowledge. I am the closest thing to perfection, I suppose. Whatever that means."
"A subjective perfection of the late empress regnant."
"Yes." You laugh. "I am a shell created to hold things. I am not constituted of anything that makes a person a person."
"Other than the physical features, I suppose." Maomao mumbles. "Yet, you are quite the enigma. You have a personality and something. You are like a dam that is waiting to explode. You are a pot of medicine simmering, waiting to boil over and become what you need to be. Ah. My apologies. I must have come off as rude."
You shake your head, lips in a smile. "So? Did you understand what to do?"
"I did." She nods. "My greatest appreciations for you for showing me. I hope I never have to take over this position."
You only laugh.
That is inevitable. The pin had already been passed on to her, after all.
But as your eyes trail to her and then to yourself, you wonder. Perhaps the two of you are just parallels of each other.
Maybe you are.
Who knows.
In summer, you see Maomao again, going for tea with consort Gyokuyou.
"I missed you." She smiles. "Sit."
"How is the baby?"
"Good." She nods. "Ah. Your shoes have changed."
You smile. "You can thank your maid for that."
"They must be much more comfortable."
"Yes." You nod. "I will never be desired by Jinshi, yet he will never throw me away, so I may as well give myself a little more leeway."
"That is good. "She smiles. "The new dish you approved for eating was delicious, for your reference."
"I'm glad." You smile. "Maomao helped make that one."
"Oh, really? I am so lucky to have such a capable maid next to me." She giggles.
"Yeah." You hum, lips curled into a smile. "She's great. I'm sure she'd make for a great lady of the house."
"Are you to leave?"
"You heard of the proposal, yes?"
She doesn't react, but that itself is an answer.
"It is only a matter of time." You hum.
"I speak for all the consorts, but we will miss you."
"Thank you." You smile pitifully. "I am grateful for your care over the years."
"We are grateful for your management." She smiles. "So? Have you planned for where to go?"
"The streets." You wink at her, laughing.
She does not reciprocate, and you stop your laughter, eyes closed and lips pulled into a smile as you hum. "It's a secret. Though, I will be around."
"Will you?"
"You will see me in the trees, the breeze, and the wheat." You hum. "I will be in the wind, the sky, the clouds. You will see traces of me everywhere, simply because my blood and sweat has been poured into the imperial palace."
"Perhaps it is time for you to be freed." She hums, lips pulled into a smile. "A journey for the self."
"Rather than that." You hum. "Perhaps it is simply time to let go of Jinshi."
"Does the empress still haunt you?"
"No." You hum. "I am slowly unlearning the need for a husband."
"Then you will become a courtesan?"
"Perhaps I shall simply be employed as a maid instead." You mumble. "I would not be against such."
"Dress as a man and become an assistant." She laughs.
You smile. "Perhaps that is my new role in this narrative."
"Or, perhaps it is simply time for you to be freed from the grasps of the palace." She smiles. "Please take care of yourself."
"I will. After all, I am still a doll for the royal family."
"Darling. You are just a girl."
You do not answer to it this time.
In fall, you have tea with Maomao.
The two of you sit in your tearoom with snacks, and she looks around anxiously, almost as if she were worried about something pouncing on her.
"There have been more assassination attempts on Jinshi lately." She mumbles.
"And you?"
"and I." She mumbles. "I do not understand why."
"Perhaps the emperor is making a move." You hum. "Or perhaps it is one of the consorts."
"I do not know." Maomao mumbles. "It is almost as if it were the calm before the storm."
You hum. "There is a storm brewing, alright."
An arrow pierces through the window as you knock the tea to the ground to hide Maomao with your body. Another one misses you narrowly, and you reach for the blanket on the bed, thick with cotton and warmth as it stops the arrow. Maomao stares up at you, heart racing in her chest, expression unchanging. This is what she meant. You are a force to be reckoned with. You possess the knowledge far beyond the abilities of the average consort, yet you are not acknowledged simply because the one to acknowledge you does not do so. You reach behind her for the sword under the bed, unsheathing it with ease as you slide out of the blanket, jumping out the window to chase after the assassin.
You are everything at once.
Your footsteps are light with each jump, and you swing from the branches as you knock him onto the ground, sword pressed to his neck, slicing through clean as you land with a thud in the pond. The ducks fly away as you land, water all over your robes, the blood from the decapitation bleeding into the water. The water stains your dress red from the blood, and you pant above him, pulling the sword away as you stand up to run a hand through your hair. The sun burns against your back as you throw your head back to breathe, eyes closed as Maomao's footsteps catch up to you.
"Are you injured?"
"No." You shake your head, showing her your hands. "though, these are roughed up."
"I will prepare ointment." She nods.
"Madam!" The maids yell. "Are you alright?!"
"Fine." You nod. "Fetch a change of clothes."
"We shall prepare it. Do you need to be bathed?"
"No." You shake your head. "No need. Perhaps just wash my feet."
They nod, and you hold your hand out for Maomao to apply ointment.
"Maomao!" Jinshi calls. "There you are! What are you doing here?"
You glance at him, nodding, head held down as he excuses you.
"Your sleeves are bloodied!" He reaches for her wrists, and she pulls away with a harsh tug.
"An assassin was after me." Maomao continues sliding the balm against your palm. "Your betrothed saved me."
"...thank you." Jinshi nods at you.
"You owe me one now." You nudge Maomao with a raise of your brows. "Better find a way to pay me back."
"I'll let you marry Jinshi." She deadpans, shuddering.
"Maomao!" Jinshi's jaw drops in hurt.
You laugh. "He won't let me marry him."
"Tsk. Worth a try." Maomao grumbles.
"Madam! The clothes!"
You nod in response, smiling as Maomao is taken away once the maids pull you to rid you of the blood.
You do not despise Maomao, but you do not deserve that lack of attention that Jinshi gives you either.
You are just a girl. You do not deserve this.
Jinshi talks to you this time.
He comes to the residence after being ordered to by the emperor, and he stares at you with your sleeves rolled up in the winter snow arranging the flowers. He does not know what to feel for you. You are his betrothed whom he does not visit, but he is your betrothed whom you do not talk to first. Perhaps it is simply excuses on his end. You do not know what he would think, after all. He was clearly in love with Maomao.
"You could have a gardener tend to such flowers." Jinshi speaks up, and you jump in your skin, visibly surprised to see him in the residence.
"J-Jinshi." You mumble, eyes wide.
"You are dirtying your clothes." He mumbles.
"Is it despicable?" You look up at him, eyes tired.
"It is foreign." He whispers back. "Though, it is not unwelcome."
"I see." You go back to the plants, tending to the roses.
"The emperor... is requesting the two of us for tea."
"I figured you have come for something and not for me." You stand up, dusting off your dress as Jinshi offers his hand to help you back onto the pathing.
You do not take it.
"What have you been up to?"
Jinshi tries to make small talk. You chuckle.
"Not much. I have only been tending to the plants in the garden."
"What about the rooms?"
"They have been filled with warm blankets for the winter." You hum. "The lanterns are all lit since it would be darker earlier in the day, and the walls have been repainted for the season."
"I see." He pauses. "And the salaries of the maids?"
"I have already taught Maomao. Fear not." You glance at the passing maids whisper to one another about you. "When will you be announcing it?"
"I will not be announcing it." He shakes his head. "Once my position is stable, then I will announce it."
"I see." You hear something rustle in the distance, choosing to ignore it as the two of you stop before the emperor's tearoom.
"Announcing the arrival of the second prince and his betrothed!"
"Enter." The emperor speaks from the inside.
The two of you step into the room, bowing to the emperor as he orders for you both to rise.
"Princess." he nods at you. "You have grown yet again."
You nod back. "I have."
"It is great to see." He nods. "Take a seat."
The both of you sit as the doors are shut, and you wait for the emperor to drink his tea.
"Did Jinshi tell you what we are discussing?"
"No." You shake your head.
"Jinshi wishes to marry Maomao." The emperor addresses the problem immediately, and you are reminded of Lady Ah-Duo.
"I am aware." You hum.
"Yet, he does not wish to break off your engagement."
"I am not as open minded to accept a second wife despite the allowance of a harem for the royal family." You chuckle dryly. "Besides. Jinshi only wishes for Maomao to be his wife."
"Yes. I only wish to be wed to Maomao."
"Well, Jinshi." The emperor sighs. "It's a shame, but we cannot break off your engagement to..."
"I am aware."
You hear something rustle again, and a flurry of footsteps rush outside of the door.
The servant yells.
"Maomao has been kidnapped!"
Somewhere in the distance, a rope snaps.
You are a girl You are just a girl You are just... a girl.
You get up and apologize for Jinshi's behavior as he runs out of the room to grab the servant to ask for details, and the emperor shakes his head. You hand Jinshi the seal of his army to him from your pocket, and you watch as he rushes off without a thank you. You stare at him bitterly and miss the way he turns back to look at you. Instead, you turn back to see the emperor staring at you pitifully, and you nod as you call for a maid to bring you into the bathhouse. You need a massage and a break. You need a moment to yourself. You need to relax. Your blood pressure was rising and you were struggling to gauge your importance.
You can say you know Jinshi does not care all you want, but living it is still a different experience.
So, as the maids leave you alone in the bathhouse, you cry, hurricane of tears breaking past your eyes as you cry into the bathwater, years of pain and anguish ricocheting off the walls as the birds outside the bathhouse fly away from your heartbreak. You are just a girl. Why does it have to be you? You are just a girl. You are a girl with no background or home or past but you are just a girl and you should not have to let the world be carried on your back just because you are a girl. You should not be defined by the feelings of a man who does not care about you. You are a girl. You are a simple girl who does not deserve anything that is happening to you.
You are a girl who was stolen from her family because the royal family desired a perfect empress. You are a girl who should not have to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders just because she was unfortunate enough to be picked for a job that did not suit her. Why did you have to be the one who has to fall in love with a man who does not love you back and be stuck being in love with him? He does not want you. He has made that clear enough. It does not matter if he would turn around to look at you one day. You would never be picked first.
You are just a girl.
You do not deserve any of this.
So, you stand up in the bathwater as it splashes with your movement, and you rearrange your robes into something moveable before you break past the doors of the bathhouse, footsteps heavy and undignified as you run through the pathing that you've stained with your sweat and love, past the gates that had welcomed you since birth, and you run, wind in your hair icing your scalp in the summer breeze, panting and gasping for air as you run through the streets and cry, losing a shoe on the way, tears still spilling past your eyes, mouth open to breathe, ignoring all the weird looks from the people on the streets as you run into the pathing in the forest and leave. You are free.
Free from the cage you had been locked in since birth, key left behind on the door as you end up somewhere you know will be better.
It does not matter to you anymore.
You are free.
Jinshi does not know what prompts him to visit you when he returns with Maomao. Perhaps it was because of the pain on your face when he had run away from you in order to go save Maomao. Perhaps it had been the realization while saving Maomao that you had given him one of the only powers you held over him without hesitation. Perhaps you had just handed it to him because you wanted him to see you once he returned. Regardless of your mission, he visits you.
When Jinshi steps foot into your residence after saving Maomao, your maids are rushing around the palace yelling at one another.
"Jinshi-sama!" A maid catches him, grabbing onto his armor in a panicked state as he blinks down at her in surprise.
"What?"
"Do you know where the young madam went?!" She cries, genuine fear and worry leaking all over her face as her cheeks are read from the cold and running around. "We've been searching all over for her since she disappeared from the bathhouse while we weren't looking! She's been missing since your leaving, and we assumed that she would return since she had been visiting the streets more and more often and perhaps had gone to visit her parents' graves, but it has been long and she still has not returned! Do you know where she could be?!"
Jinshi furrows his brows.
Missing. You're missing. You are missing.
You, who did not step foot outside of the residence unless it was to have tea with the consorts, was missing.
"I do not know." Jinshi shakes his head. "Where does she frequent in the streets?"
"We sent maids, but they—"
"We finally found the madam's shoe!" A maid yells from the entrance, holding up something in her hand. "Come!"
The maids all crowd around her as she reveals your shoe, and Jinshi grimaces.
It is your shoe. Your shoe, muddied, bloodied, wet with water. Your shoe, that was typically a size too small.
The maids all grimace at the sight, staring up at Jinshi for confirmation.
"Keep searching. She must be there somewhere." He turns away, brows furrowed. "She could not have gotten very far. She has been nurtured by the palace, so surely she is somewhere within reach."
The maids scramble to look, the sun turning it morning, Jinshi searching with them, quietly praying that you would return once the sun did. The sun returns once, twice, and then too many to count with his hands. The sun returns time and time again, and you do not.
You do not, and the maids sent to the streets also come back with no avail.
Even with Maomao asking the lower-ranked maids, you do not return.
You are gone.
Whether it is you have passed or you are missing, it makes no difference.
You are gone.
"I shall prepare for her ceremony." He closes his eyes, brows furrowing.
That is all they need to hear.
You haunt every corner of Jinshi's life.
He moves into the residence you left behind shortly after your burial ceremony, and he brings everything with him. He touches nothing you arranged, only bringing his personal items and work, and he sits in your tearoom each afternoon to work on the papers handed to him by the emperor. He drinks your favorite tea because he finds himself slowly losing his sanity with each passing moment that you do not manage the residence.
He is fully capable, but he is just not as well-versed in it as you are.
It drains him more than he'd like. Maomao is still a maid despite the purchase of her as a consort, and he does not wish to overwhelm her. He still very much loves her, he believes, but he supposes losing a huge part of his childhood is even worse in some way. He had chosen to neglect you, but it did not mean he did not cherish you. He could not count the times when you had linked pinkies with him at formal events with the emperor and empress while the two of you stood tall all because you were to be a certain way at a certain place.
Eventually, the two of you had outgrown the need to hold hands or pinkies in official events.
Though, that wasn't the only thing he had to thank you for. He was not a gifted child. He watched you speed through the materials and still have time to play with him, and it made him bitter. He was bitter. You had always been groomed to be perfect and desirable, and it only made him despise you more. Perhaps he had avoided you because you were too put together and perfect. He did not despise you. He does not despise you. In fact, dare he say it, he might have even loved you and forced himself to bury it away.
He could not love you the way you deserved to be loved. You deserved the position of empress, not the position of a eunuch's wife. You did not deserve to be warped into the madness of the royal family in the way that you did. He had made the mistake with you, so he would not make the mistake with Maomao. His heart sours in his chest. Perhaps he had been a liar. He had only avoided you to avoid the pain in his heart. He had been a coward afraid of hurting you only to hurt you more. He is a coward.
He groans, head buried in his papers as Maomao comes in with his dinner.
"You look awful."
Jinshi shifts his head to the side to look at Maomao, closing his eyes again afterward. Her filter around him had disappeared ever since you had left. He does not know if he is thankful or not.
Things have changed since your disappearance.
The maids have all stopped referring to anyone as the madam of the house, only waiting for Maomao to officially give Jinshi an answer to his proposal, and Jinshi has become the master of the house, much different to when they referred to him as Jinshi-sama. He is no longer someone underneath you in the residence that he was to live in with you. He is now the only person who was given a proper status in a palace of such. He groans when he remembers that he has more paperwork. Perhaps you should have been given less to do in the residence.
"Still no news?" He grumbles.
"No." Maomao hums. "She would hate you if you starved yourself like this."
"She did not even know I skipped meals occasionally."
"She did." Maomao refutes. "All of your meals were looked over by her. Your meals had the highest nutrition out of all the meals."
"She did not do that." Jinshi sighs, getting out of your desk to sit at the table. "She did not do that for me."
"She did." Maomao sets the food before him. "It could have only been her. She was the one who let things in and out of the kitchen. She had your allergies memorized like the back of her hand."
"I was such an asshole to her." Jinshi groans.
"You were."
"You're supposed to comfort me as my betrothed!" Jinshi cries.
"I am not your betrothed." Maomao shrugs. "Please get back to work once you finish eating. Gaoshun is asking when this month's report will be ready."
"Please tell him his master is going to kill himself." Jinshi groans. "I can't even bring in an aide because this residence is so secretive."
"I may introduce someone to you." Maomao offers.
"You know people other than me? It cannot be a woman."
"It will not be." Maomao affirms.
Jinshi contemplates it. You had been bred and raised for the purpose of being an ideal wife, so you managed all the numbers and reports of your shared residence despite Jinshi being in charge of a handful of matters. They seemed trivial to him back then, but now that he has to wait for those numbers to reach him, he finds that perhaps you were going through much more than you letting him know about. Not even the maids would tell him how often you were holed up in your office.
Though, according to your maids, you had barely struggled with it, your estimations always on point, even when Jinshi handed you bills late.
For you to be so much better than Jinshi.
How infuriating of you.
"Jinshi." Maomao speaks from the door. "I have brought a eunuch as your new assistant."
"I do not need one." He grumbles. "I am fine on my own."
"No. He is to help manage the estate." Maomao doesn't let him argue, opening the door to reveal his new aide.
The man nods at him, bowing his head. "I greet my new master. My name is Diu."
"There is no need for that." He shakes his head. "Are you well versed in the matters of the house?"
"There is no person who is better versed than I am." He nods. "I assure you."
Jinshi sighs. "Training shall start tomorrow."
"Yes, master."
Jinshi finds that his new aide is just as quick with numbers and things of the residence as you were, fingers fast and calculations smooth, speeding up the process for Jinshi. When he asks how he knew, he smiles at him, telling him that he had helped his wife with her household matters in order to alleviate the stress of being pregnant. Jinshi doesn't pry, but his aide looks too young to be a man capable of such wise thought. He looks too delicate, jaw too smooth and lashes too long. Had Jinshi been any more manic, he might have accused his aide of actually being a woman.
He tilts his head as he watches his aide look over the papers and speak up.
"Master Jinshi, do you have the scroll for the reimbursement report?"
Jinshi nods, handing him the scroll as Diu scribbles down the numbers, handing it to Maomao with a nod as she wanders off to hand it off to another official.
"Please call for me when the next report is due." Diu nods, about to follow her out.
"Are you not a personal aide?"
"I was told by Sister Maomao that I am only to help with the matters of the mansion."
"You... should arrange the guest rooms." Jinshi grumbles. "Please. Are you well versed in the other matters of the house?"
"I am." Diu nods. "Leave the matters of the estate to me."
"Maomao." Jinshi calls for her as she appears at the door. "Diu will be helping you with the affairs of decorating."
She nods. "Shall we go?"
"We shall." Diu smiles, and Jinshi's stomach churns uncomfortably.
He smiles the same way you do.
How nauseating.
How long had it been since you had smiled at him? You had only smiled at Maomao, lips curled into a teasing one, never staring at Jinshi when you had. Perhaps that was his flaw. He was cursed to see parts of you in other people until he could own up to his own emotions. Perhaps he was much too similar to you. Perhaps he is just a boy. Perhaps he just misses what you could have been had he spoken to you. Perhaps he should have reminded you that you were not alone.
You left him, but he forced you to the door, giving you the key you had been taught to never use.
Perhaps he had been the push to force you to leave.
How sickening.
Jinshi finds that Maomao gets along with Diu much more than makes him comfortable.
Maomao discusses and lingers around Diu often, fingers brushing his skin as he leans down to let her wipe the fallen lash from his cheek, a flirty smile on his lips when she pulls away. Maomao does not react. She never does. Yet, it makes Jinshi uncomfortable. He no longer knows if it's how eerily similar Diu is to you or how Diu keeps making a move on Maomao, but it makes his skin crawl uncomfortably each time he comes to Maomao's aide, reprimanding you and reminding you to keep your hands off of her as she was his only love.
"My apologies."
It is the same thing over and over again.
Jinshi finds that the more Diu flirts with Maomao, the less he wants Maomao, his jealous streak overtaken by habituation, and eventually he finds himself just staring until the two are uncomfortable. Maomao seems far too comfortable with Diu's movements, and Jinshi finds it infuriating. So, Jinshi steps in one day, pulling on Diu's wrist as he cages Maomao into the wall.
"Perhaps the master would prefer for me to romance him instead?" Diu pins Jinshi to the wall instead, tilting his head with his fingers, lips curled into a teasing smile. Jinshi flushes red, a shudder rippling down his back at the sight of the shorter pining him to the wall. Maomao watches from the side in amusement, lips curled upward with a cheeky grin as Jinshi eyes her for help.
"My eyes are here, young master," Diu tilts his head again, lips curled into a sweet smile. "Cheating on me already? I'm your servant before I am hers, you know?"
Jinshi shudders, cheeks red as Diu turn to Maomao, a victorious smile on his face.
"Master, it is time for..." Gaoshun trails off, pulling Diu off of Jinshi. "What are you doing?!"
"The master got jealous I was hitting on Maomao." Diu smiles.
Jinshi leaves, glancing behind him at Diu, heart racing in his chest as he tries to calm his cheeks. He is breathtaking, that eunuch. His aide has a beauty that could rival his. He would stop interfering. If he were to get hit on again... heavens knows what kind of atrocities he would commit. Diu is too strong. No wonder the maids in the palace had been flocking to get a look at his face. Maybe that was why he was dethroned as one of the most attractive men in the court. Diu was simply too attractive for his own good.
God, maybe he is a homosexual.
The thought rips through his body as his lips pull down in concern, blinking slowly at the revelation. Damn. Has he stooped this low? Was he willing to go so low as to fall for a man who reminded him of you? Maybe Jinshi was losing his mind. Perhaps this is what the matchmaker meant by he would suffer greatly if he were to lose his yin. He had tried not to touch you, but he had only hurt you instead. He was losing his mind to the point that he was getting flustered over men.
Diu really does things to him. You do things to him.
The man's fingers remind Jinshi of yours as well, reminders of years that are lost in his memory, years when the two of you would hold hands under tables and before the empress, years when he would watch you practice dances with your teachers, hair fluttering in the wind as you moved like a princess. It reminds him of years when you would be able to fit in your shoe size and walk without pain, when you were still young and a child, crying about not wanting to bind your feet.
You got your wish, but your shoe size had still been shrunk one size down to try and prevent your feet from growing.
Sooner than later, you lost your ability to dance.
Jinshi wonders if Diu would be able to do it. His body is slim enough for the dance, and had he been there when the foreign envoys were visiting, perhaps he could have taken Jinshi's place. Swimming in the dress was a nightmare. Perhaps Diu could have worked the same. He has the face for it. Oh, how convenient. Jinshi would no longer need to dress up as a woman with Diu around.
"The next time we have to do female imitation... we are calling Diu." Jinshi shudders.
Gaoshun raises a brow.
Jinshi shakes his head.
Perhaps if Jinshi were desperate enough, he could doll Diu up to resemble you and hold him for the night. As long as the words did not get out, he would be alright. If he were desperate enough, he would sleep in your room, covered by your blanket, engulfed by your faded scent. The scent of summer flowers and a young love. If Jinshi were desperate enough, he could send more soldiers to find you. But Jinshi is not desperate enough.
Not yet. He is not desperate enough yet.
He may be sick to his head thinking about you, but he is not desperate.
There is a crowd of consorts outside of Jinshi's window.
No. Not for him, surprisingly. For Diu.
"Diu-sama!! Look our way!!" The women yell, and Diu looks up from his desk, a smile on his face, waving gently. Both Jinshi and Maomao grimace, frown on their faces at his friendliness. Jinshi finds that Diu has an effect worse than he does. Perhaps this is his karma for playing along with the consorts every now and then. No wonder Maomao found him infuriating when he did so.
"Diu." Maomao hisses.
The man nods, leaning out the window to smile at the women, sighing. "Do you mind giving us some space? We need to finish the report for this month and my master is having quite the moment, you know?"
A girl faints, but the rest of them ultimately scatter off, and you hum, shutting the window.
"The total has been written down."
Maomao hands Jinshi a scroll, and Jinshi nods.
"Diu, is there a reason you never write the reports?"
"Whatever do you mean? I wrote them during summer, no?" You tilt your head. "Master Jinshi, you told me to stop writing them because my writing was not legible."
Jinshi does not remember that, but doesn't argue.
"Let's go for a break today." You pull Maomao out of her seat, smiling at Jinshi. "Master, will you be joining us?"
Jinshi groans. "please."
Diu offer him a hand, and he takes it, his hand strangely familiar in his grasp. It makes him feel nostalgic, almost. It feels like when he used to hold your hand during ceremonies with the royal court. Yet, he is not you. Diu is not you. So, Jinshi pushes the feelings back as he is led through the streets, lights vibrant as he stops at stalls for snacks and food.
Maomao runs out of coins at one point, and Diu offers him more, but she shakes head. She has some things she could trade for coins. She does so, pulling a pin out of her pocket and exchanging it for a bag of coins, a grin on his face. "let's get going."
"What do you even need so many coins for?" Diu raises a brow, picking one up.
"Master doesn't have copper coins."
"Excuse you! I do!" Jinshi tries to argue.
"It's why he has not yet bought anything."
Diu purses his lips in amusement, laughing.
Jinshi thinks he sounds like bells ringing.
How nostalgic.
Almost as if you were there standing there before him. He misses you, perhaps. He misses what the two of you were, and what you could have been had he picked you first. The guilt eats at him more and more, and it seems as though he could open his mouth and confess that he had a burning desire for you. It was almost as if he could have picked you from the start and none of this would have occurred.
"Diu." Jinshi calls. "Are you married?"
"Why? In love with me already, master?" Diu winks, blowing him a kiss.
Jinshi shudders, cheeks red, head ringing. Flirt.
"No. You have the same mannerisms as someone, and many say that a husband resembles his wife." Jinshi shakes his head. "You remind me of someone."
"The one that got away? I will be." Diu laughs as Maomao grabs him and runs off as Jinshi chases them. "Perhaps that is simply my role in this narrative!"
You.
Diu reminds him of you. So Jinshi finds it ironic that he chases after a man who resembles you in the streets of the city outside of the palace walls. Perhaps the two of you would have done something similar in another universe. He would have chased you in the streets, and the two of you would have been free to do whatever without the weight of the palace. Perhaps you would have been worth more in your own eyes, and he would have cared more for you during the time you would have been with him.
Perhaps you would have chosen to stay with him in that universe.
Perhaps he would be less bitter then, too.
In spring, the silkworms produce new silk, and the products from the merchants come in. Jinshi observes them, ultimately unable to tell the difference between certain ones because of his lack of practice, and Maomao can only stand and blink, unused to picking them herself. Instead, she steps back for Diu to look at them, the man's fingers feeling at the fabric as he raises a brow.
"These seem to be cheap quality. Are you trying to rip off the palace?" The man raises a brow.
"N-no way!"
"The threading is different one from the one currently present." Diu clicks his tongue. "This is the one commonly used for the middle class."
"A-are you not middle class? The funds mentioned to me a-are less than before." The merchant cowers slightly as Maomao hands Diu the invoice.
"No. The funding has not changed this season."
"Ah, well, surely the inflation has—"
"Nope. The economic state of the capital has not changed either. If you want a couple extra coins just say it." Diu groans. "We can always change suppliers. My family has quite the good one, you know?"
The merchant rolls his eyes. "These are the same blankets as the rest of the palace. If you don't want them—"
Maomao steps up. "The empress uses different ones from a different supplier. Had we needed low-quality textiles as this, we would have talked to the maids."
The merchant scoffs in offense. "What do you know—"
"I know that the palace uses a different supplier because you started cheating the main palace years ago." Diu speaks up, stepping close to the merchant. "Would you like us to switch too? We could formally decree you to be banned from the palace."
"Y-you're a mere servant. You wouldn't dare!"
Diu gives the man a closed-eye smile, and he grumbles, handing over the better blankets buried under the bad ones. The servants bring them in as Diu handles the money, and Jinshi blinks in surprise. He did not know the rest of the palace started using a new supplier. He had only known that Gyokuyou had changed merchants. Diu must have done very thorough research prior to picking up blankets.
"How could you tell?" Jinshi raises a brow.
"It wasn't imperfectly perfect." Diu shrugs. "Also, hand woven silk by the skilled is bound to have flaws, but this one had too many. They may have flaws, but their edges do not fray to this extent."
"Wow." Jinshi hums. "That is impressive."
"In order to be a husband deserving of my wife's noble title, I have to make up in other ways."
"Does your wife not have brothers?"
"No, she simply fell for my charm." Diu winks.
Maomao gags from the side. Though... not surprising.
"A shame you are a eunuch..." Jinshi trails off, eyes wandering. "You seem to be the type to have many sons."
Diu holds a hand over his mouth and his crotch, pretending to be scandalized. "Master! Are you... into me?"
"Nope." Jinshi turns on his heel. "Let us go."
"Where to?" Maomao follows anyway, shrugging when Jinshi doesn't answer Diu's question.
"Who did you hear palace affairs from?"
"I was wandering." Diu shrugs.
It's suspicious, but Jinshi doesn't pry further. After all, Maomao brought him in.
No matter how much Diu is suspicious, Jinshi could never bring you back anyway.
So even if Jinshi begged and sobbed and cried to the moon to return his lover, he could not have it. You had left him. You were gone. No matter how hard he looked, your body could be out in the cold and abandoned, eaten by the wolves or some other sort. It is awful. He could search all he wanted, sending all the guards he wanted, but he would not have you back. He could not live in such a way. You were gone, only your shoe left.
Perhaps Diu was sent by the heavens to remind him of you for the rest of his days.
It is his fault, after all.
There are reports of your ghost haunting the walls.
First, one of the younger ranking maids hear a girl crying in your old room, then an older maid sees a woman rush through the halls at night. Eventually Gaoshun spots a woman clothed in white dancing on the outer walls with Maomao. It is truly a terrifying sight. Jinshi tries his best to ignore it, but ultimate he sees you dancing on the outer walls of the palace as well. It is same position of the moon when Gaoshun and Maomao saw it, but you are dressed in red this time, wedding gown fluttering from your figure, phoenix crown pinned in your hair.
Jinshi stands and stares.
You dance, footsteps light as they used to be when you were but a child and Jinshi watched you in your classes, and your dress flutters in the wind, silk probably cool against your skin, and Jinshi stops to stare, some wretched form of longing on his face. It is nostalgic. It is everything he had once seen in you, your art, your beauty, your existence, all tucked into the back of his mind, threatening to spill over and ruin him. He watches you as you make the same steps you had so many years ago, your memory burning into his mind through his eyes as his conscious forces him to engrain every detail of your ghost into his mind.
The paleness of your skin to the sunken eyelids, to the bloody red that was on your lips with the red on your body. The makeup is fitting of a bride, yet the moon shining behind your body makes you look a mixture of grief and regret in Jinshi's eyes. You do not look down at him, almost as though lost in your own dance, too enthralled with the moon and its secrets as you kick your leg to spin and flutter through the air. Jinshi can do nothing as he look sup at you, exhaustion creeping up his body slowly, almost as though you were the moon herself despite the red on your body.
Your ghost is haunting him as a reminder that you are his wife. Your ghost is dancing to remind him of the day the two of you had been told to bed, but had not. Your ghost is driving him into a corner the same way he had driven you out the entrance. His mind is stuck staring and engraving it into his mind to forever regret you. His mind is stuck holding his chin up to stare at you as the metal in your hair jingles in the wind. His mind is stuck, and he refuses to fight against it.
Instead of stopping you, he stares, fingers stuck to his side as you spin and fall off the wall, and he climbs up, lashes fluttering as he stares down at where you would have fallen, only your dress remaining. He stares down, legs hanging from the wall, something pulling him to fall down with you, something urging him to leave with you. Your ghost tilts its head to run your fingers through his hair, lips brushing his as it urges him to fall down with it— fall down with you. Maybe that would be a way to right his wrongs and wash away his sins. He leans forward into your touch, fingers loosening on the wall.
"Master." Diu's voice breaks him from your trance, the man climbing up the wall after him. "Is something wrong?"
Jinshi blinks at where your ghost was, your fingers no longer on his cheek and your lips no longer brushing his. Ghosts do not exist. He was simply falling to an evil spirit's intentions. Diu had simply freed him. You would not have wanted him to pass away as easily as this. You would have wanted him to suffer through what you did. "I saw the madam."
"The previous owner of the residence?"
"Something like that." Jinshi mumbles. "Do you miss your wife?"
"More often than not." Diu sits next to the man, pulling out a bottle. "Wine?"
Jinshi accepts it, pressing the wine to his lips, legs hanging over the railing as he stares down, blinking slowly at the fabric. Your ghost is gone, yet the fabric still reaches for him. He could see you wearing it. Perhaps it was just a heavy memory of seeing you in all red, gold embroidery on your gown, lips pulled into a sweet smile despite the ever crumbling relationship that was threatening to snap between the two of you. Perhaps Jinshi had a rope somewhere as well.
"How do you cope with missing your wife?"
"She writes me letters." Diu smiles. "I simply reread them when I get lonely. Or, I send a bird for her."
Jinshi grumbles. "Must be nice to have a loving wife."
"A happy marriage goes both ways, master." Diu offers him more. "You must take care of your wife before she takes care of herself and leaves you."
"Do you think someone is doing this to mess with me?" Jinshi rests his cheek on his legs, pulling them closer to his chest as he holds his cup to the man. "I grieve for her loss. Is that not enough?"
"Perhaps they simply miss their madam." Diu hums. "Did the madam teach the servants?"
"There is no servant in the house who could dance the same way she did." Jinshi closes his eyes, wind rustling the branches behind him. The summer breeze is warm but not too warm. In the distance, in the residence, he can still hear the sound of your laughter as a child. You did not laugh enough as an adult around him. He does not know what you are. What does your laughter sound like now? Maybe you stopped laughing because of him.
He misses you.
"Master?"
"Diu." Jinshi mumbles, eyes closed. "If she comes, please wake me."
"Will do, master."
You never return after that, and Jinshi feels sick.
In fall, foreign envoys bring new mirrors. Diu accepts them and lead them to Jinshi, lips curled into a sweet smile as the mirrors are placed within the residences. The old mirrors had been ruined by a maid on accident, but it was not something worth fretting or worrying over. Jinshi stands in front of the mirror, looking at himself, raising a brow when Maomao and Diu peer from behind him at the reflection.
"I have not seen one in a solid minute." Maomao mumbles. "Diu, how about you?"
"My wife has one at home, but this small mirror would be helpful." Diu hums. "She will like it if we have a covering made for her as well."
Jinshi huffs dramatically loud at the word wife.
"What is not too light?" Maomao raises a brow.
"Perhaps a hollow metal." Diu hums. "I shall check the items she owns."
Jinshi huffs again.
"Sorry, master." Diu smiles, eyes closed, teeth out. "I forgot the madam is gone."
Jinshi is going to have an aneurysm because of Diu.
"I am convinced you are mentioning your wife to drive me insane."
"Perhaps." Diu hums. "I miss her very much, after all."
"Then why did you work here?"
"Master." Diu deadpans. "The pay here is incredible. My wife now has the ability to spend my wealth rather than her family's. Is every husband's dream not to spoil their wife rotten?"
"No." Jinshi grumbles. "Perhaps I should do that for the madam."
"The madam is gone." Maomao deadpans. "Perhaps focus on repainting the walls of the residence first."
"Was the report sent?"
"Not yet." Diu shakes his head. "We are missing a fund as the money has grown to be less."
"Perhaps it is for the repainting of the walls."
"I would assume that the repainting must be done during spring." Jinshi frowns. "Was it during fall?"
"I am not sure." Diu shakes his head. "Did the madam ever mention such?"
"It was fall." Maomao hums. "She complained that it should have been spring once, but she never changed it since it rains more in spring than in fall."
"How do the foreigners put it? April showers do bring May's flowers." Diu hums. "Perhaps the Madam had a reason."
"We can repaint it some other time."
"She would kill you." Maomao deadpans.
"She is not here."
"Does not change that she would kill you." Maomao deadpans. "Perhaps her ghost will return and ruin your life again."
Jinshi pauses. "Well, I do miss her."
Maomao blinks at him in concern.
"I shall put it on the report." Diu nods. "Anything else?"
"I believe that is it."
"Then, may I be released after? I would like to drop by somewhere."
Maomao raises a brow, but Jinshi does not question it.
"Of course. You are free for the rest of the day."
Maomao springs up in her seat. "May I follow?"
Diu nods.
"Going without me?"
"You will stand out too much." Diu deadpans. "We are visiting a teahouse."
"You have a wife!?" Jinshi shrieks, confusion all over his face.
"Not that kind." Diu deadpans.
"What will you be trying?"
"I heard they have a new treat." Maomao hums. "We have been saving for it."
"If you let me go I will pay."
"Hard pass." The two of them grimace.
"We don't lack the funds."
"We can pay."
Jinshi gasps, frowning as he watches the two leave the room when Diu finishes the report.
A plate of the new pastries rests on his desk the next day, but he still pouts and frowns.
He later realizes it's because you had once made the treat for him as kids. That was why he was so upset. Your memories with him haunted him each step he took in the mansion. Perhaps he should have reached for your ghost that day and fallen. Perhaps that would have sped up his fraying string, holding onto nothing as he had lost you.
Perhaps then, he would feel less awful.
In winter, Diu and Maomao help set up the new blankets. The wool is warm, and Maomao sighs, cheeks red from the cold. Diu takes off his coat, wrapping it around Maomao as she blows into her hands and sighs.
"Thank you." She mumbles. "It is cold."
"It is." Diu stares at the floor, pulling out a stone from his pocket to hand to Maomao. "A heated stone, perhaps?"
"Thank you." She mumbles, pulling her clothes open to pop the stone in with the rest. "It is cold. I do not remember the palace being this cold."
Diu goes quiet, glancing around.
"There used to be heated bricks underneath the wood here."
Maomao's eyes widen, neck snapping to look at her coworker.
"That was what I heard from the maids, though. I do not believe the maids told the master either." He shrugs. "How's the master?"
"It is report week." Maomao grimaces.
Diu shudders. "I am surprised he has not called for me yet."
"You remind him too much of the late madam." She shares a look with the man, only turning away when Jinshi yells from inside his office. "He prefers to not—"
"Someone call Diu!" He sobs, and Diu snorts.
"Late madam or not, perhaps desperate situations call for desperate measures." Diu nods, knocking on the door. "Master, I am outside."
The door opens, and Jinshi groans. "Diu! Why is this season's reimbursement report so much lower compared to the previous ones?!"
Jinshi's hair is disheveled, the poor man looking as though he hadn't slept in days. It is a new look to Diu, and it makes Maomao laugh. Diu steps next to him, observing the differences, pointing at the cost in insulation. "I heard from the maids the late madam heated bricks for winter underneath the wood."
"She did?"
"The maids mentioned it." Diu shrugs. "So?"
"Is that the only cost? Who is in charge of the bricks?"
"I am not aware." Diu shakes his head.
"The head maid refuses to tell me. Diu, please." Jinshi cries. "I am not well versed in this."
"In my residence, my wife would hire one of the servants to do so. Perhaps it could be found in their salaries."
Jinshi flips through the book as Diu checks everything over, and he cheers when he finds the maid. Jinshi misses you. You did this much better than he did, and though he had neglected you and the whole situation was his fault, it did not stop him from missing you. Your presence in the residence had simply been enough to him. Now, he had to live without you or your presence in a residence that was meant for two.
"Thank you, Diu." Jinshi grumbles, writing down the note on heating bricks, head slamming into the wood of your desk as Diu takes the report. "God, I miss her."
Diu smiles back, eyes closed, almost as though he were insincere.
In the shadow of Diu, Jinshi sees you.
That smile with his eyes closed reminded him of all the times you had smiled at the officials insincerely, abusing your power as the empress' favorite in order to get them rid of. Perhaps Jinshi is simply going insane because you are gone. The ghost of you haunts him everywhere, including in the body of the new aide. Perhaps it is simply divine punishment from the heavens above.
In the closed-eyed, tight-lipped smile of his new aide, he sees the ghost of you whose smile had changed from a sweet smile with your eyes on him, cheeks flushed, to a smile in which you had not even bothered to look at him, eyes closed and lips pulled upward, lacking the flush that he had grown up seeing. His fault. It is always his fault. There had not been a single moment in which he was right when it had come to you. He is to be despised. You had been right to run away. He will never deserve the love you had given him in the past.
Even if he were to cut his own string and tie it to yours, you could always cut him off of you, simply running away as you had previously. Perhaps it was simply his curse to be this way. He could never love you now that you were gone, and he was the only one to blame. He is the culprit of his own demise.
How loathsome of him.
In spring, Jinshi attends the royal court's meeting, lashes thick and full, blinking quickly to blink away his exhaustion. Waking up before the sun was never something worth it. He eats the dishes prepared, listening to the ministers and eunuchs talk about everything. Had you been next to him, he would have had a better time, at least focused for the sake of you, but you are not. Instead, he has Diu who has been testing his dishes, pretty face charming even the married men of the court. Had Diu been born a woman, perhaps he would have been stolen away instantly. Tis a great day for his personal aide to be a man.
Now that Jinshi thinks about it, it was the same with you.
You would be busy reading the material and participating, and the rest of the men would be busy ogling at you. You, who had been raised to be the palace flower, a woman in power worthy of standing next to the second prince. You had been worth far more than what those men could have paid to own you for. Perhaps the late empress was right to make you unattainable to the men of the court. It was disgusting— the way their eyes raked Diu's figure the same way they raked yours at the time. In his eyes, the men are no better than rabid animals. At least rabid animals were put down.
"Master?" Diu's voice snaps Jinshi out of his thoughts. "Is the dish not to your liking?"
"It is." Jinshi shakes his head. "I have not much an appetite."
"I see." Diu hums. "Shall I request something else?"
"No need." Jinshi finishes the rest of the dish, sighing as he puts his chopsticks down. "What is the next dish?"
"I believe it is pheasant."
Jinshi frowns staring at Diu's lips.
"Did Maomao put lipstick on you?"
"Hm? Is it strange?" Diu smiles, holding his cheek. "She said I should doll up a little as your personal attendant. Though, this isn't lipstick. I believe Maomao simply put something on my face."
Jinshi blinks slowly, mentally swatting away all his thoughts as the next dish arrives and Diu presses it to his lips, biting and chewing slowly. Jinshi stares at his lips, pale and pink, and he swallows unconsciously as Diu licks his lips, lips curled into a smile similar to Maomao's. The men of the court pay attention too, a strange charm emitting off of the servant's body. Enthralling. He looked enthralling, lips curled into that sinful grin. Next thing Jinshi knows, Diu is probably going to tell him it's poisonous like Maomao did years ago.
"You can't have this, master." He hums.
"Why not?" Jinshi swallows, throat dry all of a sudden.
"It is poisonous."
Called it.
The royal court goes into chaos as all the men spit it out, fooled by the way Diu had looked so elated at the flavor, and a handful of servants rush to their aid. Jinshi lunges at Diu as he bites the rest of the meat, punching him in the gut as Diu spits the meat out into Jinshi's hand.
"Are you crazy?!"
"Master, poisons do not affect me." Diu tilts his head, eyes wide. "Rest assured. The one who has tried to harm you will not get off free either."
Jinshi stares at him incredulously, lips pulled into a frown as he calls for a doctor to check the man. He taps his table impatiently as he waits for Diu to return, a new poison tester confirming that the pheasant was indeed poisonous. Jinshi watches as the new guy passes out and white foams from his mouth. How did... how did Diu almost swallow the pheasant without issue? Jinshi tries his best not to think about it, closing his eyes. Perhaps Maomao is just accustomed to people who taste poison without any effects.
Diu returns a little before the final dish is served, giving Jinshi a closed-eyed smile before he tastes the new dish. It is a palate cleanser this time. Jinshi watches in worry as Diu presses the spoon to his lips, eyes opening as he raises a brow. Jinshi cannot tell if it is a good raised brow or a bad one.
"Servant, is it poison?"
"No." Diu smiles. "It is simply delicious. You may have it, master."
Jinshi only has half, cheeks flushed as he hands the rest back to Diu, covering his mouth with his sleeve as he mouthes words at the man.
'Finish the rest.'
Diu does not complain, drinking straight from the bowl as he licks his lips, eyes bright and happy as he hands it to another servant.
"Thank you, master." He beams, smiling.
Jinshi's heart skips a beat.
How dangerous.
The rest of the court proceeds as normal, the report given by the workers, and the emperor nodding at the report. Nothing out of the ordinary. though, he notes the new numbers in spending. When you were there, they were lower. Perhaps a handful of officials are using the chance to steal money from the royal family now that you no longer look over the ledger before each payment. Jinshi should start investigating. Surely the crushing of the Shi clan should have served as a fair warning. Perhaps not.
Jinshi looks back to glance at Diu, the servant's eyes oddly sharp. Usually servants would have gotten bored at this point. Instead, Diu looks almost intrigued. He wonders what kind of an upbringing would have created a man who cared so much about monetary affairs of a palace. Though, it should have been clear since Diu had been the one hired to help with monetary affairs. His mathematical ability was incredible. Had Jinshi a child, he would have hired the man to teach his young his ways.
But in the same, Jinshi knows he would have not needed an outside teacher when you were right there. Should he had kids with you, you could cover the vast majority of teaching have you the time. You know the palace better than him at times. He wonders how you are, lips pulled into a frown as he focuses back on the minister. Perhaps Maomao had given Diu the same makeup you used to wear to mess with him. How mean of her. It pains him in the heart that he had been the one to cut your rope and now was burning his own.
He misses you.
Summer is great.
Jinshi has less work during summer as a result, and Diu and Maomao cover the affairs of rearranging the residence. The two are still close. It makes Jinshi bitter, but not bitter in the way he would have been seasons ago, he is bitter that Diu is spending less and less time with him. Perhaps he is bitter that Diu, a man who reminded him of you, spends more time with Maomao than he. It is a reflection of himself, yes, but it does not stop the childish jealously that bubbles in his chest.
"Diu!" Jinshi whines, calling for the servant as he throws open the man's room.
The room is empty, but a familiar scent flutters through the air, knocking the nostalgia right into his lungs. The incense sticks burning are the ones you used to put in the residence. During the few times Jinshi would visit, this scent would always be present in your room, your hair, and your being. This scent was you to him. He finds it strange that Diu would have it in his room, but he does not question it. Perhaps it reminds him of his wife.
"Master? What are you doing in my room?"
Jinshi freezes, caught red-handed. "...I was looking for you." He coughs. "Where were you?"
"I went to run errands with Maomao." Diu bows. "Is something wrong? You were looking at the incense sticks."
"They remind me... anyway." Jinshi tries to stroll out casually. "Is that your favorite scent?"
"My wife." Diu smiles. "It reminds me of my wife."
"I see..." Jinshi trails off. "Whatever! Be sure to tell Maomao to bring me dinner."
Diu calls an affirmative after Jinshi as he rushes out of the room. Too much like you. The scent smelled too much like you. You, who had used perfume oils because you liked it. It reminded Jinshi of your scent for as long as he had known you, the signature smell that brushed his nose apparent for as long as his memories with you would run. Perhaps he would forget about you at night.
Night strikes slowly.
The grief of losing you hits Jinshi slowly.
First, he looks around the room you had prepared for the two of you, the room you had stayed in alone, fingers brushing on the paint on the wall, a reminder that he needed to call for the painters to repaint the residence. Then, he sits down in bed, robes warm on his skin, eyes tired as he lays down. His fingers brush the silk the same way you would have while inspecting the quality, the same way he had seen Diu do so to the blankets, and he holds it to his forehead, heart stuttering and stumbling, pain in his chest too much to bear. It was simply too much.
Then, he cries.
Jinshi cries, tears slow as he lays in your bed, holding the blankets to his chest as he whimpers, missing you. You. You who had lived in the residence for years without a visit from him. He is undeserving of you. Perhaps he would be cursed to live the rest of his days crying in the same bed you had to cry in. He would be dammed for all of eternity to never see you again. Perhaps that is his curse. He is simply too weak to admit his love, too prideful to bend down first, too lost to find his way again. He wanted nothing to do with you when you traded the whole world for him. His curse would be to never hold you again, even when he needed you the most.
He sniffles, brows pulled together as he clings harder onto the blanket.
He does not notice the footsteps outside the door nor the knocking from Diu.
"Master Jinshi? Are you alright? I hear crying." Diu's voice rings from the door. "I may bring tea if you would allow it. That helps me when I am hurt."
"It is fine." He speaks, voice oddly even.
"I shall bring you a cup of tea and towel to help freshen up. We could not afford to let the master of the house's beauty be wounded." Diu speaks, stepping and walking off.
Jinshi wipes his tears with his fingers, heaving. When Diu returns, he opens the door after a quick knock, setting the tea on the table as he sits by his bed, helping Jinshi up, eyes gentle, hands wiping at his tears with the cloth, and Jinshi sniffs. Diu's eyes remind him of yours, even. The same gentle shade he had grown up seeing, the same shade that sparkled under the sun's light or the moon's reflection. It is a haunting memory of you. Perhaps the two of you are from the same lineage. Or perhaps Jinshi was simply losing it.
"Diu."
"Yes, master?"
"Are you this gentle with your wife?"
"But of course."
Jinshi sighs dramatically. "Maybe in another life I was born your wife."
Diu snorts. "That would be quite hard, master."
"Why?"
"What if I were born a woman as well?"
"Then I would be born your husband." He pouts, eyes red as he stares at the man. "What tea did you bring?"
"Green tea." Diu hums. "Will you drink it?"
"Please." Jinshi frowns. "Could I meet your wife one day?"
"That would be quite hard." Diu frowns, carrying the tray over and setting it down by the bed.
"Why so?"
Diu does not speak, handing the cup to Jinshi instead, smiling.
"Is she gone?"
"It is hard to explain." Diu hums. "Master, let me know if you require anything else."
"No." Jinshi shakes his head, drinking the tea. It's slightly sweet and brewed to perfection.
It tastes like the tea you used to brew.
It brings tears to his eyes unconsciously, a frown on his face. You had learned to brew tea to perfection. The temperature had been right, you had served them in their little cups, lips pressed to the edge of the cup as you tested it for heat, and then set it before Jinshi, offering him a drink. You had brewed green tea without the bitterness that other consorts had, and you had served tea to even the emperor when it was permitted. Jinshi might just be losing it. No, he has not been in a regular state since your disappearance. He is simply reaping the seeds of his actions.Shi
"Is something wrong?"
"You brew tea like someone I used to know." Jinshi shakes his head. "It is a shame she is gone."
"Maomao is not gone, though?"
"My wife." Jinshi purses his lips. He had mentioned it perhaps once or twice, but it had never been more than that. It is not the madam of the house this time, it is his wife. He misses his wife. You, his beloved who had been betrothed to him. He misses you. You were his wife, not his betrothed. He had seen you in red twice now, that was surely confirmation. Even if you were to forget, he fears that he could not. You are his wife, that much is clear. "That is enough for the night. Thank you."
Diu nods, taking the tray out and closing the door with his foot, leaving Jinshi alone with his thoughts.
It is scary— how much Diu resembles you.
Perhaps your ghost is really haunting him through his aide.
"Maomao." Jinshi hisses.
"Yes, Master Jinshi?" The girl turns to look at him.
"Where did you find Diu? He seems as though he yields from an elite family, yet there are no records of him anywhere." Jinshi raises a brow. "He is far too trained in arithmetic to be from a middle-class family as well."
"Oh, his family records were burned." Maomao shrugs. "He helped me once when I was about to be scammed by a merchant, so I decided to pay him back by employing him. He is good, is he not?"
"He is, but it is highly suspicious." Jinshi grumbles. "Who is his wife?"
"I have never met her."
Jinshi blinks. "You know nothing about him other than that he is good at math and has a wife, and you hired him?"
"Master Jinshi, he is not good at just math." Maomao argues. "She—"
"She?"
"I mean," Maomao sighs. "He is good at arranging the interior of the residence, is he not? He is highly trained in both what the women wield and what the men do. I hired him because he was capable in such areas. Are you doubting my loyalty? I value my head, you know? Diu is a great servant."
"That cannot be refuted, but—"
"I heard my name." Diu flicks Maomao's forehead. "And heard myself get misgendered. I am a man, Maomao. Must you hurt my pride further? I am already a eunuch. My poor wife will never get to experience penetrative pleasure from me because of the profession I have taken."
"Do you have children?" Jinshi raises a brow.
"No, master." Diu shakes his head. "My wife and I are perfectly content with no children. After all, I married into my wife's family."
"Oh, so you yield from nothing?" Jinshi interrogates, leaning onto his palm as he stares the man down.
"Yes." Diu nods. "I yield from nothing. Apart from my wife, I am nothing."
"Suspicious."
"Master." Maomao sighs.
Jinshi holds a hand up to signal for her to stop speaking. "Are you sure you do not yield from money?"
"I do not." Diu nods.
"Then why did Maomao call you a she?"
"Perhaps because I am pretty as one?" Diu winks at Jinshi, blowing a kiss.
Maomao hunches over in laughter as Jinshi fans his face.
"Fair point."
"You are gorgeous too, master." Diu hums. "Pretty like the lilies in the pond... dazzling like the stars in the sky. Surely, if you were a woman, the men would flock to your like bees to a flower."
Jinshi takes a moment to recover, holding his hand up. "The same would go to you, Diu."
"They already do." Diu hums. "I have submitted the report for the season."
"That is good." Jinshi sighs. "Maomao, do not hire random people from the street next time. I am starting to believe you only hired Diu because he is attractive."
"Attractive people need an attractive servants." Maomao shrugs.
Jinshi can't argue with that one.
"Or, perhaps similar people tend to flock to one another." Diu hums, picking up the flower pot with ease.
"Or haunt each other." Maomao mumbles, nodding as the two of them leave the room with the flowers.
It does not take two people to arrange flowers.
Yet, Jinshi pays attention to Maomao's words.
Haunt. Similar people haunt each other.
Maybe that is why he sees you in Diu.
Jinshi finishes the affairs for the day, groaning and rolling his shoulders back as he returns to your office, expecting the rest of his papers to still be there. Instead, he finds Maomao knocked out on the tea table, a finished stack of paper next to her, completed and only left behind for him to sign and seal. He takes the papers, reading through the contents, writing eerily similar. You are not here, yet the writing mirrors yours perfectly. It is your writing down to the bone. It is the same writing that he had read in your reports and invoices for the residence's monthly fees. Furthermore, it was not Maomao's handwriting.
Something is wrong.
The writing is yours. You are present in the mansion. You had danced on the walls, haunted his life, brewed him tea, and done so many things to him. It was not your ghost. You were there to haunt him. Tt infuriates him to no end, but you had to have a hand in the residence to be able to do so. You may not be there physically, but surely someone would have been sent to do the dirty work for you. There seems to be someone new doing the dirty work for him, and who else than his new aide? Perhaps this was some twisted divine punishment in the worst way. Perhaps he would not see the end of the world as he knows it, and you would crawl out of your grave to wrap your fingers around his ankle and drag him to hell with you.
Or perhaps Diu was out for revenge on your behalf.
"Hm?" Maomao wakes up first, jumping in her skin when he stares into her eyes harshly.
There are three people in the residence allowed to write reports.
"Who is Diu."
It is not a question. A command. It is a command.
Maomao stares into Jinshi's eyes, sighing, clicking her tongue in disdain.
"I shall rid of him."
"No. Who is he. Answer." Jinshi curses out. "You brought him in. Who is he."
"I owed him a debt so I hired him." Maomao speaks. "It is that simple."
"Who is he."
"Someone you lost."
"Master!" A maid calls. "Come out to the entrance! There is a maid claiming she knows the madam's whereabouts!"
Jinshi glares at Maomao, pointing down to make sure she stays put.
Maomao watches Jinshi rush out, and she sighs, taking the ointment from her pocket. Now to find you. No way in hell she was listening to him in this situation.
Jinshi meets the maid, and he sees through her immediately. A ploy. This is a ploy. This is some cruel set up by fate who wishes for him to be miserable, and the maid did not know where you were at all. Maomao did. Maomao probably knew exactly where you were, and she had probably known for a while now. He was foolish not to realize it, but he knows it now. He is no longer mad, simply exhausted. He misses you. How he wishes you would just appear out of nowhere. That would fix him.
Jinshi looks up when he hears something above.
Something snaps.
Your lips quirk up from the roof, humming as your voice returns to normal and Maomao wipes the makeup off your face. Your brows are less bushy and your lips turn more delicate. Your lashes remain the same, and you thread your fingers through your hair, smiling as Maomao stares down at the random woman. Talk about timing.
You're sure Jinshi is somewhat aware by now.
You stand up, the tiles clattering under your feet, and you laugh as you stretch your arms above your head, catching the way the woman at the gate pales in horror at the sight of you on the roof. Maomao sits behind you, same wind in her hair, leaning on her palm as you look down at Jinshi with a brow raised, Diu's clothes still on your body. Jinshi's eyes widen as he yells for you, leaving the other woman.
"With that, your debt is paid." You smile at Maomao. "I'll see you around, Maomao."
Maomao watches as you jump over the wall to the residence and Jinshi chase after you.
You sprint through the streets, Jinshi hot on your tail as you weave through the crowds swiftly, leaving Jinshi no chance to catch up to you. You really did think dressing as a man was fun, however much of a shame it was that Jinshi found out that you were the same eunuch hitting on everyone in the residence. You wonder if he'll catch you. At some point, you manage to ditch the outer coat to your shirt, only pants left and the wrap around your chest, throwing the coat at Jinshi to stop him as you rush into the forest.
It does not stop him, and when you dive into the water to get to the cave, a hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you to the surface with it as you kick to be freed. The hand lets go, but not before grabbing your face with a second hand, lips pressed to yours, the two of you float out of the water as Jinshi holds onto your face, legs kicking to keep himself afloat. His grip on your face is solid, no strength spared as he keeps you in place.
"Are you stupid?"
"Me? Stupid?!" You scoff, hands gripping his wrist to try to pull him off. "You're the one who said you would marry no one but Maomao! I simply left because you left me behind!"
"I went back for you!"
"How the hell was I supposed to know that?!" You scream, thrashing against his grip as it tightens, your nails digging into his wrist as he remains unbothered. "You've left me behind so many times! You left me during tea with the fucking emperor so you could save Maomao you nitwit!"
"I needed to save her! You would have done the same! You gave me the army seal!"
"But I would not have neglected you in the outer walls of the palace!" You shriek, finally breaking from his grasp as you dive underwater to swim away.
Jinshi follows after you, hand wrapping around your ankle to pull you to him, hands finding your waist as he pulls you with him to the cave, holding you down on the ground as water drips from his hair onto your face, his vision blurry from something he doesn't know anymore. You make him feel things. The dam holding back all of his emotions for you shatter as he pants, mouth open and chest heaving as he cries, hot tears splattering onto your face, his head hung as you resort to your fate, annoyance all over your face as you wait for him to cry it out.
"Jinshi. You love Maomao. We both know—"
"I don't." He whimpers. "I don't. I don't love her."
"Jinshi—"
somewhere in his subconscious, a rope snags.
"I love you." Jinshi whimpers, tears hot and warm on your cheeks now, dark eyes murky and cloudy, desperation bleeding past his fingers onto your skin as his grip on your tightens, a sob breaking past his lips, almost as if he had been in the same boat as you, the two of you both needing to break in order to be fixed. You had jumped off first, leaving Jinshi on his own as he had to figure out what he needed to do to get you back. You had floated off, lips curled into a peaceful smile and your eyes full of light, only to leave him behind. "I love you." Jinshi repeats again, voice cracking. Deep down, he is still that same child that held hands with you. Both of you were born and bred in order to grow quickly, not spared by the rapids of the palace as you both grew and grew and grew until you were perfect on the outside and hollow on the inside. "I love you." He sobs. "I have loved you for longer than I have been conscious. I did not pick to love Maomao because she had been perfect for me. I had picked her because she had been so full of life and full compared to the both of us. I can't love the same way everyone else does. I have given up my right as emperor, do you not know?! Do you know why you had to treat my wound when Maomao was gone?! I gave up the title! I cannot offer you what you were born and raised for. You deserve—"
You slap him, breathing heavy as the sound echoes through the cave.
"I deserve far more than you can give me." You speak, voice oddly even. "I deserve the world, but there is no point taking someone else's world when all I have ever been raised to know as my world is you. You should have spoken up and done something to communicate. I deserve the title of empress only because I was raised to become one. Beneath the title, all I deserved was for my childhood friend and the anchor of my life to stare at me just once outside of the royal court."
Jinshi whimpers, head still hung, cheek stinging from your slap.
"I was scared. We both cannot afford to have such weaknesses in the royal palace." Jinshi's voice goes quiet. "If I had revealed that I had an attachment to you, then the assassinations would have targeted you. I do not wish for you to drink more poison than you can take. I already know the previous empress made you swallow and swallow until there was nothing left. You are not a doll to me. You are something precious."
"Well you didn't choose me." You sigh. "We are getting nowhere—"
"I love you." Jinshi says it again.
"You do not—"
"I love you." Jinshi stares you in the eye, breathing slowing down and his eyes clear. "Until I stop chasing you under the sun and until the world ends, I love you. Until the heavens themselves strike me down, I will be in love with you. I do not deserve to love you right now, but it does not stop me. I will keep loving you until we return to the dirt of the ground. You may hate me for the rest of your life, despising everything that the royal name I own has put you through, but I will love you. Until I am bleeding my heart out and I become a star in the sky, I will love you. The moon is only gorgeous because it reflects the light from the sun. I am only the moon prince because the sun stands next to me in every event. Without you, I am worth nothing."
"That is a lie and you know it!"
"It is not!" Jinshi yells, lips pressing to yours to shut you up, even when you thrash against him, he holds you down, want and passion rippling through his lips to yours, and even when you accept his kiss, he does not stop, teeth gnashing against yours in something akin to a burning passion. He loves you. You are the sun to his moon, the light that he reflects in his day to day. He may have despised you, but the want that bled through his body at the sight of you was not something he could have ignored either. He loves you. He loves you until he returns to the dust of the world and both of you are lost to history. He loves you until the world caves in on itself and the royal family collapses.
When he finally pulls away, he notices the tears in your eyes and rolling down your cheeks.
"I love you." He whispers.
"Your mother was right." You whimper, voice frail and broken as you cry. "I am just a girl. I did not deserve the fate of the universe to rest on my back. I did not deserve for you to neglect me only to cry to me about loving me all alone. I do not deserve this, Jinshi."
"You are just a girl. I am just a boy." He whispers. "Neither of us deserved what we went through. I have never been in the right when it came to treating you. I will spend eternity trying to win you back after losing you. It will be my divine punishment, and the two of us may enter the afterlife, but I will continue to follow you. I have never been right when it has come to you, and I will spend my life regretting that."
And you cry, chest hurt from the years of pain, heart free from the years of hiding.
You are just a girl, and he is just a boy.
Neither of you deserved what you have been put through in the name of a better nation.
And as he ties his burnt rope to your frayed one to fix the gap, neither did he.
You are just a girl, and he is just a boy.
Alone in a royal palace with no real family.
You did not deserve it.
Jinshi brought you home.
His hand on your lower back as the two of you were drenched from head to toe, he brought you back. Maomao wiped your hair down as you thanked her, same dignified smile on your face as always, thanking Maomao for bringing you back. She helped you clean up, and you were returned to your room, the papers of the residence now split between you and Jinshi. Jinshi helps with what he is capable of, papers on his desk split with yours as you help him sort through the affairs of the residence. You are much more well-versed in it than he is.
"Beloved." Jinshi groans. "I need a drink."
You snort, sliding a paper to the side. "Ask Maomao for a drink. I need to make a round in the residence. The new blankets are coming today."
"When will we be wed? We must celebrate your return."
"I find no reason to if I never left." You hum. "You are still yet to propose to me. Not to mention how Maomao still has the hairpin you have given her."
"She does not." Jinshi raises a brow. "She traded it for wen at the pawn store when we went to the streets to get coins."
You raise a brow incredulously.
"You can ask her." Jinshi goes back to whining, Gaoshun sighing.
"Madam." Maomao knocks at the door. "Do you have time?"
You nod, closing the door behind you, and one of the maids hands you something with a bow and runs off when you accept it. It is a treat. Your lips quirk up as you unwrap it, handing Maomao one as you press the other one to your lips. The two of you chew quietly, and you stare at the pond. The red is all gone. You're not sure how Jinshi did it, but he had gotten rid of the blood you stained in it three winters prior. It had been gone for a while now. Yet, you do not say much, chewing on the peanut treat, tossing some at the ducks in the garden as you squat down.
"When is your wedding?"
"There is no need for one." You mumble. "Jinshi may not remember it, but we had been wed already."
Maomao blinks. "You were?"
"It was a simple ceremony. I had no family, so the empress had the two of us wed in secret before her death." You hum. "They dressed me up in red and proceeded with customs, but we continued to refer to each other as betrothed simply because it would be been troublesome for us to be married with no children."
"I see." Maomao mumbles. "Does he remember?"
"I do not believe so—"
You jump in your skin when Jinshi brushes his fingers over the nape of your neck.
"How could I not?" He pouts. "Though, you deserve a bigger wedding. It is the least I should do after putting you through so much."
You grimace at him. "Perhaps we should start from the beginning. Best of luck sending a proposal letter to my nonexistent family, Jinshi."
"No, we should pick up from the wedding." He frowns. "The bed. We never shared a bed."
"Because the empress passed away that same night so no one was there to watch us to rest together." You roll your eyes. "Treat?"
He takes one, humming. "I would prefer to host the wedding again."
You shrug. "The one to plan shall be you, despite the traditional way to go about it. It is not like I can bed you, anyway."
Maomao blinks slowly, cogs turning in her head. You watch, lips curled into a smile when it clicks for her.
"He's a eunuch." She pauses. "Which is why they did not make him bed you."
"Bingo!" You grin. "The second prince officially has one spouse. Master Jinshi has none."
"...then why do the maids here refer to him as master?"
"We force them to be tight-lipped." Jinshi hums. "Anyone who lets a word slip is executed. You live longer when you are tight lipped in this residence."
"I kill at least three maids a year." You hum. "You should watch. I line them up and shoot arrows at them."
Maomao blinks at you in concern. She supposes it is adequate since revealing Jinshi's true name would be like selling him out, but the idea of you wielding a bow... She pauses. No. You've cut a man's head off clean before. It is not out of character. It is simply out of character for the persona you display in front of the royal palace. Huh. Amusing. The contradiction of your quiet personality and the reality of your abilities. Perhaps you had been groomed in such a way to prevent your turning on the late empress.
"You are strange."
"Yes." You smile. "Very strange."
"You know what is strange? The fact that you are not my wife yet." Jinshi sighs dramatically.
You snort.
"Shall we get married in fall? When the harvest is most bountiful?"
"Perhaps." You yawn. "Though, you are to prepare everything."
"Except the dress?" Jinshi pauses. "No. It would be best if I pick the dress. I would simply—"
You smack him in the back of his head. "Bad. Leave the dress and decorations to me. You will simply plan the day and time."
"Yes, beloved." He pouts.
In the distance, a maid waves her hand, and you nod at Jinshi heading off.
Maomao's gaze lingers on you, only speaking up when you are out of earshot.
"Perhaps a new hairpin for her would be good as well."
"Well obviously." He pouts. "Perhaps you know what gem she would prefer?"
"Perhaps out of jade." She turns to look at Jinshi. "And hand carved."
Jinshi spits out blood.
Alright. For you.
Jinshi finishes the hairpin surprisingly fast, going home with ash on his face more often than he liked, but the hairpin is finished, jade shiny under the sun, pearls fastened with red silk, perfect for you to wear. It weighs light in his hand, but the metal is precious. So, he waits for a nice spring day, the sky clear and blue, sun in the sky, and he calls you out for tea.
This time, it would be his turn to chase after you, and he was determined to get you back.
After all, by the stars and the moon, by your birthdays and luck, you were destined.
And even if you were just a girl and he was just a boy, at least he was your boy.
If you would let him, of course.
After all, his rope is fastened to yours forever now.
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sabrina-senpai · 5 months
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DAY FOUR • ORAL (ft. william)
tw: fellatio, bunny slippers stay ON during sex, horrible synonyms for pp, gn!reader
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Another day, another thing to get scolded over. That’s how it always was with William. You couldn’t exactly say you didn’t deserve it, considering your lazy lifestyle, but it got annoying from time to time.
“Liam, why do you care if I left a sock on the floor, it was just one sock!” You whined, grumbling as you tossed the sock at the hamper — and missed, much to his annoyance.
You watched the vein in his forehead bulge even more now, as if it were about to pop. “Because, master, now I have to clean it up.”
“No you don’t,” you responded easily, “I’ll clean it up later!”
You really wouldn’t have, to be honest, but he didn’t know that. Probably.
“Master…” his lip twitched. “I have… no words for your ignorance. I cannot tell whether or not you’re joking. Either way, if you won’t help me, I suppose I should simply ignore you and continue my work.”
“Hey! You can’t just ignore your master like that!” Your words flew out before you could even think. “Plus, who says I won’t help you?”
“Oh?” He rose a brow in your direction. “Do you plan on helping me for once, master?”
Suddenly, an idea formed in the back of your head.
“Of course I do!” You scoffed, crossing your arms. “I’m not some heartless monster, Liam! Now come here.”
He watched you skeptically, furrowing a brow. “Why would I need to— ah?!”
He was cut off abruptly as you dropped a pillow at his feet, dropping to your knees in front of him to corner him loosely between your body and the wall.
“Master? What are you…?”
“I’m helping you. Like you wanted.” You looked up at him with a smile. “You’re too stressed, Liam. Let me fix that.”
For a moment, he looked as if he were going to shoot back one of his attitude-filled remarks at you, but it never came. Instead, he simply looked down at you, sliding his glasses up on his head.
“Then… go on, master, I don’t have all day.”
That was all you needed to hear to get to work, sliding his apron to the side to undo his trousers. You gently palmed at his length, watching it leak a small dark spot into his underclothes.
“Mmph… master… don’t tease me,” he groaned under his breath. “I need to last a short while at least…”
Cute. Though he acted arrogant all the time, he was just like a puppy looking to please his master.
Finally, you took it out, wrapping your hand around the pale base to press a kiss to the tip. If his shuddering breath was any indication, he was already feeling more relaxed.
The moment you felt that bitterness hit the tip of your tongue, more of it poured out, beads of it running down the underside of his flushed dick before you wrapped your lips around it, sucking gently at the head.
By now, whenever you looked up, you’d catch a glimpse of William’s gorgeous red eyes peeking from under his lashes, or his Adam’s apple beading with sweat. As you took him deeper between your lips, he cursed to himself, biting down on the thin plastic stick between his teeth to muffle his sounds.
“Master,” he breathed softly, “you… you’re going to…”
Before he could finish, a sweetness coated your tongue, flowing freely from his body. You could feel your mood get lighter as it absorbed, the sound of his voice drowned out by the feeling of acme on your skin and swirling inside you.
As soon as you’d finished drinking in the remaining acme, you felt a pair of big hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you up against his body.
“Thank you for helping me, master.”
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sabrina-senpai · 8 months
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LISTEN UP AGAIN KIDS STOP REBLOGGING THIS FUCKING GARBAGE POST. IT IS 100% FUCKING BULLSHIT AND CAN AND MOST DEFINITELY WILL LITERALLY KILL. DO YOU NOT SEE WARNING LABELS THAT SAY “DO NOT INDUCE VOMITING”? THEY AREN’T FUCKING AROUND. YOU CAN FUCKING BURN THEIR ESOPHAGUS BY CAUSING VOMITING, CAUSE CHOKING, DROWNING, OR MAKE IT WORSE! AGAIN DO NOT FORCE ANYTHING DOWN ANYONE’S THROAT. THEY. CAN. DROWN. IF SOMEONE IS LOSING CONCIOUSNESS ALL THE CHIT CHAT IN THE WORLD WILL NOT PREVENT IT AT THAT POINT THEY ARE IN SERIOUS DANGER. “Buuut i don’t wanna take them to the hospital!!!” WELL SUNSHINE GLAD YOU’D RATHER HAVE A DEAD FRIEND THAN A LIVING ONE BUT YOU’RE IN LUCK CALL FUCKING POISON CONTROL. THEY ARE NOT THE COPS. THEY WILL HELP YOU. AND IF THEY SAY GO TO THE FUCKING HOSPITAL YOU GO TO THE FUCKING HOSPITAL. NO EXCUSES. 0. NONE. I have seen this shit cross my dash SO MANY TIMES so PLEASE fucking reblog this and prevent some well meaning idiot from accidentally killing someone they love!
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sabrina-senpai · 10 months
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Your daily dose of cat memes
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sabrina-senpai · 10 months
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Waitwaitwait- I just realized something- correct me if I'm wrong but when Muzan found out Rui died, he killed the other lower moons in a fit of rage- He showed a few signs of favoritism towards Rui, but why?
Was it because Rui's past life reminded him of his own?? Or was it because of something else?? Both were very sick when they were human, and I think- ((I think)) Muzan turned him into a demon because he saw himself, in Rui.
Demon slayer brainrot (1/1?)
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sabrina-senpai · 11 months
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first hug with the nekoma members
I happened to do some research and apparently it’s considered rude in Japan to hug people :’) and it’s something usually only couples do, so why not write some first hug prompts with my fav team, yay! i always see first kiss but my touch starved ass believes in hug supremacy 
type: fluff, gn!reader (implied female at yamamotos) x nekoma boys (unfortunately no teshiro)
warnings: none! maybe yamamoto being silly 🤗 also lowercase intended, not proof read so sorry for any typos !! 
summary: you hugging your friend (who happens to have a crush on you) for the first time!
#1 TETSURŌ KUROO
when you approached the captain after practice, he wasn’t surprised. you guys would often walk to the train station together with kenma, so he assumed this was the case. “hey! finished everything up already?” you chirped, arriving in front of him and smiling. he nodded, gesturing at his bag and humming. “kenma’s still getting changed.” taking the chance of him extending his arm, you slipped below and pressed your body against his chest. he froze up for a second, about to hug you back until you had already slipped away from his touch. he beat himself up about it later </3
#2 NOBUYUKI KAI
“need some help?” his voice echoed in your ears and you spun around in surprise. “ah, kai! good morning! yes, i’d appreciate that.” you had been trying to build up the net for practice and kai had luckily arrived shortly after you. he fixed your mistake with ease, finishing it up faster than you expected. “all done.” he spoke, giving you a thumbs up. you hesitated, but gave him a quick hug that was extended by kai tightning his grip around you and patting your back a few times, before finally releasing you. in the end, you were more flustered about it than him.
#3 MORISUKE YAKU
“y’know, yaku, i think you’re a bit harsh on lev sometimes.” you spoke, facing the 3rd year. he stayed silent for a second, before speaking. “he deserves it.” before he was able to move on, you continued. “i don’t think you’re that short though, yakkun. it’s great for hugging!” a light red hue spread along his cheeks, him turning away from you. that was, until he felt your arms wrap around his body and he completely froze up, somehow being able to reincorporate your touch. “see?” 
#4 TAKETORA YAMAMOTO
it’s no secret that yamamoto was scared to talk to girls, but you wanted to change that. when you found out why he was avoiding you, you did your best on befriending him and somehow managed to do it after two weeks of being the manager. yamamoto had insisted on walking you home, so you complied after his constant begging all day. arriving in front of your home, he bowed before you and wished you a good night. he started walking off until you grabbed his wrist and pulled him into your embrace. let’s just say, you broke him.
#5 KENMA KOZUME
with kenma, the hug was out of nowhere. the boys had just returned from their run (even though it was very cold outside) and most of them were warmed up, except for one certain member. he was pathetically standing next to kuroo, shaking like a madman, and you shook your head at his carelessness. you approached him, looking at him one last time before pressing your body against his in an attempt to warm him up. his cheeks heated up, but he didn’t really know what to do so he simply wrapped his free arm around you lazily, enjoying the heat. the rest of the boys couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous.
#6 SHŌHEI FUKUNAGA
when you saw shōhei getting the balls with inuoka, you just got hit with the urge randomly. he was there and you were cold, so why not? you got up from the bench, putting your notebook and pencil down and jogged over to him. he looked at you in silence, waiting for you to say something until you opened your arms and looked at him expectantly. he tried to understand what you were doing, inuoka having to come for help and pushed him forward slightly. finally getting at your idea, he shyly complied and wrapped his arms around you. when you parted, he was as red as a tomato.
#7 SŌ INUOKA
in this case, inuoka was actually the one who initiated the hug. while on a walk, he saw a couple hugging and his mind immediatly wandered to you, happy with the idea he just got. once he entered the gym building after changing into his correct attire, his eyes landed on you and he jogged over to your side, grinning at you. “ah, good morning sō! do you need something?” you smiled up at him. he nodded. “can i hug you?” he asked, you blushing a little bit at his direct behavior. “oh! sure!” you agreed, standing up and extending your arms for him. he squeezed you against him tightly, you laughing a bit at his intensity. he hugged you more often after that :)
#11 LEV HAIBA
like inuoka, he was the one that initiated the hug. since one of his parents was european, hugging was normal in his family and he just wanted to do it one day when he saw you all cuddled up in a jacket you borrowed from a friend. he thought you looked cute, so he went up to you and engulfed your body in his arms. “oi- lev?!” you exclaimed, surprised at his gesture. nonetheless he didn’t let go, and waited until you hugged him back to release his grip. 
#12 YŪKI SHIBAYAMA
“yūki, could you help me with this?” you called out, showing him a riddle on your phone. he nodded, sitting down next to you and explaining it to you, waiting until you finally understood. in that moment you were just grateful for his help, and didn’t hesitate from getting up and hugging him quickly. personally he thought it was too short, ignoring the small blush on his face at the sudden body contact. he definitely gave you multiple hints of wanting another hug after that.
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sabrina-senpai · 11 months
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I luv them sm 🥰🧍‍♀️
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sabrina-senpai · 11 months
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Ghost Of You
Zhongli x GN!Reader
Contains: angst, minor character death (very slight mention; nothing gory) Feel free to listen while you read:
Ghost - Justin Bieber
https://youtu.be/Fp8msa5uYsc Inspired by the song ‘Ghost’ by Justin Bieber.
ft. voice lines from Genshin Impact! Zhongli
Summary:
“Things are beautiful not because of it being short-lived, but because it carries memories or stories of other beings, whether a person, a plant or even the earth itself. The transient quality only makes us long for it more.”
Keep reading
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sabrina-senpai · 11 months
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you drew stars around my scars ( kaveh x fem!reader )
tws — alcoholism, d*pression, s*icide mention, a lot of daddy issues, angst (with comfort). this fic contains sensivite subjects regarding those trigger warnings, so be careful when reading. no proofread.
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as a child, you never understand why you needed to smell all the other bottles of your house before drinking it. nor why your father would take hours on the tavern before coming home with the delicious dinner he promised you before leaving — you were just happy to have him at home, even though he and your mother would always argue about the smallest things. maybe it was just how married couples were, your child conscience would think, too unaware of the way he'd reek of wine or how sometimes he needed help to walk because his legs were too wobbly. 
your father's problems with alcohol started as soon as you were born, and you couldn't tell what were traits of his personality or the alcohol speaking and the thought of not knowing who your father truly was always plagued you. 
but, with kaveh, you could. 
you could tell that when he was flirtier than usual, or more touchy, it was the alcohol on him speaking — sober kaveh was more of romantic gestures than flirty ones — or when he looked too cheerful and his smiles didn't made his eyelids close with happiness, or when his eyes were too unfocused on the person he was supposed to pay attention to. they were subtle changes, but changes you knew deep in your heart. 
drunk kaveh wasn't the kaveh you fell in love with, the kshahrewar student who you left in awe after one of your dance performances in the grand bazaar — your love story was supposed to rival mondstadt's greatest bard's songs, something that was supposed to be forbidden due to the nature of yours and his environments, but the love that blossomed inside two younger hearts was too strong to let the relationship end just because of what the akademiya thought about the arts. 
but such love wasn't strong enough to endure when you saw him going in the same path as your father, even with the many warnings and sincere conversations you had with him. 
you've made the promise of not being like your mother on the day your father died due to his addiction, and you decided to honor your teenage self — leaving kaveh and ending your relationship was the most difficult decision you ever made, a decision that, in the middle of uncharacteristic cold nights, you still had doubts if it was the best thing. however, you didn't want to be there to watch him going further and further down in a path you knew which the ending was, without caring for your experiences or feelings. he knew how much you were affected by your father actions, but still decided to close his eyes to what could happen when relying on alcohol to feel something good could happen. 
a broken heart to break a cycle was a fair thing to pay, you thought — even though it hurt more than anything you ever felt. kaveh managed to make a way for him inside your bones and soul, and your flesh screamed for him. to feel his touch, to taste his kisses once more. 
just like the wine he so dearly loved, he managed to be as sweet and additive as it. 
but life needed to go on, and work called you, like a salvation. becoming a member of zubayr theater and rising to the position of one of their stars alongside nilou was what kept you sane through your grief, and you couldn't be more grateful for them — and, surprisingly, for alhaitham too. kaveh's friend and roommate took your side in everything that happened, and you knew it was because of his worry for his housemate, but a strong friendship blossomed between you and the scribe after the break up. 
“he has stopped drinking, you know.” alhaitham said, casually, over his coffee break with you, as if what he was saying was about some old guy in birmastan instead of your ex boyfriend. 
you almost spilled your tea over him, or choked on what was inside your mouth. it had been some months since you last heart about kaveh, grateful that he respected your wishes when you said you didn't want to see him ever again — words you screamed at his face after he arrived in your house reeking of wine and triggering the most horrible feelings your heart had locked up ever since you were fourteen — but you never thought alhaitham would be the one to bring him up, so casually, inside the puspa cafe. taking your silence as his permission to talk, the scribe continued. “i've never seen him so determined before, not even when he's working on a project.” it wasn't common for alhaitham to praise kaveh, so what he was doing was probably something so exceptional that made the scribe want to say good things about his roommate. “the breakup changed him, i suppose.” 
you smiled weakly at him. was he trying to put him in good graces with you again? did kaveh make him schedule a meeting with you so alhaitham could talk about your ex-boyfriend to you? you wouldn't be fooled. you were no scholar, but you weren't stupid. “i wish he had changed when we were still together, as it is easy to change when one is no longer around. now, i suppose it doesn't matter anymore for me.” it pained to say such words because it did matter for you, and you hoped alhaitham couldn't see the tears glossing your vision. 
did you mean so little to kaveh that he decided to change only when you weren't in the picture anymore? 
kaveh sighed in frustration. 
he had hoped that when alhaitham brought him up in his conversation with you, you would've a better reaction. though it hurt, he expected such words coming from your mouth — but words could be lies, and he wished he was there to watch your body language, as he could read it like the palm of his hand. 
unlike alhaitham, who read people as if they were a rock. 
however, that didn't matter. kaveh now knew when your next performance in the grand bazaar would be, and that was what he needed. he was sure you'd never agree to meet him in private, and maybe approaching you in a public setting would be best for him to show how much he had changed and how willing to fight to have you back he was. 
he hoped the bouquet of sumeru roses would be enough to soften your heart, so he could talk how difficult it was to stop drinking, but he did it for you and for himself, too — the scars on his fists were enough reminder of how destructive alcohol made his thoughts to be, and, if it wasn't for alhaitham, he doubted he would've survived such spiral he went down on that fateful day. drinking had been a great distraction for all the pain he had inside his chest, for his father and mother and for you too, but it was also his biggest enemy. everything was much better now that wine wasn't his best friend. 
in the end, you had been right, and kaveh was a fool for not listening to you — and he hoped he wasn't too late now. surely seven months wouldn't be enough to erase the love you had for him, right? 
he sighed again, a soft smile on his face watching you spinning and dancing, rehearsing for your next performance. it pained him to watch from the shadows something he used to watch first hand, but he didn't want to disturb you. he had already waited for so long, a few days wouldn't be compared to the months of anguish since you broek up with him. 
sometimes you felt like you were being watched from the shadows, a figure following every step you took, but you wouldn't let yourself be paranoid about something that was just in your head. maybe you were just anxious about your next performance in the grand bazaar, as sharing the stage with nilou always awoken such feelings in your heart — as her senior in both the theater and in the art of dancing, though sharing the same teacher, you always wanted to give her and the audience the performance of your life. 
however, you were restless for some other reasons — alhaitham's words about kaveh were still resonating inside your head, of how he stopped drinking after your break up. it was selfish and even naïve to think that he'd try to mend the relationship you both had now that he was sober, but you still could imagine him coming to your house and you both getting over your differences. he was haunting all of your what-ifs, making you look for him in shadows inside the places you two used to go together, and that infuriated you. deep inside, you wished he'd attend the performance in the grand bazaar, only for you to see if he was doing alright. 
but the fear of seeing him with someone else was too much, too. 
what if his sober mind noticed that he didn't love you, and his feelings were just products of the wine he'd drink before reaching your house and making your body his home? what if he noticed he was just trying to find who'd draw stars on his scars, whisper sweet nothings on his skin whenever the pain and guilt about his father's death would take control of his body? what if you were just what his drunk self needed, but not his sober one? 
you wondered if that were the thoughts of your mother, while enduring a loveless marriage with your father. was she holding the hope of him becoming the man she fell in love with for all those years, while peeling the shell of a monster, trying to find your father beneath it? 
she'd found love again, but you wondered if those thoughts still plagued her, like your thoughts about kaveh were doing with you. you just wished he could go away and leave you alone, even though he wasn't there. 
a knock on the door took you out from your thoughts, and, groaning, you got up from the chair you were sitting, ready to start another performance by nilou's side. the cataclysm was a play very popular within the kids and those who didn't study in the akademiya, and the clothes of the electro archon were almost like a second skin to you, the armor you needed to shield yourself from your own thoughts — though, however, such armor came to ashes as soon as noticed a pair of red eyes on the crowd. 
kaveh hugged the bouquet of sumeru's roses a bit closer to his heart, after hearing mr. zubayr saying that you have already left for your house. 
he didn't expect you to wait for him, if you did notice him in the crowd, but it still hurt a little. you danced so beautiful, portraying the fierce and unstoppable electro archon fighting against monsters alongside the lord of geo. he was your biggest supporter and admirer, even though you always had dozen of them lined up to greet you after a performance — always saying to kaveh that none could compare to him when he'd get too pouty, wanting to have you all for himself when seeing the attention you gave your admirers. 
now, perhaps, he was the one who couldn't compare to them. 
but he knew your favorite flowers were the sumeru roses, unlike many of your admirers, and he was willing to give you millions of them if you so desired — the birmastan would be in loss of one of their medicinal herbs, as they'd be sitting on your house as a testimony of his compromise to you. 
kaveh knew like the back of his hand the way of your house, familiar with all the wild flowers and rocks of the way. his architectural mind always had ideas of how to make your street more beautiful, to suit having you living there, ideas that would make you stay awake during the night hearing him saying everything that was in his mind — more flowers, more trees, a new design for the buildings. you two were like water and oil, but mixed perfectly until you didn't. 
almost reaching the place he'd call a second home, he heard noises that always made him disgusted and angry — fighting sounds, skin against skin in punches and kicks, cries and whines. but he ran, because he knew from whose mouth such sounds were coming from. 
he would make whoever ambushed you pay with the most painful punishment. 
“hey, what's happening here?” he demanded, voice full of authority of a member of the kshahrewar darshan — especially because those who were cornering you were his juniors, and he wondered what was wrong in their minds. they stopped as soon as kaveh opened a way between them to put his body in front of you, not sparing a glance to your wounded body. if he saw the extent of your injuries before making them leave, perhaps he'd be expelled from the akademiya. “did you all lose your minds? she's a weaponless woman!” 
they seemed ashamed, but only because their senior caught them in the act. kaveh heard you sighing in relief behind him, and such a reaction made the red clouds on his vision dissipate — you felt safe with him still. 
“she's a dancer.” the boldest one of them replied, and kaveh recognized him as the one who punched your face slightly before he made them stop. “a scum. you shouldn't protect her, she's staining sumeru's reputation.”
if it wasn't for the flowers on his hand, kaveh would've done to him the same he was doing to you. “and she's still a weaponless woman.” he knew that trying to argue with them wouldn't lead anywhere, and he needed to make sure you were fine. “just leave, the three of you, before i treat you like you were treating her.” he threatened, watching as they went away before turning to you. 
with an open lip and some open wounds on your arms and neck, kaveh almost blurted how beautiful you were — but he knew it wasn't time for it. “are you alright?” you nodded and, as much as he wanted to hear your voice speaking to him, he would give you time. he knew some people were hostile to you and your colleagues of the zubayr theater, but he never thought scholars would be bold enough to ambush a defenseless artist. it made this blood boil, but he wasn't there to avenge you yet. “th… these are for you.” he almost shoved the bouquet in your face, closing his eyes when he felt his cheeks warming up, missing the way your eyes sparkled and your lips curled in a small smile. 
he only opened them again when he felt you taking over the flowers, eyes closed and face close to the petals, nose smelling the comforting scent of the flowers — and he shouldn't be jealous of inanimate things, but oh, how much he desired to be in their position. “thank you.” you whispered, and kaveh felt his heart melting with the sweetness of your voice.
an awkward silence followed the sweet interaction, with both you and kaveh lost in your thoughts and the words you wanted to say to each other locked up on throats that wanted nothing more than to proffer the undying love for each other of their owners. 
“may i escort you to your house, y/n?” your name wasn't foreign to his tongue, but it had been ages since he professed those syllables — it has a new taste on his mouth, far more sweet than it used to be. “so i can prevent those scumbags from bothering you again.” kaveh quickly added, afraid that you would see such a suggestion as something else. it was something else, a way for him to be around you once again, and you probably knew that, but he hoped you would accept it. 
he was surprised that you didn't seem to think twice before answering. “yes, of course. lead the way, kaveh.” 
it was a nice and short walk, but before you knew it, kaveh was inside your house and between your legs, his fingers cleaning your facial wounds with a delicacy only reserved to those who were lovers of the art — and his hands were stable, you noticed. not trembling because of the alcohol. 
you didn't remember how you managed to ask him to get inside or how he managed to get you to agree with him doing such an intimate act on your body, but it used to be the other way around. you would be the one cleaning wounds on his face and body from fighting against monsters in the forest, and not him doing it because some men thought it would be a wise decision to abuse you just because of your career choice. your mother would always say that you were like a bird, one that wasn't caged, and that your wings would take you to the most beautiful places and she wasn't wrong. it took you to the zubayr theater, to kaveh.
he wasn't saying anything even though you wanted him to, but you couldn't be able to break the silence. it wasn't awkward, but it was heavy and you hoped he couldn't hear or feel how quickly your heart was bearing — but, as soon as you noticed bandages around his wrists, you knew you needed to ask. 
“what happened?” you asked, holding his wrists together and near your face, making him unable to do his work on your skin. everything was clean now, you could feel it. 
kaveh contemplated if he should lie to you or not. those were scars he was ashamed of, scars that weren't known by you. but you could read him like an open book and, judging by the tears making your eyes shine with sadness, you knew what was the action that inflicted them on his skin. “it was a long night.” he whispered, feeling the way your fingers traced the twin scars under the bandages. “it was the first death anniversary of my father after our break up and i just… i just wanted the pain and guilt to stop.” he watched as you nodded, trying so hard to not let the tears fall down your eyes. “i had drank more than normal and smashed a bottle on the wall and… the glass was too appealing for me.”
“i'm sorry.”
“it's not your fault." kaveh whispered back, taken aback by how sad you sounded. it never had been your fault — his decisions and acts were his burdens to carry. “it was on that day that i noticed how bad the alcohol was for me and that i needed help. if it wasn't for alhaitham…” he sighed, dropping his eyes at where your hands held his wrists together — your touch burned his skin, and he hoped it would leave a scar so he could always remember this moment. 
though, however, he never expected you to slowly untie his bandages. 
neither did you know what got over you, but you needed him to know how much you still loved him, how much you were willing to make things work between you two again. you needed kaveh in your life like a flower needed water, like the moon needed the sun to shine. you brought the skin of his wrists to your lips, kissing the scarred skin softly — and your lips felt like an oasis after days spent in the desert. 
“d-don’t.” he whispered, and you could tell his eyes were filled with tears despite not looking at me. “don’t give me hope that you still love me.” he felt as small as he did on the day his mother left sumeru to fontaine, to the day his father left to participate in that damn tournament. and it was that kid that was whispering such words, afraid of being left again by someone he loved. 
but as much as that child was speaking for kaveh, your own child self was the one making your decisions — a child that once was afraid to open her heart and be hurt, a child that the biggest nightmare was to be loved wrong like her father once did with her. but kaveh showed that his love for you wasn’t wrong, and you couldn’t let him slip away from your grasp again. it was difficult to let him go in the first place, but you now knew that both of you needed time to grow and heal and to be away from each other while doing so. 
“but i do.” you whispered so softly, afraid that he would fly away like a dandelion if you spoke louder. “leaving you was the hardest decision i ever took, kaveh.” you confessed, putting his right hand over your chest. “my heart never stopped being yours.” 
kaveh smiled, albeit more sadder than you were expecting too. “as mine never stopped being yours too, my muse.” the pet name always made your cheeks redden, and now it wasn’t different. “and i need to thank you.” the hands that were being held by yours made their way to cup your face, bringing your forehead to rest on his. kaveh was beautiful from any angle, but being this close to him made you notice how enchanting he was. “the hardest decision of your life was what i needed to clear my head and mind.” you both breathed the same air, as if you were the same being, but it wasn’t enough — yours and kaveh’s souls needed to be one once more, and you could feel them mixing once more, finally finding the comfort and ease they were deprived of while you were away. “and be ready to love you as you deserve.” 
but relief, too. relief to know that their feelings didn’t change, but only grew and grew stronger than before, to know that they were still made for each other despite everything. 
your ways would always lead you to kaveh, as his would lead him to you. 
he didn’t hesitate to claim your lips once more, caressing your face as if you were the most beautiful piece of artwork he ever saw. you would never grow tired of kaveh’s kisses and you only noticed how much you missed them —but it seemed different somehow, without the smell of wine and sluggish words. they were stable and assertive, only to show you how much kaveh was willing to change to worship you and your body. 
the ghost who was haunting all of your what ifs was back to his rightful place: between your arms, and to stay until the end of his days. 
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not me coming back after months of just reblogging hal's fics to post one of my own lmao im sorry! i'll try to write more now okay!
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