#its literally up there with queen spring day herself for me like maybe its just bc im into the rock vibe so much but like

[ladykinrannoch]

Reading - The tower and the heartbreak...bad pennies and getting what you deserve

I laid a general energy reading for Peggy Meggy and I have to say the next six months looks bleak.

I read with Wheel of the Year Tarot, because I am still trying to learn the symbolism in the cards, and actually the more you read with a deck the easier it becomes. Usually to read on the Harkles I need my Cosmic Tarot because that one channels psychic better for me on such difficult to read energy, but I was pleasantly surprised at how easily these card communicated today, so I must be bonding with the deck.

Underlying energy: The Tower, I don't need to say it for those that follow tarot, the Tower is crash and burn energy, sudden and catastrophic change in the life of the subject on whom we are reading. This is literally the end of the tarmac for the alliterate one. There is such bad karmic energy here now that the next six or more months are going to be a series of tremendously bad luck.

First card out is 3 Swords - the heartbreak and betrayal card, so this alludes to the pain of truth and reality setting in, it is not a nice a energy. This is literally the broken heart card. It could signal affairs, loss, emotional disappointment, business or financial losses or all of the above. Subsequent cards in the spread are the pentacles and cups, so I am refining this down to emotional and financial stress and disappointment. It could also be disappointment in relationships, backstabbing, betrayal. I am not getting infidelity energy here which is interesting. It is more like loneliness, losing friends and supporters. Feeling sorry for oneself, a bit of abandonment.

Next out is The Moon - illusions and deceit traditionally, but it also it can be a rude awakening to being enlightened. I am getting that kind of energy, like she wakes up one day and freaking realises that all the Tower energy and the abandonment by friends and supporters is her OWN fault. Now that really would be one for the books with a narc, they never take responsibility, and I doubt she will publicly, but maybe in private, she finally realises that she has cocked this up and only herself to blame.

The next two are court cards, either people or situations. I got King Pentacles, which could be Harry, earth sign Virgo and Queen of Cups, which is a Cancer or Pisces woman. I am struggling to identify who these cards represent because a King Pentacles is a reliable, trustworthy, influential man who is reliable and steadfast, this is not Harry. As this card is sitting directly above the Tower, I am reading this as a situation around steady income and reliability and stability. The Tower moment therefore could be a total crash and burn situation with finances. In wheel of the year tarot the pentacle suit is associated with autumn or fall, so I think this tower moment is coming in the fall, at the end of Summer, so anytime from mid September through November. Could it be a bankruptcy? A voluntary filing?

The next card is Queen cups, associated with spring in this deck, and of course water signs like Cancer and Pisces, so I think this heralds a terribly emotional time for Markle, and its not short lived. It lasts from October/November all through to spring, April/May. This is quite traumatic with the influence of the Tower energy and the overall situation card of 3 Swords. I am hearing, "the worst nine months of my life, ever! "

The outcome card is 6 cups, which I sometimes think of as the dronk verdriet card, loose translation from Afrikaans is drunk crying, it is a card of reminiscing over better times, being pretty down and out, no energy or desire to 'get out of your cups' or sober up.... just drinking that wine and wallowing. However this card is also a card of meeting up with old friends, talking over better days, the return of an ex-love, someone from your past making an appearance. In this case with the Tower next to this card, I am thinking that whoever turns up, is like a 'bad penny', this is not someone she wants to see. What is jumping into my head is the thought of your past coming to haunt you? This is quite synonymous with the heavy energy of the Tower that is colouring this whole reading.

I actually feel a bit sorry for her!? I am shocked that I have this emotion coming over me, this is dreadfully sad and heavy energy. But I will say it was just fleeting moment of sympathy, because my next thought is "get what you deserve."

[jasminedragonart]

Back on my disney rants. This one is about how I did not enjoy Frozen. Before I start, this is my OPINION. I am allowed to not like something. if you watched this movie and enjoyed it, that's fine, we obviously both got something different out of it and that's okay. That's allowed.

Anyway I didn't like Frozen and I thought Hans should not have been villainised for what he did.

The music, I will give them, was good. The plot? Dull. Boring. Pointless. It had a good premise but the payoff was awful, especially when i went into this thinking it was going to be a different film.

I'll explain. So, a couple of years back in my youth hallmark or some other classic channel made this film called the Snow Queen based off of Hans Christian Anderson's story (I think). This film has many problems but boy has it stuck with me because it's also just so good with its premise. Basically theres a girl who hates winter because her mother died in winter. She ends up liking it when this boy kai comes along only he ditches her because this lady rolls into town and kidnaps him. The wider story arc is that there's this mirror and there are four sisters who all want this mirror, the sisters are the seasons and winter takes the mirror but it smashes and a piece gets caught in Kai's sye which is why he's taken. The girl ends up travelling through each season in the Hope's of finding kai and the seasons themselves are so good. Spring tries to brainwash her and make her sleep all the time, summer can see dreams and has balls and she tries to marry the girl off, autumn is a bandit queen. It's just, it's both a good and bad movie (kinda racist, but it was made in a time where these stereotypes weren't talked about as much)

Anyway I walked in thinking disney was remaking this and I was so hyped. Except it wasn't, it was what we got with frozen.

To start off with, I thought the opening song was good, it was strong and interesting and it had mystery to it. I thought oh maybe this will be about kristoff since you know he was kidnapped by trolls. But no. In fact that's never brought up. You don't just set that up for nothing. I mean tangled is literally about finding the princess that was kidnapped at the beginning. Why don't we get more about kristoff's family? Aren't they looking for him? I was so frustrated with this dropped plot.

Moving on, I thought, again, the beginning was okay. It was interesting that elsa had these powers from a kid, but then why does she have them? Why do we find that out in the 2nd movie and not the 1st? Again, this was a dropped plot point that could have been something interesting. They could have related this back to the trolls or a curse or something that would tie into a prophecy that would tie the whole narrative together.

But no, she as magic, anna forgot and now she shuts herself away and is now expected to be queen? That makes no sense. She literally doesn't leave her room. How are we expecting Elsa to rule here? She's literally attended no council meetings or sat in on audiences with her people. I don't think Elsa even attended most of her lessons since anna probably would have been there with her. It doth make no sense.

Anna's song was a bop. I liked Hans too. I didn't enjoy that thing disney does these days where it mocks old disney with jokes about marrying them a day after they've met them. I'll have you know Belle was at least with the beast a year. eric and ariel had a whirlwind romance sure but that's not to say there wasn't a gap between ariel getting legs and the two of them marrying. The same with cinderella, snow white, mulan spent months on the road with Shang, aurora and Philip lived in medieval france so there might have been a gap or their parents just forced them together. the point is disney makes jokes about things that aren't even jokes. Like it doesn't hold up. It also doesn't make sense in a real context because Hans is a prince anna is a princess, unless he has nothing to bring to the table which I don't even think Elsa knows about peace treaties and whatever then theres no reason she should say no to agreeing to let them court. Not marry, but they could court. Also it wasn't that unusual to marry someone youd never seen in medieval times if you were royalty. Henry VIII of england married anne of Cleves after seeing her portrait and then, in real life, said she'd catfished him because he'd never seen her until they were married.

Anyway, elsa ran off, I didn't care. I had no reason to care. I cared more about anna and her story than elsa and her ice palace. Also can we appreciate hans here. This man looked after the people, the guests, he stopped fights he made sure everyone was alright and sure he tried to kill elsa but I mean elsa was plunging the kingdom into eternal winter. I don't know about you but this is literally what got the white witch killed in narnia so, you know, maybe hans was just doing what was good for the kingdom. Also anna was a loose cannon. She wanted to bring else back? To cause more damage? I'm surprised the people didn't rebel against these 2 unprepared princesses. What do they know about ruling? At least hans has an idea, he proved he put the people over finding Elsa. So, all I'm saying is maybe we were a bit quick to judge.

Kristoff annoyed me when we met him again. I just knew they were going for that opposites attract thing. Olaf was cute for about 2 minutes. Sven saved the show for me tbh. Love a good reindeer.

Also we meet the trolls again? For someone who was mocking not getting married after they'd just met the trolls were kind of saying the opposite. Also what happened to kristoff's parents? Tell me!

Blah blah blah it bored me blah blah blah I hated that true love was a family thing. Like, yes, it's true that true love can come from family, but in the context that disney has made it out to be I felt like I was being cheated. I felt like they were watering down something that didn't need to be watered down. Two characters can still kiss right? Because disney seems to be steering away from any romance in their films these days. I felt like the fairytale structure was incomplete and honestly I was barely watching it at that point.

I just didn't like frozen, anna should have been queen at the end of the 1st movie not the 2nd and hans deserved better.

If you disagree that's fine but I don't accept Elsa as a good disney queen. Kida will always hold that spot for me followed closely by ariel (is she a queen? I think she is in the second one. I don't remember)

So yeah, frozen was kind of a mess in my opinion.

#Frozen #Disney #Anti frozen #You dont have to interact if you disagree #This is just my opinion

[redloftwingfeathers]

I feel like talking about the shit Zelda not only had to put up with but also what she subconsciously summoned herself and you're going to sit and listen and maybe cry with me okay? Okay.

While I don't think that was very cash-money of 'Hylia' to make Zelda wait until she's reached true, unrelenting despair to finally find her light, it made me wonder how everything came into play that made her journey so painstakingly hard, and not just Hylia pulling fast ones from the clouds. (Trust me I wanted to blame the goddess so bad after that moving performance at the spring of power but wait!! there's more!)

Things I'm looking at are specifically Zelda's anxieties of wanting to be a scholar but having to throw herself to the dogs of religion to keep Rhoam happy, the HEAVY depression she carries with not just from the loss of her mother but also just constantly being berated by her father and feeling like she's not good enough for Hylia, the jealousy and anger she harbors towards Link in their beginnings and how it effects her growth.

All of these are things (coming from someone who is very mentally ill) are ingredients that distract Zelda from her goals, intentional or not.

Zelda has a classic case of "I wanna do This Thing (studying, traveling) but I have to do That Thing (religion, strict orders) instead and now the fun is sucked out of it and my mind is buzzing and now I don't know what to do girl (hylia) HELP"

What's even worse is despite her hand-picked maturity, she KNOWS what is right and what she needs to do (her level of self awareness is impeccable sometimes) but she is still just a child in the end, wanting to live her life without dictation, which causes frustration and anger and can lead to self-doubts.

Starting with the loss of her mother, Rhoam claims that Zelda did not cry at all during the ceremony, and that it proved to him he could still be a strong king with how unwavering his daughter was. And although that's shown as an "awe inspiring" moment, it shows Rhoam does not understand how the processing of grief registers differently amongst people, especially children. She may have not showed it when she was, what, 6? (Not every normal 6 year old understands the fragility of mortality) but you can definitely see it affects her later on as Zelda grows older. It may not be entirely visible at first, but the way they portray it in HWAoC (I know its not entirely canon but bare with me on this) she longs for her mother's advice and comfort when her pleas and ideas fall deaf on the king's ears. Her mother seemed to be a very wise and compassionate queen, where Rhoam is a wise and a very bite-the-bullet king.

When stakes are high he trusts what he thinks needs to be done, and he enforces Zelda to finish her training Because she is part of his plan to push back the calamity. He knows protocol, and there's no room for creative thinking when the land of Hyrule is in danger. (Disclaimer: I hate Rhoam but I can also try to see what Nintendo was doing. He's not intentionally mean, he's an assertive dad that wants to see his daughter succeed (and also hella depressed) but he's really fucking bad at it and comes off as a dickhead. He is the embodiment of a boomer that does things the old fashioned way to get things done).

But all of this pressure he is putting on her, taking away things that make her happy so they don't distract her from her duty, shooting down her ideas because he wouldn't know how to even approach it from his standpoint, it really does a number on Zelda and really births her insecurities.

No matter how hard she prays and dedicates herself to Hylia, it doesn't work. Her mind is distracted, filled with fear and very little hope that the magic isn't Working. What even kicks me in the jaw more is that she's putting all of her effort into these prayers, and it's not even her wish she's making. It's Rhoam's wish. Her Ancestral Family's wish. That's why it hasn't sparked. She's praying on the behalf of her father and ancestors and not herself because she firmly believes there's other ways to settle the score. Zelda knows the importance of her role but its just not clicking when someone else is forcing you to do it. It just doesn't work like that.

Moving onto her liaison with Link, she is, well, in the beginning very irritated with him. Even a little bit after being chosen by Fi. But I don't think she MEANS to be angry at Link, he didn't do anything wrong in all honesty. She shouldn't take out her anger on him, but she's jealous, and he exists...so like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

When Link is suddenly chosen by the sword at a drop of a hat?? Yeah she's relieved, but there's also undertones of resentment. All of her Champions are here at the ready and she's still trying to figure out what shoe goes on first. She is the goddamn Princess of Hyrule, one who carries the blood of Hylia in her veins, and this random tiny knight who, mind you, fought tooth and nail to be her escort ends up finding his role before her? She is riding the struggle mule up Mount Lanayru (and I don't really blame her). And when she's exploring the shrines?? She makes it very clear to him she can work independently and does not need an escort, which although understood (freedom is a peace everyone strives for) she is careless regardless of her careful planning and efforts. She's a Princess, wandering Hyrule unarmed (and without her powers) with a horse as her only mode of transportation. You won't see yourself as a target even if they're pinned on your back, and with her determination to utilize these mysterious shrines as more Sheikah tech is being discovered is making her blind in remembering where she's placed in social status. It's dangerous, and I'm glad Link is there to see what she fails to see.

That's another thing too. As they progress and strengthen their friendship, Zelda sees Link as a mirror to question what her role really means. She uses him as guidance to help understand her situation, asking him "If you were told your whole life This is what you're meant to do, to take up your family's legacy...but one day realize this isn't what you want, would you still take the path you've been told to take?" In this case I think it's safe to say this is what Link knew he wanted. He loves being an aid to those in need, and becoming a knight despite following his father's path, this felt like his true calling. The spirit of the hero is VERY strong in his soul, and when he sees someone in need of help [Zelda] he's going to aid them whether they want it or not.

But Zelda still feels so lost, she feels so disconnected from her ancestors, as the previous daughters in the royal families were Given their powers at birth and meant to be awakened when the time has come. They were all given the gift of premonition, to be a medium for Hylia and a messenger of the gods, and overall able to keep Ganon away from the world no matter how many times he crawls back from the depths of hell. Being told your whole life you're meant to be like your ancestors, but not being able to fulfill any of those roles? It makes the past seem like one giant fairy tale when in you're in BotW Zelda's shoes.

No voices, no premonitions, no secret awakenings...Nothing.

At this moment, I finally understood why Urbosa said to Revali about Link. She said he is a constant reminder of Zelda's own failures. Link found his calling by following his instinct. Zelda has yet to figure out what she really wants, and is clouded by judgements not only from her father and people, but from herself too. With every passing day she is undergoing a meltdown, questioning if she is even meant to be apart of this whole plan anymore, probably something among the lines of "Was it meant to be someone else? I'm the only daughter, and yet I can't even do my one job." She lost everyone and everything, she's frightened, it feels like she's lost her faith in the gods, or even dare say, the gods lost faith in her.

But through absolute despair when Link just about gives his life for her protection, that's when it all clicked. She found her power and strength through Link, who was the one that, all this time, taught her about what she needed to do to awaken her powers without even directly telling her. Every conversation she had with him, she saw herself in Link. She saw all the effort he gave into becoming a royal knight, the unwavering determination in his eyes with every Lynel he slew, a never ending supply of optimism and hope no matter how high the stakes were. And yet he was also Free. He followed his path blindly, not even knowing where he'd end up, as long as he knew he was

able to protect those in need. And she wanted that.

He was her mirror, and Zelda managed to awaken herself when that mirror cracked.

Living the burden of being part of a prophecy and saying you're ready for anything, is very reckless. Understanding the heaviness that comes with sacrifice is not truly understood until it starts happening to you.

Zelda found her wish, her independence through Link. Her mind is finally clear and she understands what her role means in all of this.

She is meant to protect, to save, to understand more than just personal loss.

Zelda couldn't stand by idly anymore after everyone told her to do something else and let others handle the job. That was the last straw when Link stood in front of her, shield weak but at the ready when that guardian approached. She saw the desperation and said NO, which finally broke her seal. She chose to sacrifice herself, igniting her powers just as Hylia did for her people. She chose to save her last, literally dying hope, because Ganon cannot be fought alone.

He was the connection, the literal link, she needed to awaken her powers. And I just find that so fucking great.

Anyways thanks for coming to my TED talk I've been typing this for like 4 hours now

#hHGDFJDF SORRY THIS IS SO LONG #dont tag as zelink pls i tried keeping this ambiguous as possible thank #the legend of zelda #botw #aoc spoilers #sorta #cat talks #also my thoughts are flying faster than my fingers #so this might skip and jump around #my adhd welcomes you

[mmvalentine]

Prompt request perhaps?? I’d love love love to think morrigan had a crush on feyre the first time she came to the night court and stayed with Rhys for a week - and I wonder what would’ve potentially happened if feyre took morrigan up on her offer to hangout…. Or, maybe, if they hook up after the bat boys head into the birchin. You are so so talented and ilysm

Awww ilysm toooo okay just a lil fluffy one just for you x

One Perfect Breath

The truth was, that amongst the Night Court and its inner circle, Morrigan was the only one Feyre really felt comfortable with. The Illyrians had power rolling off them, one of them seemed like he could flatten you and not even notice, and the other seemed as distant and unknowable as the moon herself. Amren was literally not all-fae and showed very little interest in Feyre besides. And Rhys… well, Feyre didn’t know where to begin with the High Lord.

But there was something so easy about Morrigan, something so unapologetic and unclouded in her lovely face that Feyre found herself drawn quickly to the female. It was like of everyone here, Morrigan was the only one who said what she really meant. Who was telling the whole of the truth.

So all week Feyre avoided Rhys and his entourage, but let Mor in every time she came knocking.

Which was every single day, promptly in the morning as Feyre was finishing breakfast. Sometimes Rhys ate with her, more often he was elsewhere and Feyre ate alone. But it seemed that every time she pushed her plate away, the golden haired fae was at her bedroom door.

Not that Feyre minded in the slightest. In the year that she had been at the Spring court, she had gotten to know Lucien and taken Alis as an advisor and confidante. Tamlin’s body was as familiar to her as her own. And yet with Mor, Feyre suddenly felt like she had… a friend. Someone who sought her out purely for the joy of her company. Feyre didn’t know that she had ever had that in her life before.

So she found herself on the last day of her week in the Night Court, not with the High Lord but with Mor, lounging across a plush velvet sofa and watching the twinkle in Mor’s eyes as she laughed. Unguarded as ever, and all the more charming because of it. Feyre could see why she was so well loved here.

Feyre had woken early that morning with a strange mix of relief and anxiety to be retuning home. Of course she wanted to go home… but she had successfully avoided thinking about her almost-wedding, and wasn’t ready to think about it now. Mor arrived before breakfast, as if she knew Feyre needed her, and had been a welcome distraction.

They had been comparing preening techniques of their respective High Lords, since Feyre had let it slip that Tamlin spent a half hour brushing his hair everyday. Mor had laughed so hard she snorted, and then divulged that Rhys’ skin care products cost more than hers did.

“But you’re immortal and perfect,” Feyre said, confused. Mor laughed. “I forget sometimes that you used to be human. I never met you before you were fae.” “Well tell me then,” Feyre said, leaning her face on her fist. “What unforgivable flaws do you have?” Mor made a face. “Well no, I have none, obviously.” She grinned. “But Rhysand is a drama queen, Tarquin’s clumsy, and…” here she paused to look around her. They were alone, but she still leaned forward conspiratorially. “I hear in the Spring Court they’re terrible lovers.”

At this, Feyre blushed deeply. “Well,” she stammered. “I don’t think that’s entirely true.” Mor rolled her eyes. “My dear, I’m afraid you’re not exactly a reliable source. You only had human lovers before Tamlin, isn’t that true?” “Well, yes,” Feyre admitted. “Then you wouldn’t know,” Mor said. Feyre lowered her voice. “So you think fae in general are better in bed than humans?” “Honey all we do is throw parties and go to war and fuck around. What else are you supposed to do when you’re immortal? I literally have had centuries of practice. And you’re telling me you hadn’t noticed a difference?” Mor fell back in mock horror. “Dios mío,” she said. “You’re wasted on Tamlin.”

“Okay,” Feyre said with uncertainty. “That makes sense. Well I guess either way I’m content and that’s good.”

Mor sat back up. “Are you sure?” she asked. “You’re not curious to know what you’re missing out on?” Feyre shook her head. Mor crossed her legs under her and leaned in closer. 

“Are you sure?” she whispered. “You wouldn’t want even one, perfect kiss?” She looked down at Feyre’s lips. “Um…” Feyre swallowed. Mor looked back up, and her brown doe-eyes were luminous in the soft dawn light.

“All I know,” Mor said, now only inches from Feyre’s face and suddenly serious. “Is that life can be full of such pain and sorrow.” Indeed there was a now depth in her look, an ancient hurt, that Feyre wanted so badly to smooth away. “And so any chance I get, I choose beauty.” Feyre’s eyes flicked to the rose of Mor’s mouth as she emphasised the last word. “I choose the lovely, perfect things, even if they only last the space of one… short… breath.”

And then Mor kissed her, and time stopped altogether. Feyre’s heart thundered in her own ears, her blood was free-falling though her veins, and she was very certain in that moment that she had never tasted anything so sweet as Mor’s lips.

“Mor!” They were interrupted by a deep, rolling voice.

They broke apart, and Mor looked up innocently at her High Lord.

“What?” she asked, eyes wide and lips slightly parted.

“Behave,” Rhys replied sternly, his brow furrowed but his mouth twitching.

Feyre just shook her head, dazed. The heady floral scent of Mor was a haze around her head, and even as the female squeezed Feyre’s fingers and trailed out of the room, the memory of her smell and her whispered touch still lingered.

“I must apologise for my cousin,” Rhys said, still looking like he was fighting back his smile. “That’s… alright,” Feyre struggled out. She searched for her lost breath but couldn’t quite find it. “Time to get you home then?” Rhys asked. “Of course,” Feyre said quickly. “I, ah, will collect my things.”

Then she wandered one way, realised it was the wrong way and turned around, and eventually got herself ready while Rhys watched with stars in his eyes and an amusement that he kept carefully under his tongue.

****

Thanks again to everyone who has been sending me prompts, you are sending them faster than I can fill them so if you don't see yours yet please be patient with me!

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @thalia-2-rose @positivewitch @asteria-of-mars

#asks #prompt fill #feysand #feysand fic #acotar #mine #fluff

[roguestarsailor]

You know what since we’re still in quarantine and i have nothing else better to do, i need to obsess over ACOTAR. I don't like a court of frost and starlight. For the longest time I couldn't figure out why I didn't like it. I aggressively read the book in maybe a day and I closed it feeling frustrated and annoyed. My version had A Court of Silver Flames preview so that definitely contributed to my annoyance greatly.

It's because it felt too perfect. Everything that had happened -- after the entire war was fought and won, they just go back to their normal lives? Yes there were hiccups and yes there were still aspects that made every IC character feel like their problems aren’t solved yet...but it didnt feel right. yes i enjoyed the snowball fight between the bat boys, feyre + rhys sexy time, and those little comfort moments too, the slice of life type things and seeing feyre accomplishing her goals and how hopeful the future seems BUT its too fast. the good parts of the book did not offset the bad parts of it.

Feyre literally accomplished pretty much every single goal she made back in ACOMAF just like that?? within a span of what a few months? a year?? She really came back from an entire war -- probably the first war of many since she's immortal and just like that, after her 21st birthday: she gets a whole entire estate, wants to start poppin babies, opens her art studio and starts teaching kids and then acting like she can rule an entire court?? the timeline is sooo short esp since its been brought up over and over again how everyone is literally 500 years old and have a super “messy” history and their changes seems to come super dupe slowly. but feyre, who has only lived 0.000000002% of her fae life, is out here thriving just fine???

the war devastated thousands of illyrian soldiers where its changing the politics of the illyrains and the faes, all of whom feyre has responsibilities over too as high lady. the mortal queens are still at large who left the humans on prythian to die which is why feyre was willing to go to war in the first place! what about the rest of hybern and their land and residents?? they wanted to enslave humans for social and economical reasons! then what about integrating humans w deep hatred and fear with deeply prejudice fae??? there’s also spring and summer court who are literally in ruins. thats literally so much. so idk how feyre is just chillin???? she gonna let rhys do all the hard work???

like feyre sit down. u should not be having a baby. esp since it took u literally a 700 pages to heal from those 3 months UTM. ur telling me shes gonna whole heartedly bring in a newborn in a war devastated world, with civil unrest (illyrains, other courts), with the messiness of human and fae integration, with trauma u and rhys will have to continue to overcome esp after THIS war??? even helping ur sisters w their traumas??

this is a personal opinion on this subject (and maybe my thoughts will change on this later on; opened to other thoughts) but when i read the part about how that weaver/seamstress artist who made that dark quilt that feyre loved talked about how her mate of 300 years didn’t come back from the war and her biggest regret was that she didnt have a kid to remember him by i just thought ur kid isn’t some sort of memorabilia. don’t have a kid to keep the memory of ur mate alive; have a kid cuz u want a kid purely for the sake of having a kid. ur memories and photos and shit will keep their memory alive but its not having a kid. some primitive need to keep the genes alive maybe?? but the way it was phrased and then in turn how feyre was like oh i need  a baby pronto cuz rhys might die in the next war and regret not having a kid with him didn’t sit right with me. also the other couple were together for +300 years and have a rich life together, while shes been with rhys for literally two years THATS NOTHING IN FAE YEARS. thats still the honeymoon phase and also ur problems arent even close to being over!!!

everyone was shitty to nesta. in ACOMAF, we saw how much the IC went through and still did all they could to help feyre. what made them not think nesta deserve the same welcome? nesta is mean as a defense but did no one try to figure out what would help (amren got close but shes so under developed)??? feyre knows nesta feels too much and yet she continued to be shitty. continued to flaunt her wealth, her status, her familiarity/borderline know-it-all attitude about fae/night court, her ~estate~. forcing nest to the solstice party when nesta was literally like i dont belong, im looking at everyone through a window type of thing; the fire cracking triggering her, etc. what kind of power play was that when she made nesta come to her estate, where nesta could SEE how ~homey~ and how suscessful feyre is and fully see all the lovely paintings of everyone feyre loves that explicitly exclude her to tell her to fuck off to a war camp?? bro???? cas was a dick too and elaine was rude. i think a lot of his actions were meant to make her angry since anger keeps u fighting (as was the method of rhys for feyre in ACOMAF) but what he said was stupidly shitty and i demand that he apologize properly. elaine could have done more to help her sister but whatever. mor was definitely an ass too (and im upset for how little her character growth is). 

Lucein. that man can’t catch a break tbh. im happy that hes w the band of exiles cuz he is whole heartedly accepted there. feyre was definitely an asshole to him even tho he helped as much as he could throughout the books. he tries so hard w elaine as well and it did hit my heart a bit when she was like gloves to work in my garden?? no ?? i use my bare hands see oNly aZiReL sEeS mE fOr WhO i Am. and at the same feyre is like flaunting her mate status to lucein which is mean as shit. its like this man can’t find love in prythain. then tamlin sending him his box of his things??? thats for sure brutral. tam was literally his partner through it all; savior of sorts even. no love from IC, no love from elaine, no love from feyre, no love from tamlin, no love from autumn court rejected everywhere! also HIS TRUE FATHER?? HEllo??? 

then on tamlin. i pity the guy! was i suppose to feel that way??? it felt like he is allowed to get a redemption arc and maybe i’ll even root for a redemption arc??? i was absolutely excited for freysand in ACOMAF but after ACOFAS, im like tamlin is....not completely bad??? his relationship w feyre was bad and the controlling parts were very much a no-no. i dont truly understand the dynamics of an abusive relationship but i can understand that it can be insidious and its the little things that hurt the victim. and i felt  feyre through ACOMAF and rooted for her to escape her abuser! but then it felt like i dont think he was doing any of those things out of malice. ill say tamlin is a bad leader and doesn’t know how to run a court outside of what he sees his father do. his understanding on everything is based on the traditions of the past which i think fueled most of the things he did i.e. not telling feyre she was in danger since maybe his mom didn’t do those war planning things. ACOTAR showed how he truly cared/loved and took good care of feyre and her family. he even talked about how he didn’t believe in the enslavement of humans! i think that tam wanted to preserve what he thought was the good (aka feyre + her love of painting) and get back a sense of control that he and his entire court lost while chained to amarantha. but at the same time, i think he truly thought feyre wasn’t safe. he knows rhys can crush minds and knows feyre can’t read/write so when he got that letter telling him shes safe of course hes gonna flip shit and made a deal w the devil (although those temper outbursts were DEFINITIVELY not ok!!!). he also didn’t listen and has sense of he knows best when feyre was not the type of person. but feyre destroyed his entire court. he lost all his sentries who literally went out to die for him during amarantha’s reign. he lost lucien too; his trusted right hand man. his people were cursed for 50 years and then continued to suffer UTM and was in the process of rebuilding too!  but just seeing spring court, WHO BORDERS THE HUMANS, be in ruins where his subjects left him, his people left him and hes all alone in the manson?? that was sooo sad. so im like why does what feyre did not feel satisfactory????? im mad that it didn’t feel right??? maybe there wasn’t a point where feyre talked to tamlin -- like really talked to him esp w her new found voice and power, etc. anyways, i dont hate tamlin and was like oh shit i think feyre fucked up a bit there.

rhys is a dick to nesta. which made me think, if feyre wasn’t his mate would he extend the same love and care to her???  i loved how he tried so hard to make sure feyre was ok. made sure she wasn’t breaking! all of it! but for nesta, he had the audacity to use his high lord voice and be an ass overall. even tho he can see how cas is fucken in love??? even just how he talks to cass feels off too. 

i’ll even go as far as to say because of how terrible ACOFAS was, it created this intense divide within the fandom. i remember reading the first three books and was absolutely 1) rooting for freysand  2) curious about the sister relationship and how it will be mended 3) i definitely didn’t hate nesta nor did i hate elaine either -- but i was adament about them talking it out with feyre for those tough times 4) saw a more realistic and charming healing arc 5) was rooting for feyre to be a stronger voice and grow into herself 6) love the dynamic of the inner circle + feyre

but after ACOFAS, I have this intense need to defend nesta and was super mad at how she was treated after the war and in turn a deep dislike for elaine for both her lack of agency, lack of grit that made all the other characters interesting, and lack of care for her sisters (who showed how much they would risk for her). i dont hate rhys but i was extremely not happy with him and his attitude and behavior. feyre became more arrogant and was acting like how asshole rhysand would act. like her life is perfect now and i was not rooting for her anymore. freysand didn’t feel like they have complimenting qualities that made them interesting in the first place but rather they are merging to become the same person but in a bad way. that mind reading thing was cute in the beginning but it became insufferable since all thoughts were shared so seamlessly it made reading feel weird. 

anyways those are my thoughts on ACOFAS. it was a 1/5 stars for me and im mad those events transpired. reading the other books made me excited to know what was gonna happen and i was truly ready to accept the characters as flawed and nuanced as they are. im not mad about character not liking each other but i am mad that everything felt off. ACOFAS just felt regressive in some parts and forced in other parts. i know not everything ends in a nice tied up bow but this book single handily ruined what i thought about these characters in the worse way possible. this book wasn’t suppose to wrap up all the problems that exists in the other books but it didn’t feel hopeful like i thought it would. it didn’t feel wrapped up and didn’t feel like i should be excited about the next books. theres so many missing pieces i feel that i think need explaining and at the same time, i think it introduced too many problems at once which made it feel like its jumping around everywhere. although im still excited for ACOSF because i love nesta, and nesta deserves so much better and i want to have hope that this bad ending will either make sense later on or it was just a blimp.

#amandathoughts #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acofas #a court of frost and starlight #sarah j maas #freye #rhysand #nesta archeron #tamlin #lucien #cassian #late night thoughts #acotar rant #nesta stan #updated with memes #just to break up the novel i wrote #feyre #feyre archeron #high lady feyre #amandabookthoughts

[lebguardians]

This will be the first “story” I’ve ever written. Woke up today kinda of wanting to write but definitely scared 😂. Don’t know if this would even go anywhere. I love Charles Brandon’s character development in the Tudors and there isn’t many fanfics on his character so I figured I’d give it a go? Maybe?

Warnings: angst, fluff, eventual smut, feel free to message me if you feel I should add some.

I don’t have a title idea, so if someone does after reading it let me know and I’ll definitely give you credit.

The Lady Y/N Windhelm was sent to court after the rebellion in the north to make sure her father, the Duke of Windhelm, stayed loyal. Y/N never agreed with the rebellion against His Majesty, she begged and pleaded with her father to stop his part in the rebellion. When the fighting was done and over, the only reason he wasn’t hanged as a traitor was because her father was good friend’s with King Henry’s father.

Forever branded as the traitors daughter, Y/N did everything she could to blend in with the crowd towards the back at some feast she was forced to attend. She was a shy girl, not that she had anyone to talk to if she could. No one wanted to be associated with her. It was no surprise she was unwed either. Standing at 5’1, she was a slim woman, dark brown hair that reached her bottom, fair skin, blue eyes. Currently she was pressed against a wall, almost trying to blend it with it as to not be seen, her long hair thrown up into a simple hairstyle, and wearing the plainest dress she owned. She prayed no one recognized her.

She looks around the crowd with a sigh. The king with his wife were at the high table laughing and eating, both of whom were surrounded by His Majesty’s counsel. All seemed to be having a good time besides the King’s best friend, the Duke of Suffolk, Charles Brandon. He seemed to be in the middle of another argument with his wife.

Feeling the air getting too hot, Y/N decided to take a step outside to get some fresh air and maybe sneak away back to her room. If she had it her way. She would stay there with her books and needlework. Y/N stepped toward the edge of a balcony and leaned over, enjoying the feeling of the cool spring breeze on her flushed face. She hated wearing these cursed dresses. They are so hot and uncomfortable. She lost herself in though looking out to the trees. She longed to return to the north. The rolling green hills, the sea, riding on her horse for hours, mostly until the moon was high in the sky. She smilied faintly at the memory of her father being so enraged when she came back way too late for his liking. His face beat red with anger and worry. Then the horror passing through his face when he noticed she was wearing trousers before shaking his head and letting out a deep laugh at his only daughter’s shananigans. Y/N missed him deeply.

Y/N was lost to her thoughts and lost track of time. She startled suddenly when a door slammed behind her. She quickly turned and saw the Duke of Suffolk. He looked very angry, his jaw clinched, fists balled up. He looks up and noticed that he startled Y/N. The Duke had brought her back to court on His majesty’s orders. Quite literally kicking and screaming for her father. The sound of her screams stayed with the Duke. The Duke sighed deeply and said,

“Forgive me, my lady. I didn’t know anyone was out here.”

Y/N curtsied, her body beginning to fill with rage at the sight of the Duke. She swore to herself that she would never forgive him for ripping her away from her home and family. “Your Grace.” She replied stiffly. “I was just leaving” she quickly walked past him, wanting nothing more than to run to her room and shake the memories away. The Duke stepped to the side letting her pass, a guilty look passing through his handsome face. The Duke let out a sigh, wiping a hand over his beard. The Dutchess informing him eariler that she was returning to Suffolk with their son and not returning. Rolling his eyes at their argument. He didn’t blame her. Not really. He loved her deeply but he know she would never love him again.

He walked to the edge of the balcony where Lady Y/N stood earlier. He know she was miserable. Who could blame her. He begged for his friend to reconsider bringing her here. He know court would not be kind to the girl. Charles heard the gossip about her around court. The horrids things said to her and behind her back. He heard her soft cries when he passed her room. Taking a deep drink of his wine, he stood straight and headed back into the hall.

Lady Y/N was making her way back to her room, praying no one would see her tears. She heard a group of the Queen’s maidens, laughing about her. Saying thing like she would never find a husband and eventually the King would be bored with her embarrassment and send her to a convent. She finally reached her room and quickly started shedding the layers of her dress, before dressing into something comfortable for the night. She fell asleep crying.

6 months later.

Charles Brandon grew increasingly worried about Y/N. It was noticeable that she has lost quite a bit of weight and that she barley eats a thing, only leaving her room when commanded. Her face has lost all its color and then circles under her eyes quite noticeable. The Queen, Jane Seymour, taking notice as well.

The Queen was kind to Y/N. Most mornings breaking fast with her in private as to not spark more rumors. She worried about her greatly and has tried to persuade the king to send her home with no luck. When she was finally able to get Y/N to open up and talk, y/n spoke often for her love of the north and how much she missed it and her father.

After eating his food, Charles decided to talk to the king about sending y/n back. He worried she would get sickly and die and didn’t want another death on his already heavy conscience. He walked to the king’s quarters.

“His Grace, the Duke of Suffolk”, he heard the groomsmen announce.

“Ah Charles, I was just going to send for you, come sit” the king stated joyfully.

Charles raised an eyebrow at the king’s joyful mood. “His majesty seems to be in a good mood today.” He noted. The king smirked before handing him a letter. Charles furrowed his eyebrows, opened the letter, quickly reading it. His head snapped up to the king, he ran a hand through his grown out curls, and then ran a hand down his face.

“Forgive me, your majesty, but I’m confused” his mind was racing. A million different thoughts running through it. The king finding a loophole, allowing Charles to divorce his wife and marry again if he so chooses. Catherine made it quite clear she wouldn’t love him again nor would allow him to bed her. The King was able to use this and allow for a divorce on the grounds that Her Grace wouldn’t fullfill her duties.

“What’s there to be confused about Charles, it’s clear your miserable. You don’t smile nor joke as you used to my friend. I worry for you” the King replied, taking a bite of some foreign fruit Charles hasn’t seen before. “In any case it’s done and now settled. You are no longer married to Catherine. Don’t think I haven’t already noticed you eyeing another. A certain lady of Windhelm” the king said with a smirk on his face.

A shocked look passed over the Duke of Suffolk’s face. “Your majesty, it’s not like that at all. I’m concerned for the girl. She’s gotten quite sickly and depressed. I came here today to beg of your mercy and allow her to return home.”

A very angry look passed over the king’s face as he stood up. “I’ve already made it quite clear to my wife that I won’t tolerate in meddling and that includes the you as well Charles. The girl is staying here as assurance her father won’t rebel again. They are both lucky I didn’t take their heads. The only mercy she’s getting is me allowing her to marry and not be sent off to some convent.”

Charles was getting very irritated and seeing where the king was going with this. “So what, you’ll force the poor girl to marry me, making her even more miserable? She won’t marry me. I’m the one who ripped her from her home and family and everything she’s ever known. She can’t even look at me without running scared. Forcing me to marry into yet another unhappy marriage? What game are you playing at?”

The king was enraged and slammed his fist down and began yelling. “You’ll marry the girl and that’s the end of it. You remember, you owe me after what you pulled with my sister, Charles. I may have forgiven you but I haven’t forgotten. You will marry her and ensure her loyalty to me and secure that her family remains loyal. The north looks to her family for whatever reason. If they stay loyal the rest will fall in line.” The king stood and stormed out the room. Neither of them realizing some of the Queen’s maidens overheard them arguing about this and decide to make their way to y/n.

Charles stormed out. Everyone moving out of his way seeing just how angry he is. He paced his quarters, his curls a mess from him running his hands through them so often out of frustration. How would he be able to break the news gently to y/n? What he didn’t realize was the women that overheard already telling y/n for no reason other than to be jealous over the fact they werent able to marry the handsome Duke.

Y/n was sitting under a tree working on a needlework, enjoying the sunny spring day for once. She decided to take the Queen’s advice and get out of her room. She was depressed and very home sick. She knew her dresses didn’t fit as they did before and she didn’t have much of an appetite. The Queen was very kind to her. She thought it was apart of a game when the Queen approached her. She quickly realized how kind of a woman the Queen is and began so slowly open up to her. She enjoyed the morning that they ate together.

Y/n heard footsteps approach her. She looked up and saw it was the Queen’s maidens and quickly looked down and picked up her work and stood up to walk away in hopes they would leave her be. She quickly remembered why she didn’t leave her room unless forced to. They called her name and giggled.

“Can I help you with something” y/n said politely. They giggled again.

“Have you heard?” The one on the right asked while the one of the left kept giggling.

“Heard what exactly?” Y/n asked cautiously.

“The king in mercy is allowing you to marry” the left one stated with clear amusement. Y/n grew pale and her hands began to shake.

The one on the right noticed her state. “Yes we heard the king arguing with the Duke of Suffolk not long ago. It seems the king has found a way for the Duke to divorce his wife and has arranged your marriage to him”

A cold sweat breaks out across y/n. She turns and quickly walks off all but running back to her room. Her mind is racing. How is this mercy? Being forced to marry the man that ripped her from her family? A part of her knew that it was on the kings orders and that he was the unfortunate one to have to follow. But she still blamed him.

She barley noticed the people she was passing, not even realizing she rushed past Charles so quickly he almost didn’t notice. She was beginning to hyperventilate, her breath coming in and out quietly, tears streaming down her pale face. Cursing the tight dress she was forced to wear she heard her name being called and a hand on her arm. She looked up to see none other than Charles Brandon himself.

“Let me go” she spit out. All she wanted to do was hide in her room.

“Lady y/n, wait, what’s wrong?” Charles asked very concerned at her current state. Anger flashed through her eyes.

“As if you don’t know what’s already wrong Your Grace.” Y/n breathing quickened. Guilt passed through the Duke’s eyes before confusion.

“My Lady, please I only just found out myself. How could you have found out so quickly. I was just coming to tell you myself”. Charles tried to reason. Y/n snorted

“You know as well as I that secrets don’t stay secrets for long in this hell.” She was beginning to see black edges in her vision. She was scared and panicking.

“My lady, you need to breathe” Charles told her as she began to wobble on her feet.

“No, I won’t do it, I won’t marry you” she gasped out, shaking like a leaf “I want to go home. I want my father” she cried before her eyes rolled back into her head and she passed out.

“Fuck!” Charles exclaimed, catching her before she hit the ground. “Go get a damned doctor and send them to my quarters” he cursed at a nearby guards. Charles picked her up and walked quickly back to his quarters, laying her down on his bed. He stepped out the room and allowed the doctor to look over her. He sat in his chair in front of the massive fireplace and stared into the fire. Not looking up as the doctor came out.

“Lady y/n will be alright and needs rest and nourishment. She is very thin and has been through. Shock”

Charles said nothing and nodded his head not moving from his spot. He let out a big sigh, running a hand through his hair. He hopes he can one day earn her forgiveness or they will both remain miserable.

Let me know what you think!

#henry cavill x reader #charles brandon #henry cavill #the tudors #fanfic

[amphtaminedreams]

Paris Haute Couture Week S/S 2020 Plus a Little Jacquemus: Okay, Dior DID Suck (Part 1/2)

Hi to anyone reading,

Oh my god. I completely forgot there was also 2 haute couture weeks. I FEEL SO OVERWHELMED. Here I was getting all geared up for the F/W 2020 shows and suddenly it’s Jean Paul Gaultier’s last show and everybody’s (predictably) buzzing about the Jacquemus collection. I can’t keep up. But Haute Couture week is a lot less intense than the RTW shows so I suppose I should be enjoying this relative peace whilst I can. 

I remember my last post about Haute Couture week opened with me defending Maria Grazia from the wrath of the internet; if Jacquemus is social media’s Lord and Saviour, this woman is the Antichrist. She’s Michael Langdon minus the dramatic flair. But the thing is, I genuinely really liked the Dior collection last time. Maybe because I was newer to the discipline of scouring Vogue Runway, but the lack of originality didn’t bother me; it was still something I’d die to wear, gothic yet delicate and relevant for 2019. 

That being said, this time round, I have to open by doing the exact opposite and concurring: this time round, Dior was in fact, utter shit.

I feel mean saying it but...really? These were the slightly more salvageable outfits and my favourite of the bunch, and to be honest they don’t really capture the full extent of how outdated this collection was to me. I know that the concept behind the show was this idea of the divine feminine but Greek Goddess has been done SO many times. If you’re gonna go down that route, you have to bring something new, elevate it in some way. It can’t be THIS generic.

I can’t believe that in 2020 we’re really seeing plaited hairbands. The individual dresses are basic, but not so much the problem as the styling; they look like outfits I would’ve put together back in 2012. That’s not an exaggeration. I think even 2013 me would appreciate that you need to make things a little twisty. 

The colour scheme is pretty, don’t get me wrong, and I like the cowl necks-the white dresses are the highlights. I think the concept of this collection was conceived with all the best intentions. But as a designer you need to take risks and I don’t see one single risk here; there isn’t anything that wouldn’t already be sold in your local H&M. Dior is such an established brand, Maria Grazia has room to do whatever she wants. And yet it just comes across like she’s out of ideas. 

You’ve got to look at a designer like Ulyana Sergeenko:

When I say elevated (but still in the vein of wearable), I mean something like this. To be completely honest, I hadn’t heard of Ulyana Sergeenko until I saw shots of this show on Twitter. But what a perfect mix of kitsch and glamour. The influences are clear: Priscilla Presley, Barbie, Jackie O, Valley of the Dolls, the rich stay-at-home wife of the 60s, the Alessandra Rich/Scream Queens-esque sorority girl, Paris fucking Hilton. It’s exaggerated and it’s tongue in cheek with total grounds to call it trashy-there’s a corset resembling a Benjamin Franklin, ffs-but it’s all done with a wink and a nudge. And in all honesty, I just think it’s beautiful. Can you imagine Frances O’Sullivan (@Beautyspock on IG) in one of these looks? It would be worthy of the Rose McGowan cultural reset meme ten times over.

Everything is feline, from the very literal cat silhouettes and cat headed boa, to the makeup and the hair clips. It reminds me of the last RTW Ralph and Russo show but with even more attention to detail. And look at the STAGE. If this collection were a song, it’d be Disco Tits by Tove Lo. And no, I’m not just saying that because one of the dresses actually does feature a (cat shaped) disco tit. Like these are the clothes I dreamed of putting my Bratz dolls, and for null I’m sure, myself in. Absolute perfection. Plus, I’ve loved Coco Rocha since she was on The Face with Naomi Campbell; she is, after all, to thank for the iconic “check your lipstick before you come for me” line. Girl is really the martyr for all purple lipstick lovers, cut down in her prime by a pissed-off Naomi. 

Onto Alexandre Vauthier, which I also really liked. An interesting yet effortless blend of the old and the new, the masculine and the feminine, if I could sum this collection up in one word, it would be cool. I know, it’s not the most descriptive, but it pretty much sums up how I feel; I’m not AS gassed about it as I am about Ulyana Sergeenko or this season’s Elie Saab (wait for it), but it’s a fresh offering, even if the styles aren’t the most groundbreaking. Stand outs for me are the almost petticoat like, debutante dresses which have Elle Fanning’s name written all over them.

I was hard pressed to find favourites in the Armani Privé collection if I’m honest. I’m not saying it was awful, all I know is that it just isn’t my style. It’s all a bit TOO tailored for my liking, and kinda reminds me of the Zara pantsuits my Spanish teacher used to wear. In other words, I find it to be a bit dowdy. On a positive note, the colours, fabrics, and beading are all stunning, so I see that a lot of craftsmanship clearly went into it; I think my biggest issue is the styling and the shapes (or lack of) on show. I’m very much getting a 20s, flapper vibe and whilst that’s an era that fascinates me and that I appreciate was cutting-edge at the time, I’ve yet to see it be bought into the 21st century in a way that doesn’t look stiff or costume-y. 

Then there’s Azzaro. At the complete opposite end of the scale to Armani, it doesn’t look expensive, which I’m sure isn’t something any designer previewing their collection at haute couture week is striving for. BUT that being said, I’d be much more likely to wear something from this collection than I would from Armani Privé. I mean, I have no shot at ever wearing either but ya get me. 

Whilst I’m sure it or something similar has been done before, the mesh diamanté dress is exquisite and I’m a huge fan of the stacked gem chokers and belts. The whole collection looks like something a London socialite who parties by night but (deep breath in) plays in a shitty band so fancies herself a bit of a rockstar by day would wear (exhale) and as much as that doesn’t sound like a compliment, I mean it as one. I’m talking about the kind of person you’d see smoking outside a bar and think “I wish I was them but I am potato lol”. I mean, as far as faux fur and fedoras are concerned, I’m gonna find it hard to completely slate a collection so this is pretty up my alley.

Chanel was a huge step up from their last RTW collection, imo, and probably on par with their last haute couture offering. It’s that same blend of preppy Chanel detailing (i.e the exaggerated collars, the checks and the lace) and practicality, only even more austere this time round.

It’s funny because when I looked back on original notes on this collection, before I’d even done any research into the context, I saw that one of the things I’d written was “giving me Victorian orphanage madame” as well as “something something Amish” and I wasn’t THAT far off base. The collection is, after all, supposed to be a tribute to the nuns who raised Coco Chanel at the beginning of the century in an Abbey-cum-orphanage. This makes me really happy; I know not everyone’s a fan of Virginie Viard’s nods back to the past and the brand’s origins but as a history nerd, I definitely am. 

There’s also definitely a lot of things that can be translated into high street trends here: the combination of decorative white socks and black shoes is something I’ve seen making a comeback already, tulle is always a winner (I actually don’t mind it as an overlay, I think it’s pretty, sue me) and I have no doubt we’ll be seeing these dramatic collars creeping back onto tops and jumpers throughout the year. It’s been a while since they were a thing anyway and we all know how cyclical fashion is.

Another high note for Elie Saab this haute couture season; if I was an expressive person, I probably would’ve audibly gasped as I looked through this collection. It is SO FUCKING MAGNIFICENT. The colour scheme, the baroque prints, the floral sequinned embroidery, these are Cinderella style ballgowns taken to the next level. Elie Saab really is the definition of opulence and I’m not at all mad about it. Please, somebody put Lana Del Rey in one of these, PLEASE. Remind her how much of a princess she is and get her out of those “soccer mom” looks.

I’m so stuck between this collection and Ulyana Sergeenko as my favourite, and the latter might just pip the other to the post, purely because of the staging and extravagance of the presentation itself. 

Georges Hobeika was predictably phenomenal. Like, I’m not going to lie, I am easily won over by some sequins and tulle, I’ve never claimed any different, and if you can expect that from anyone, it’s this guy (ignore that phrasing making me sound like his proud mother). The colour scheme is very spring appropriate and so is the 3D flower detailing, and if there’s anything good to take from Ascot and English royal weddings, Georges Hobeika knows it’s the hats.

It was another strong year for Givenchy too:

Though Claire Waight Keller is also fond of the extravagant details along the lines of feather and tulle, it’s always done in a more organic way; the details are always more reminiscent of nature, something created by accident, than they are suggestive of painstaking attention to detail, the image of someone hunched over a dress beading for hours on end à la Georges Hobeika or Elie Saab. That is not a bad thing at all; if anything, it makes Givenchy more interesting to study and gives you more to think about. Sometimes a dress takes you a bit longer to fully appreciate, but I’d say that only lends to its memorability. This year’s willowy, billowing, and at times coral-esque structures  remind me of something I can see being worn down an Iris Van Herpen runway, set apart by that delicate Givenchy finesse. And side not: I know this post is to talk about the clothes, not the models, but I got super excited over seeing Sora Choi and Adut Akech walk too. 

Guo Pei is always fun to look at. I mean, this collection is giving me half Matryoshka dolls, half It’s A Small World Christmas edition and I can’t hate on that. 

And then there’s Iris Van Herpen, who knocked it out of the park once again. At this point, I wouldn’t expect anything less. Every outfit looks like something that could be exhibited in the Tate Modern (I know, it’s a basic opinion, but it’s true: TATE MODERN IS THE BEST MUSEUM IN LONDON), or honestly, the Design Museum, just for the genius that must go into the way these dresses move. Honestly, if I can see a goddess wearing anything, it’s more one of these looks than anything in the Dior collection. Like wife of Poseidon or something; I know it’s not very feminist of me to not know the Greek Goddess of the sea’s name but I only know who Poseidon is because I was a Percy Jackson fan back in the day so let me live.

It’s not like the whole under-the-sea theme is particularly new, Zimmerman did something similar last RTW (I think? Correct me if I’m wrong), but these constructions could’ve grown out of the sea bed themselves, which is more of an original take than “oo, blue and white and frothy hemlines!”. Additionally, we’ve got these dresses with the overlapping almost plaited fabric that are-we’re sticking with the goddess references here-fit for Persephone ruling over hell. As for the Grudge-looking dress (fourth down, far left), I could be reaching, but is anyone else seeing that as a nod to the oil spills polluting our oceans? Because that would just add yet another layer to this collection. 

Regardless, it’s all impeccable and I’m in love. Iris Van Herpen as a MET Gala theme. Make it happen.

Anyway, to end on a high note, that’s it for this post! 

Sorry it’s such a sudden cut-off but Jean Paul Gaultier was due to be my second to last to review and due to it being the final show, there’s an onslaught of photos that would not fit with what’s already in this post. Plus, I’d rather start a post with Jacquemus then end it as I feel like there’s a lot of hype around his collections online right now so 1). it’s clickbait (for what, I do not know, as I’m not exactly making any money off this blog, just losing my sanity as it transpires when Tumblr accidentally terminated it earlier today and I had a minor breakdown) and 2). this Steve Buscemi meme is the most accurate representation of only 21 year old me to grace the internet:

I will aim to post part 2/2 in the next week, including JPG, as I just mentioned, the Jacquemus co-ed show, Margiela, Valentino and more, and as always, thank you for anyone who read until the end! You are an angel:-)

Lauren x

#haute couture #haute couture week #pfw #paris fashion week #paris #fashion #fashion week #designer #jacquemus #dior #style #review #iris van herpen #guo pei #givenchy #elie saab #sequins #pretty #georges hobeika #chanel #pastels #armani

[lizacstuff]

Liza that 3rd fragman 👀 "if I was born a 100 times I'd fall in love with you everytime" Eda saying this is their last obstacle and nothing can separate them, serkan's "I'll be right back, close your eyes I'm here" If this isn't all a red flag for shits about to hit the fan then I don't know what is LOL (but also how cute to Edser look and them telling each other they love each other very much 😭😭😭)

That fragman is both the SWEETEST and the MOST OMINOUS thing I’ve ever seen. ALL AT ONCE.  

Friends... we’re gonna go through some things.  That being said, everything is going to be great. These writers have been solid so far, and I have faith they have come up with something really interesting to increase the longevity of this show. And I don’t know about you, but I’m prepared to go through some things if it means keeping Eda and Serkan for longer.  (I heart them)

This show is about Eda and Serkan and their love story, at it’s core it’s a comedy, it will all lead to happy things, but... yeah, buckle up! 

I have a lot of asks both about the fragman and last ep, so I’m going to answer a bunch under the cut. 

Anonymous said: The fandom theories about episode 28 have gotten so wild that I literally think the most shocking thing would be if they actually got married and were not separated (emotionally or physically). What if the earlier painful episodes were to make us believe that things couldn't possibly go right in 28 and it's a reverse psychology trick?

You could be right!  I like your thinking. I checked on twitter and I had to back away slowly. The juvenile temper tantrums were too much for me today.  

Look, I think it’s clear something big is coming. It has to, there has to be something that shakes up the show. Some of the theories are more upsetting and catastrophic than others, but the writers won’t do anything that dings either character or their love for one another.  Whatever happens will showcase the connection between these two and the chemistry between the actors, that’s the point of everything, and anything that does those things is gonna be a-okay with me. 

@jan31​ Hi Liza. Do you think we are going to see the wedding in 28 or they will leave it on a cliffhanger for next week. Lots of theories going round mainly cos of Neslihan saying new dimensions coming in episode 29, which could just mean married life etc. I have seen suggestions of memory loss, it's all a dream since episode one. I would personally love Eda to wake up like in episode one but for it to be a total turn around and she is the boss and Serkan the employee. Eda being robot yildiz appeals to me!!! I know it will never happen but leave me here with my dreams!!

I started the day at 90% sure they’ll be married in 28/29, but now I’m down to like 30% that they’ll get married in these episodes. I really, really want them to get married before whatever happens happens, because every scenario I can think of for this reset or starting again, seems like it would be better if they were married.  

However, the shooting spoilers from today, make me question that. Namely the videos where Hande appears to still be wearing the ring on her right hand. We shall see, that could be for many reasons. 

Honestly, though, I wouldn’t hate a memory loss storyline. Seeing one of them (and Serkan’s line in the trailer makes it seem like it might be him) lose their memory and have to fall in love all over again? There are worse fates for a shipper than getting to experience that all again but in a different way.  

Anonymous said: Your response to the fandom drama anon was so good, it's exactly how I feel. While I don't know what the old posts that were like are (that's shady as fuck) I did see all the other drama go down and wow. The actresses def need to stay in their lane and some of the fans, hoooo boy, it's obvious they're young based off their reactions alone. Had to unfollow some people once I realized what they were like. Also some of the IRL shipping reminded me of col*fer stuff, reading into everything and blowing it out of proportion (which then gets picked up by paps....). But you're right in that at least the show related drama is tame compared to OUAT. But still, people being too careless even while they know the paps see everything and harass Kerem and hande (omg did you see the video of hande the other day stopped in the van and she looked so overwhelmed 😔)

You’re referencing this post here about yesterday’s drama. 

Today Neslihan made it worse by addressing everything and claiming she didn’t like all those Hande-bashing posts because... wait for it... she was HACKED. Oy. Hackers got in and went back two years to like gross posts about Hande? Sure, Jan. While I don’t believe that for a second, I guess that at least gives her cover with Hande so they can all pretend it’s true and move on so it’s not awkward on set.  But, yikes, she needs to consult a publicist, she took a narrative that was circulating in certain circles in fandom and made sure all her followers were aware. Not very savvy. 

As for the paps coming after Hande, yes I did see her in the car, she did look overwhelmed. Back off vultures!!! That’s why I think Kerem sometimes throws himself to the wolves so that doesn’t happen. She always handles them like a pro, but you can tell she’d rather be anywhere else on earth than talking to them. 

The pap stuff is worse than I’ve seen before, they’re like vultures circling for any conjecture (sometimes made up out of thin air) they can turn into a question and blame fans. OUAT actors dealt with nothing like this. Also I can’t believe they never ask about the show. Like after last week? They could legit ask about the sex scene which probably would have given them some angle on the actors that they wanted, (especially since it was too hot for Turkish TV) but they let that pass them by, and instead asked the same questions about being together that they never answer. Dumbasses. They are not only awful people, they are awful at their jobs. 

In Van, the paps pay off crew members for info, they always know more than fans. Also I don’t remember stars of my shows getting this level of tabloid attention before. Except for on Riverdale, Lili and Cole generated that level of interest, and while I didn’t pay terribly close attention to them, I feel like they rarely talked to the paps, were just photographed. Also I don’t suspected the CW of calling the paps on them, but I suspect either the network or production company of sometimes calling them on Hande and Kerem. 

Anonymous said: Do you think it’s weird that they didn’t touch the kidnapping at all in either trailer? They might not have filmed it in time for the 1st one but certainly the 2nd. And I’m definitely not complaining about the ones we got because its like a fairytale but the kidnapping was the cliffhanger...? 🧐 I think they should’ve just left the princes storyline at “he went back to his country” but then they didn’t so......

If they’d left his story at just going back to his country, then the Prince really wouldn’t have served his purpose. He was brought on to cause some sort of trouble, so they probably need him to cause the trouble before he goes, lets hope it ends with this kidnapping!

And to answer your question, yes, I do think it’s weird that neither trailer touched on it. On any other show I’d think it was a huge red flag, but on this show maybe not as much because  a) there’s obviously a lot of romance in this episode, it’s not crazy that they are focusing on that to draw people in with the promos  b) this show likes to do cliffhangers that end up being no big deal, that happens a lot.  

Who knows it could turn out to be a big deal that shapes the rest of the episode in some unexpected way (Eda’s captured the whole episode and she’s dreaming about wedding prep, or... who knows) but I think it’s more likely that they resolve in the first 5-10 minutes and then move on.  Since we know from the summary (not that I trust those) that Serkan goes on the bachelor weekend, it feels like the Prince is taken care of prior to that. I don’t think he’d leave her alone for a second if there was a chance the Prince was still a threat. Perhaps Babaanne is pissed he tried to kidnap Eda and tells them she’ll handle it herself???

Anonymous said: Semiha not being in the promo is highkey suspicious. The actress is promoting the episode lol. She's about to Evil Queen this wedding ceremony but you know what, I'm fine with whatever she has planned if they end up married at the end of the day. What's funny is that since a lot of fans these days will assume that there will be shocking negative plot twists, not actually having one here would be a plot twist so I hope the writers keep them together for whatever's next haha

You’re not wrong, at this point, having this wedding take place would be a shocking twist for all of us!  As for Semiha... hmmm... it will be interesting to see what her reaction is to Eda being kidnapped by her pick of suitor. Serkan Bolat might be the son of the man indirectly responsible for her parents death, but he would never hurt her. Take note, Grandbag!  

Anonymous said: Do you mind sharing your speculative scenarios?

After the trailer today, I don’t know if I can even remember some of them. 

Memory loss

Grandma forces Serkan to choose between Eda and his company/wealth,  he chooses Eda and they start over from scratch with nothing

Time jump

AU starting over, showing a different path they might have taken together

Dream

These actors playing different characters in a new story

I don’t think the last three are likely, but they did spring to mind after some of Neslihan’s teases. 

Anonymous said: So this show doesn't get like fantastic ratings (it actually seems to be on the lower end compared to all other dizis airing) but the social media engagement is off the charts. Why is that?!? Is the show just extraordinarily popular internationally? or that this is a "shipping" show? I'm floored by the numbers - its like no other show/fandom is even trying

The ratings were terrific during the summer. But to your point, it has a huge fandom both in Turkey and internationally, but it’s worth noting that most of those charts you see where it beats every other show in every imaginable social metric is just for Turkey.  

It’s one of those lightning in a bottle situations where you get the right property and the right actors together at the right time and magic happens.  And, for sure, the number one reason is the shipping. Shipping drives fandom engagement, and a fantastic ship with a juicy, fun, tropey love story is what this show offers. It also offers up two extremely attractive, talented, likeable leads with off-the-charts chemistry (plus the added speculation about an off-camera relationship that has intrigued more than a few fans, tabloids and gossip sites and fueled interest) who have done a good job of building the fanbase through their social media engagement. Plus the timing is part of it as well. I don’t know about you, but this show hit the spot during this pandemic and the horror of 2020. We all needed this escape. 

Anonymous said:Do you think something happened in the writers room after the backlash of 25 and fan disappointment after Ayse's announcement? I feel like a switch flipped and now we're in fanficland with how much good content we've gotten in these last two episodes. Like I thought maybe they should wrap up the series soon before the characters got completely off the tracks but they may be finding their groove now and I'm interested to see what their next twist is after they can write out Balca/Seymen.

I don’t know about a switch flip, this show has been fanfic land since the first episode!  The tropes! That is how I described it to multiple people when I first started watching: an AU fanfic come to life.

As for the writing changes, no, I don’t think backlash after 25 affected 26 or 27, because 26 was already 90% shot, and 27 already written. However, I assume they themselves could tell that 25 got just too dark and had strayed pretty far from the DNA of the series. While I didn’t think it was bad, it was not fun to watch and this show ought to be fun to watch. 

Let’s hope, however, that the backlash affects future episodes in that they know what works... and what doesn’t.  The last two episodes definitely felt reminiscent of the first batch of episodes. Light, funny, romantic. If they can keep that tone... I’ll be thrilled.

Anonymous said: i didn't realize how much i missed "together" edser until watching 27.. it's been so long since they were "officially" together and we also had such few episodes of it.. ppl have been comparing it to 12 and while in some ways i agree, edser are always so different here than they were there. 12 was them navigating their new relationship.. they were more shy and finding their footing.. here they are very much established, as they should be after knowing their love for so long in comparison to 12!

Yes, it was lovely. You know I’ve preached a lot about how even though Eda and Serkan were broken up, they’ve still been together all this time. And it’s true, but there is something about them truly being together that is magical. We never got enough of that the first time around (a writing mistake in my opinion) and they’re so good together it’s lovely to watch. 

Anonymous said: Serkan not asking for help from Balca when asking his team for help with the marriage gifts preparations and refusing her offer of help when she asked made me so happy. Good job Serkan! He's learning! She's not trustworthy!

Yes, that was a good moment. And he was eyeing her very warily when she offered. The thing I don’t understand is how has no one caught on that she’s working with Babaanne? That entire office is filled with nosy people, has no one remarked on the number of times Balca has gone up to the office or they’ve disappeared for lunch at the same time? Come on Leyla! Come on Melo! Notice these things!  

Anonymous said: Fingers crossed that we finally make progress towards getting rid of Seiman & Balca now that all the girls were drugged and Eda was put in the car in the last episode. Unless Seiman has a change of heart and takes Eda back inside before anyone wakes & the guys get there then the show has to address it. Although I do not think Balca is going to back down unless Serkan straight up tells her he has zero interest in her and never will. Totally fine if that happens in the next episode.

Will Balca backdown even if she’s humiliated like that? She’s so delusional I’m not sure. What I am sure is that she’s dangerous. This came in before we saw the other two fragmans that have no mention of the kidnapping. Hard to picture how that is so easily resolved. Unless she frees herself (which seems unlikely in her groggy state) or maybe Melo’s future boyfriend is able to stop it before they get far?  Or I don’t know. I just know that I want to see Serkan lose his mind and all the other characters see Serkan lose his mind and then I want it to be over. LOL.

Anonymous said: As much as I am loving everything Edser, I cannot wait for Seiman, Balca and Grandma to be gone. And I am even more annoyed to think that the show might try to redeem all 3 characters. All 3 of them are truly awful people and no need to waste air time trying to make the audience think any different. Just my opinion...🤷🏻‍♀️. Show please finally expose those 3 for the psychos they are and get rid of them.

Bye bitches!  I don’t think there’s any redemption for Balca and Seiman. They both have poisoned/dosed people, hard to come back from that.  And there is no need to redeem them because neither is compelling enough to be a long-term character. But maybe Granny, we probably will see a redemption arc for her. 

Anonymous said: i know you were worried a few weeks ago that with ayse leaving as writer, we probably wouldn't have the same sort of comedy as previous episodes... but istg the whole kiz isteme scene, especially with chef alex, had me almost crying with laughter. especially when serkan off the cuff just goes "well if that's an option..." to everyone misunderstanding alex "wanting" ayfer for 2 nights and then eda ready to beat him with the flowers he bought her... comedic gold lmao.

SO GOOD! I was thrilled to see that sort of comedy, the sort of comedy we’d come to expect, from these writers. I think it bodes very well indeed!  

That scene was amazing. I know Neslihan said that much of it was improvised. Probably that line from Serkan (since Serkan is SO out-of-his-mind in love I’m not sure he could even joke about having Eda only two nights a week! LOL) was improv from Kerem, and Aydan asking about the other nights, and Seyfi bringing up the weekend. And Eda’s very Hande-esque “Ser-KAN.” 

I just love rewatching that scene and checking out everyone who is breaking character and just losing it. Cagri most of all. He’s blurred aback there but you can see Ferit spends the whole time laughing or trying to stifle a laugh. Reminds me of Cagri in the scene in 18 when they’re watching the security footage he was losing it in that scene as well. 

Anonymous said: i'm scared - I think they are really about to give us all of these happy EdSer scenes only to have something happen RIGHT before the wedding ceremony due to Babaanne. Based on the last episode, I don't think there's any chance of a breakup (knock on wood) but what if Serkan gets arrested, goes to jail for 2 years, and we get a time jump?

This was sent before the last two teasers, so yes I think something is gonna happen. We shall see!  I don’t really think Serkan going to jail for 2 years is in the cards, at least I hope not!  Besides if Babaanne did that she would have no hopes of ever reconciling with Eda, so that seems unlikely she’d follow through and leave him there for so long a time. 

Anonymous said: With the last week's sex scene, they did a lot of fade outs but the scene was basically still there so it wasn't much wasted effort for the actors. But for what they're teasing in episode 28 - idk how they can get away with showing them in the shower at all if Serkan lifting Eda with her clothes on had required blurring? Is Eda dropping her robe even pushing it? It's intriguing indeed.

Great questions. We’re 36 hours from finding out (well I'm longer than that because I wait for the English subs, hee hee) All I know is I want to see these scenes.. one way or another! 

#sen cal kapimi #edser #Sen Çal Kapımı #sck spoilers #sck specualtion #sckask #sck episode discussion #asklizac #Anonymous

[pomegranates-and-blood]

would you want to preview one of the new nostalgia aus? the snippets have made me so so curious! you could share as little/as much as you’d like❤️

Hi sweetheart! Of course, I’ll tell you about it! You know I’m always up for rambling about my stories lol

I’ll go at it under the cut cause holy shit did I ramble about these. Thank you so much for asking love!

Πραξιδίκη (Praxidice)

The one I’m most pumped about atm. It is also the longest AU I have planned, aside from Hope of course.

Praxidice is one of Persephone’s names, used to refer to her in her subterranean queen title and in her status as the mother of the Furies. It means roughly ‘she who brings justice/revenge’. The name fits, and I wanted it to be a name for Persephone (instead of, say, a river in the Underworld, or an emotion or smth) because the Reader (Persephone) is a different reader from canon Nostalgia, and it is her embracing other part of herself what defines this AU.

This AU changes a lot of the main story, if not everything. The Greeks (that she doesn’t know are alive but now you guys do) sail back to the Mediterranean instead of trying to find her in Scandinavia, presuming her dead; and the Priestess’ motivations about returning to her ‘mother’ are not centered around returning to Greece or her people, but to Sieghild, who represents Demeter as much as Greece/Danae do. Ivar’s progression into letting go of Freydis’ words about pain being a mark of the Gods and thus if you endure it you are rewarded is also much more complicated.

What “If we name things, we make them real. And real things are dangerous things, becuase real things can be taken from you.” or “Bend to the Fates, but don’t let them break you.” is to Nostalgia, “Make the ground where you are defeated the realm where you will conquer. Survive, until spring comes.” is to Praxidice, basically.

I want to explore a few things in this AU, mainly surrounding the characters. This isn’t the Priestess of Nostalgia, this is the Priestess that had Narses put an army at her disposal with a few words of love. This is the Priestess that would make Freydis proud. You know where this is going, don’t you?

This also isn’t the Ivar of Nostalgia. To me, around Chapter 8 he needed only a push to truly fall into the world Freydis told him of, where the Gods reward those who endure pain. The Priestess fighting him every step of the way did help towards him realizing that yeah maybe not, but it also was him realizing his own mistakes along the road (”If you had asked, I would have said yes.” most of all) that truly kept him from having what he wanted.

Her main ambition in this AU will be changed from wanting to return to her people to wanting to return to her mother, and, similarly to how it went with Narses, when the desire for something else (war when it came to Narses, or in this case, survival) trumps any desire for freedom, she will lie through her teeth, no matter the cost. Also, returning to the element of her name: she wants revenge, but Stithulf ain’t exactly the only one she wants revenge against.

And as a result we get a very different Ivar as well. He is getting everything he ever wanted (”You seemed like everything I ever wanted. Not just seemed like it, you were. You still are.”) and he has no reason to distrust it. He is bewitched, this time a tad more literally.

And yeah, drunk on the idea of loving and being loved, sold on the fantasy of this being a reward for his strength, he’s diving head first. It is a more vulnerable Ivar is what I’m trying to say, because, as you can see through Nostalgia, his heart is a good chunk of steps ahead of the Priestess’ (especially towards the beginning) and having her agree with him and promise this is a choice she can make would only make things faster (we know when he falls, he falls hard and fast); all the while the Priestess is very much playing a part. Awful for everyone involved? Yes. Am I a horrible person for writing this? Also yes.

And this also has a new-ish role for Freydis to play. Now, more than ever, Freydis and the Reader are very alike. Still, I will try (keyword try, because I always say that and I write her front and center in every fucking story I can lol) to not focus on her too much.

Anyhow, I will stop boring you with my rambles lol. Here’s two quotes I feel describe their situations very well, the Reader and Ivar respectively:

“From the very womb

of your sadness,

of your old self,

you have come out,

borne of heartache and pain,

yet you have made yourself

this magestic, beautiful new thing.

You and Persephone

share this in common.

From the fires of trauma

where no one expected

your recovery,

you have forged

your own rebirth.”

- Your Trauma Does Not Define You, Nikita Gill

“Tell me that you weren’t hungry that day.

Tell me that’s not what got you to stay.

(...)

I want to believe you had the choice;

I was hearing more than my own voice;

That you opened the palms of your hands

To offer your heart, not meet my demands.

Convince me that you want to be here;

It’s not my trick that keeps you so near.

You chose me. You love me. This is real.

No silly seven seeds sealed the deal.

(...)

Just tell me you weren’t hungry that day.

Just tell me I’m the reason you stay.”

- Hades to Persephone, Ann Schafer

Anyhow, the snippet you requested ended up being like well over 1k, so I decided to post it on its own. You can find it here!

Thank you so much for showing interest in these messes that I write, it means so muhc ot me! Sending you my love sweetheart!

(As for the other AUs, I think I have Elpís/Hope which you guys already know about; Alatheia, the Freydis/Reader AU; and then Phlegethon, which is (because I am such a fucking mess) an AU of Alatheia, though it’s more of an alternate ending/epilogue, I just want Alatheia to be its own story without meddling Ivars making life difficult so the side of the story that focuses more on him is an AU of its own. And I think that is it, for now.)

#answered asks #asks and replies #νοσταλγία asks #Πραξιδίκη asks

[raidbossmadi]

People Like Us: What’s in your Head

If we were to step into your characters' psyche, what would it look like?

Sloane 

When you enter Sloane’s psyche you step into a vast forest, trees so large you cannot see their tops and canopies so thick you cannot see the sky between them. However this forest is neither dark or uninviting. Bird songs punctate the background noise and you can hear a stream somewhere in the distance. Walk for long enough and you’ll eventually stumble on the old cabin Sloane called home on Eden-4. You can find the present version of herself there tending to her daily business, Persephone curled up in the corner of the room watching Sloane work.

Just outside the cabin is an impossibly large painting sitting on an easel, on it the world turns into childish scribbles. If you approach it you’ll find that not only can you step into it but when you do you also turn into a childish scribble version of yourself. Sloane’s childhood lives inside this easel, the innocent young girl who never knew she was going to become a Siren. You’ll find that this part of her psyche operates a lot like a children's picture book,Child Sloane doesn’t think in words she thinks pictures, concepts, colors. Mommy and Daddy are green and calm one moment but can turn red and angry. Things grow and shrink here with little regard for actual proportion. If you encounter Child Sloane she’s very trusting, she assumes you're a friend. You are a friend? Aren’t you?

Or perhaps you see the stone bricked path leading to the right of the cabin, as you walk down it the sound of the forest disappears and a thick fog covers the sides of the path. The only way to go is forward. If you look out into the fog you might be able to make out the shape of something you aren’t sure what and it never gets any clearer. All you know is it is massive, it is ancient, and it is sleeping. You stay on the path and soon enough you’ll be in the dream of Vanagard, an old abandoned temple with a fountain in the middle that runs despite all logic saying it should have stopped years ago. Leda and Steele can be found here sitting on the edge of the fountain or walking around the temple proper. You get the feeling that this is something you could never fully comprehend, but you feel at peace here. Steele will not talk to you, you are not Sloane, She is here for Sloane. Leda is more chatty, you get motherly vibes from the moment you start talking to her, she wants to know what your relation to Sloane is, oh you’re friends? Make sure she’s not working too hard, she’s doing her best.

Maybe the sounds from just beyond the forest call to you and walk abruptly into the Pandoran desert. There are so many people here, a crowd that stretches on forever and they are loud. They turn to you, their eyes are flowers and vines spill out of their mouths yet still they talk, still they beg for absolution. You press on through the never ending crowd until you meet a wall, the Cathedral of the Twin Gods towers over you and towering over it are two silhouettes the only defining features on both red and blue siren markings.

“What’s the Password?” Shadow Tyreen asks her mouth full of razor sharp teeth, you stumble and guess things you know are important to Sloane, Flowers,Vines, Persephone.  Shadow Troy laughs gilded fangs ever present. “There is no password shitweasel, but good try.”  His mechanical arm lifts you up by the scruff of your shirt and puts you over the wall. You realize now the wall has no gate, the only way in was to be brought over by the shadow twins, they are protecting the temple only they decide who goes in or out.   Inside the temple things are much more welcoming, the people have faces and you recognize them. They wear the outfits of temple priests but their all Sloane’s friends, you see yourself among the priests and get a feel for what Sloane’s idealized version of you is like, it's all your best qualities. You walk into the throne room, it’s bathed in pink light and upon the dais sit idealized versions of Tyreen and Troy. It’s a little off putting to be fair, these are manifestations of what Sloane loves about each twin, they are far far friendlier than either twin would ever be in real life. Tyreen says things like “Dear brother, would you mind fetching Sloane, she’s running late for our date.” batting her eyelashes and talking in a too sweet tone. Troy is much the same, there's no tension here no anger or sadness. Everything in this temple is the best of Sloane’s life since joining the CoV and it’s welcoming enough you almost don’t want to leave.

But when you do and find yourself back at the cabin, it’s probably for the best that you don’t investigate the gated garden, as you step towards it the sky darkens and a chill runs through you. This gate creaks open and if you ignore your better judgement and enter anyway you’ll find that the garden is overgrown, weeds and giant thorny vines have taken over what was once clearly a vegetable garden. Continue on and you’ll watch as the vines destroy and overtake anything in their path.  You come across a young Sloane covered in cuts and scrapes.

“I don’t wanna go! Don’t let them take me!” she cries but as you reach to protect her the vines spring from behind wrapping around her legs and midsection pulling her kicking and screaming back into their mass.  Continue forward and you find bodies of scientists wrapped in the tangle, syringe or scalpel still in hand. “This is for your own good.” you hear them say as you walk past along with Sloane’s protests. You will continue to encounter the young Sloane desperate for you to save her but the vines will always win.

Eventually you come to a throne of thorns towering over the landscape,built on the bodies of all the people she’s ever killed, and on the throne, literally one with it, her legs lost in the tangle of vines sits the queen of thorns; Sloane but her markings replaced with thorny vines that cut into skin and bleed constantly. This seems of little consequence to the queen of thorns who merely laughs and fills her chalice with the spilling blood. Her smile shows gilded fangs and when you look her in the eyes, you know that all she wants is to see the world burn. To see humanity laid low for its treatment of her.  But she cannot leave the throne, it is her prison and you feel  safer knowing that this creature, this aspect of Sloane will never see the light of day.

Tyreen

Entering Tyreen’s psyche is entering a place that you cannot easily make sense of. It is a vast Eridian ruin with hallways that curve upwards and stairs out of Escher painting. 

In the center you find Tyreen sitting idly on a sofa that looks entirely out of place. She’s picking her fingernails or her nose, being casual really. What’s really off putting is the fact that every so often an image of Nyriad flashes into existence around the room. She doesn’t say anything but she’s there just long enough to unnerve you. 

If you follow a hallway long enough it’ll lead you somewhere, like Nekrotafeyo. Hostile and cold, the mantas are three times larger than they should be but when they get near you they turn to dust. Young Tyreen sits outside the ramshackle shack her parents built poking bugs with a stick. If you go inside the world turns grey and you feel a tangible sadness wash over you. Leda and Typhon sit vigil at the sides of a bed and in the bed, a sickly young Troy. He’s so small, and he’s getting smaller and smaller. 

You go back outside Tyreen’s a teenager now and Troy’s there too despite having just been in the house. He’s chained to her at the wrist she looks at it and promises she’ll find a way to get it off, that they’ll be free one day. 

Again if you look closely enough around the edges, Nyriad steps in and out of existence.

Or perhaps you see the neon city of Promethea stretching upwards higher and higher. Do the buildings ever stop? People walk past, they walk through you, you don’t exist to them. Tyreen sits on the street corner begging for food, shelter, for help. No one notices her. 

Again Nyriad flickers into being. 

The way to the great stone temple of Vanagard is shattered. You can still walk the steps but they are shaky and uneven. The fog is thick here and in it you can hear the pained noises of a creature beyond. The temple is shattered in two when you get there, literally half of it flowing into oblivion.  

“Not your fault... Shouldn’t be like this...We aren’t a monster…” The words of Nyriad fade in and out. She’s more solid here than anywhere else but you can tell she can’t stay in one place. Her image flickers and vanishes when you try to get close to it. 

Beyond the sofa that Tyreen sits on in the middle of her mind scape is a door and when you open it the darkness of the ruins is bathed in golden sunlight. You walk in and find a room made of gold. Women nude save for their faces which are covered by the solid white masks of the handmaidens. They lounge on daybeds and chaise lounges holding grapes and offering them to you. There is however one person with a visible face, Sloane, who sits demurely on a throne dressed in a lavish gown. Everytime to you try to reach her though the throne gets slightly farther away. It’s not until she laughs at your attempts to reach her and approaches herself that you get any closer to her. Like she willingly has to choose to want to be close to you for that to be allowed to happen at all. 

The atmosphere changes when Sloane steps off the throne though, all the other women disappear, the gilded chamber turning to a comfortable house instead. 

You thought you were heading back to the main chamber but instead you find yourself in a black empty void. 

“T-Ty….help me.” You hear Troy call from all directions. His pain is palpable in the air.  You aren’t even sure what direction you're going in but the cries for help get louder. 

“You lied to me! You lied, again Tyreen!”

“No! That should have worked! Why didn’t it work? This was a mistake we never should have left…” you think that the space might be shrinking. You feel walls you can’t see closing in around you. Just before you can be compressed into a cube the blackness explodes. 

Towering above you is a massive vault entrance. An eye peers out of the vault inhuman and angry, the destroyer. Tyreen stands at the base of the vault  so small in comparison.  

“I understand. We could be gods. That would save Troy. Thank you.” She whispers to no one in particular. Nyriad stands behind her shaking her head frantically, her vision misinterpreted; she tries to touch Tyreen to get her to turn around but fades from existence before she can. 

You stumble out of the void you found yourself in and follow instead an iced over path walking down it you end up in a statue garden in winter. You look at the statues, they're all Tyreen’s friends and family. She sits in the middle of them all crying, she never wanted this to happen.  She reaches for the one of Leda, but it cracks and crumbles as she touches it. 

“Can you ever forgive me, mother.” 

Troy

When entering Troy’s psyche you find yourself in an editing room with only one computer turned on. Troy sits at it working away cursing under his breath. Something about nothing ever turning out quite the way he wants it to. If you try and approach he’ll put up a hand and push you away. Can’t you see he’s working?

A screen lights up despite being off a second before you walk towards it and fall into the screen. You’re on Nekrotafeyo, at least you think you are? Chunks of it open up in gaping holes in the sky and ground visual representations of the holes in his memory. They leak sweat and blood, it’s getting hotter out here. You have no choice but to run for the shack at the edge of it all.

Inside you are very small. An ant, while everyone else is so much taller, Typhon, Leda, a young Tyreen perched on the bed. All the giants speak in soft whispers.

“He’s getting sicker you know.”

“He’ll be alright.” Leda promises.

The temperature in the house is rising again. You climb the tree sized bed post to get to the top. You see Leda cradling her young son in her arms offering him her siren energy. The house begins to cool again things seem calm and serene almost. You’re no longer ant sized, you can make it out of the house again. The computer is waiting for you.

Falling back through the screen you notice things have changed, You’re on the bridge of the Centurion now. Troy stands next to his sister desperately trying to break free from the chain that binds them left wrist to left wrist it’s blue on her end and red on his.

“I don’t want to do this Tyreen! You lied to me! You lied to me then held this” he thrusts the chain at her. “Over my head. What kind of loving sister does that. Oh you’ll die if you don’t come with me, what the actual fuck Ty?”

“I… I didn’t mean it to hurt you. You don’t understand now but you will Troy, you will. This is for both of us.” Tyreen begs as she talks the chain morphs into a two headed snake sinking its fangs into both of them but neither seem to notice this.

The stone stairway is missing every other step and you have to take care not to fall into the fog. It seems hostile like it knows it should be here. The other half of the  Vanagard temple is here but it’s a collapsed heap on stone and rubble, the fog covering most of what remains. The broken half of the Eridian rune that sat above the door flickers with red light every so often but it is swallowed by the fog. Take care as you leave, you wouldn’t want to fall.

The cathedral is a medieval castle, with everyone in time period appropriate clothing. Peasants begging for an audience with their king, the broken and forlorn being allowed in to speak with him. You note that half  the castle staff are all disabled in some way but this does not seem to hamper them, they are valued here. You walk into the king’s chamber Troy sitting on a regal throne, a gilded crown on his head and a matching golden prosthetic replacing his oversized one.

“I’ll send what help I can.” He tells the serfs before sending them away. Tyreen is seated next to him though she’s snoozing away letting her brother deal with the diplomacy.

“Troy!” A high pitched voice comes from the window and in flutters a pixie Sloane who lands on his shoulder. “You’ve been working so hard all day, you should come out to the garden and relax.” She says in a singsong voice poking him on the nose.

He laughs and agrees with her, shaking Tyreen awake and then all heading out to the garden.

You try and follow after but find yourself instead in a junkyard. Hundreds of broken toys and robots all piled up on each other.

“Broken.” The wind whispers. “You’re broken. You will never be anything but a broken little man.”

Troy sits in the middle of it all, but only the left side of him. The right is a void that he claws at desperately.  The void pulls in anything to close to it including you as you try and get away but it takes you anyway.

You find yourself back in the editing room but now Sloane is there, perched on his desk. Sunlight shines from behind her as she smiles and asks what he’s working on. He answers and she laughs at the light spreading across the room enveloping him. Flowers start blooming in the cracks in the tile.

You get the feeling everything will be ok in the end.

#borderlands 3 #Troy Calypso #Tyreen Calypso #Sloane the Siren #People Like Us #My Writing #My Hcs #The Queen of Thorns #My Art

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Piggy’s Had Too Much Wine

This fic is highkey a vent because my younger brother is an asshole who never stops calling me fat

DISCLAIMER: By writing this fic I am not saying that Katy Richardson is fat. She is not. And even if she was, she would still be drop dead gorgeous. This is a fictional story about the character she plays, not her.

Word count: 3159

TW: Body shaming, body image issues, self harm

--------------------

  “Damn, girl, you got enough in your face?”

Joan looked up from the forkful of food she had just put in her mouth and blinked at Anne smirking across the table at her. She chewed slowly, like a sheep deep in thought, then said after swallowing, “Huh?”

Anne nodded at her meal. “You got a lot to eat there.”

  “I know,” Joan said, shifting in her seat. “I’m hungry.”

  “That’s new,” Cathy observed. “Usually you don’t like eating during lunch breaks at work.”

  “Well, we’re not at work,” Joan said. “This is a restaurant.”

  “We know that,” Cleves said. 

  “And the food is good here.” Joan went on hastily. “I like it.”

  “Maybe a little too much,” Kitty said from behind her glass, earning her a sharp, but wounded look from Joan, which she countered with a petty sip of her drink.

  “I’m paying, anyway,” Joan continued. “Why does it matter what I get?”   “It doesn’t, honey,” Aragon settled her. “Don’t worry about it.”

Joan nodded and then took another bite of her meal. She couldn’t help but feel a little awkward as she did so, as if she were eating like a pig out of a slop trough, but tried to ignore it. It was fine. Everybody had to eat. There was nothing embarrassing about it.

  “So…” Anne started again. Aragon gave her a warning look, but she either ignored it or didn’t see it. “What made you want to come out with us? Usually you never go out.”

Joan shrugged. “I got lonely. And there isn’t anything good to eat at my apartment, so…” She shrugged again.

  “Ah, so that explains why you’re stuffing your face like there’s no tomorrow,” Kitty nodded wisely.

Joan ruffled, face inflaming with red. “I said I was hungry!” She yelped, her voice pitching slightly.

  “Don’t get mad,” Kitty held her hand sup. “I thought you were just trying to starve yourself or something.”

  “You do never eat,” Jane put in her two cents.

  “Well, I am now,” Joan grumbled.

  “Do you have a date?” Cleves asked. “Maybe you’re looking for someplace good to take them?”

Anne snorted. “If Joan had a date, then I hope they have a belly kink because she’s going to be packing after this.” She took a sip of her drink, then breezily added, “More so than she usually is.”

A few giggles swept through the tables, while others snapped their heads around to gauge Joan’s reaction. And she did not look happy about what had been said.

Joan’s fork was raised up for her to take another bite, but frozen in midair. Bright red consumed her face like the blooming of a rose in spring. She unconsciously wrapped her free arm around her stomach while slowly setting her fork down with the other. She sat hunched against the table for a moment, then was grabbing her purse and dumping money out on the table.

  “You can pay with this,” She mumbled.

  “Come on, Joan,” Anne said, rolling her eyes. “Don’t be such a baby. It was just a joke.”

But Joan doesn’t listen to her. She stood up and shoved her chair in roughly. Tears of humiliation could be seen shining in her eyes.

  “Oh my god,” Anne groaned. “Are you going to cry? Are you serious? You’re literally thinner than half of us here! What do you have to cry about? Or even be embarrassed about?”

Still, Joan doesn’t listen. She slung her purse of her shoulder and stormed out of the building, her arms wrapped firmly around her stomach the entire time.

------

When Joan got home, she shoved her fingers down her throat and cried. So much for a good meal. At least she got to pay for it.

------

That night, Joan stood in the shower with a box cutter poised over her exposed belly. She wondered what it would be like to find clarity in its blade. Cutting off pieces of herself would make her feel more whole. A heavy decision with a light outcome. It would just be like how they cut meat at slaughterhouses.

Make yourself an animal. Make yourself less human. It’ll make the process easier.

But the pain was bright and sharp and unbearable, even with the smallest of slices, and she threw the box cutter at the wall.

Joan sunk to the floor, sobbing, thin trails of blood running from her stomach. The water dissolved the red into unfolding petals of flowers across her pale skin before sliding into the drain.

What did she have to be embarrassed about?

She looked at herself in the mirror after getting out of the shower and asked herself this. What does she have that makes her so embarrassing? What does she have to hate?

She wasn’t overweight. She wasn’t obese. In most people’s terms, she was the normal example of thin. It was just her stomach, it wasn’t that bad, or that’s what they say.

  “You’re not even that big,” That’s because you haven’t seen her with her shirt off.

  “It’s just your stomach, it’s not even that bad,” But that’s what people see the most.

  “You aren’t fat so stop saying you are,” And she wished she could, but tell that to the insecurities rebounding inside of her head.

When she wears jeans, she has to pull the waistband up over her stomach or else she would be doing an impression of an English muffin for the entire day.

When she wears certain shirts, she has to suck in her stomach or else everyone will see the not-actual baby bump she’s sporting.

When people jokingly (or sometimes seriously) ask if she’s pregnant, she has to force herself to laugh along because if she shows that she’s offended they’ll pull out the “you’re not fat, you don’t know what it’s like, you have no right to be so whiny.”

When someone says they wished she had her body type, she has to act like it’s some worshiping compliment when really it just makes her feel guilty.

And she gets it, she does, she knows how hard it must be for actual overweight people, but goddamnit, when she heard someone point her body out so rudely, it was enough to destroy any confidence she had in herself.

She wanted to cut it all off. All of it. Until there’s nothing left but a gaping hole left in her abdomen from where her ugliness used to be.

If only.

------

Joan hadn’t expected not eating to be so goddamn hard. She only ate a few things a day, but having nothing at all was absolute torture. The fact that she couldn’t go twenty-four hours without food did not help her confidence in her weight or body, but it was also too much for her to handle. She /had/ to eat. She could find a different way to lose weight.

------

Exercise was a bust. Turns out she has really bad stamina. She threw up when she attempted to jog an entire trail. She walked the same trail the second time and still felt excruciating stitches in her side during the entire hike. And then she waterlogged herself and felt even sicker. AND THEN her legs were sore for days. She hated it.

------

When starving herself and jogging failed, Joan turned to the local gym. She bought herself a membership and went in with the most confidence she could muster. The first day, her foot slipped and she got her leg caught in the turning pedals of the bike machine. In her attempt to escape, she sprawled right out of the seat, screaming. She hasn’t gone back since.

------

Two weeks have passed since the incident at the restaurant. Joan was still thinking about it, no matter how hard she tried to distract herself. Anne’s words and the laughter that followed just kept rebounding through her skull.

Hunching over her work desk, Joan carefully felt her stomach. She hated how soft and pudgy it was, as if she were actually pregnant like how people liked to joke, but with a deflated baby. She poked the roll of fat and wrinkled her nose in disgust. Her nails curled into the skin as her anger mounted.

Why did she have to look like this? 

She had rewatched the recordings of the Sunday Sessions and noticed how much her stomach stuck out. Had she always looked that fat? Why didn’t anyone say something? Were they laughing at her while the Live went on? Were they looking? God, she even looks awful in her overalls. If she can’t wear her overalls anymore, then what’s the point of anything?

Joan whimpered. She scratched harder at her belly.

Cut it off. Cut it all off. Make herself good, whole, pretty. People will like her more. She’ll finally have friends. Yes. Yes. Good.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. Stinging pain streaked all across her poor tummy. Her fingernails were claws and she was marring herself.

Give them a reason to like her. Just don’t let them see what lies underneath. Just smile and be pretty and stay thin. Cut it off.

Joan wondered what would happen if she scratched too deep. What if her skin split open? She’s heard of evisceration that has happened like that, granted it usually wasn’t caused by excessive clawing because of body hatred. Would pulling out some of her organs make her thinner? Surely she didn’t need her large intestines /that/ much. It had it in its name- “large.” It’s too big. It takes up too much space in her. It’s definitely making her look so swollen and gross.

Pull it out

  “Joan?”

Joan’s hands froze. Her entire body froze. She swallowed thickly, shutting her eyes and cursing herself in her mind. Then, she’s wiping the tears from her face and turning to the queen in her doorway.

  “Yeah?” 

Jane peered at Joan curiously. Strangely, the usual annoyance in her gaze was missing. She even looked a little worried.

No, no-- Jane doesn’t care about her. Jane thought she was fat, just like everyone else.

  “Are you alright?” Jane asked.

  “What? Oh, yeah. I’m okay.” Joan said. She forced a light laugh. “I was watching some animal videos. You know The Dodo? God, those always make me cry! Don’t tell the director, please? I don’t want him to think I’m slacking.”

Jane looked at her computer screen, which definitely did not have an animal video on it, then nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

  “So, what did you need?” 

  “Oh, uh. Tim needs you. Something about lighting malfunction.” Jane said.

  “A music director’s work is never done,” Joan chuckled dryly. She got up and walked out into the hallway, Jane stepping back with her. When she closed the door, faint bloody smears were left on the knob.

She and Jane both noticed it, along with the blood on her fingertips, but neither said anything.

------

You lose weight when you’re stressed. You also gain weight when you’re stressed. The fact that Joan was worried that her costume was tighter than usual does not help the latter.

------

The costume was definitely tighter. Or maybe it was always this tight? NO, there’s no way… Well, whatever it is, it’s making the waistband cut uncomfortably into her belly when she sits down. But maybe it rupturing her organs from the tightness may not be so bad. The loss of mass inside of herself could help her lose weight.

------

Joan tried to not eat again. It’s working a little. She’s restraining herself well enough. But it’s awful, so awful. The hunger pains are the worst.

------

  “Joan?”

Joan turned to the doorway of her dressing room to see Aragon standing there. 

  “Yes?”

  “Are you almost done?” Aragon asked.

Joan furrowed her eyebrows at her paperwork. “No.”

  “Wonderful,” Aragon said. “Come on.”

Joan blinked. “What?”

  “Come on,” Aragon said again. “We’re going to my house for dinner.”

  “Wha-- But I said I had work?”

  “It doesn’t matter right now. Let’s go.”

Joan hesitated, then gathered her belongings and walked out with Aragon. If it weren’t for her undying loyalty to the queens and that she was kinda afraid of Aragon, she might have refused. Too late now, though.

  “What are we having?” Joan asked meekly on the drive to the queen’s house.

  “Lasagna,” Aragon answered. “And, no, before you ask, I’m not going to add every single existing spice into it.” She rolled her eyes. “Can you believe that Anne really thought that?”

That got a tiny giggle out of Joan. Aragon flashed her a quick smile, then focused on the road ahead of her.

  “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “I am a little,” Joan said, and that’s the moment her stomach decided to growl obviously loud. Her face flushed bright red and she wrapped her arms around her midsection as Aragon laughed.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” Aragon chuckled.

Joan remained flustered for the rest of the short car ride. And then she was just embarrassed when they pulled up to the queen’s house and realized she was going to have to eat in front of them again. She was already preparing herself for the humiliation.

Weirdly, though, the house was empty when they walked in.

  “Everyone is out eating,” Aragon said, catching Joan’s confused expression. “So it’ll just be us.”

  “Oh… I’m sorry you had to miss that.”

Aragon waved a dismissive hand. “Nonsense. It’s quite alright. Now come help me reheat this lasagna.”

Half an hour later, they were eating. Except Joan just stared at her plate, wringing her hands anxiously in her shirt. Her stomach was dying for the freshly made lasagna, but she really didn’t want to add the calories to her already thick body.

  “Joan? Aren’t you going to eat?” Aragon asked.

  “Oh, uhh-- I’m not that hungry, actually.” Joan said.

  “But I thought you were earlier?”

  “That was earlier.” 

And then Joan’s stomach growled. Redness enveloped her face as she hunched her shoulders in and looked at the floor. Aragon gave her a sympathetic smile.

  “Eat, honey. Please.”

So Joan does eat. She eats more than she actually wanted and after four plates she feels stuffed and sick- both physically and mentally.

  “You really were hungry, huh?” Aragon mused, picking up Joan’s plate. Joan whimpered below her. Instantly, her maternal instincts flared to life. “Joan?” She knelt beside the chair and set a hand on Joan’s back. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Joan sobbed. She looked up at Aragon and tears were rapidly streaming down her cheeks.

  “Oh, sweetheart… Come here.” Aragon pulled Joan into her arms and the girl slid off the chair to be enveloped in them. She noted that Joan didn’t hug back, rather kept her hands firmly gripping her stomach. Things were starting to fall into place. “Shh, shh… It’s alright, baby. It’s alright.”

  “No, no,” Joan shook her head. “No, it’s not. It’s not, Catalina, I--” She practically screamed. “I hate myself so much.”

  “Joan…” Aragon helped Joan up so she could sit on the couch. The girl instantly curled into her upon sitting down. “Joan, honey, why? What’s wrong?”

  “I-I--” Joan cut herself off with a tight whine.

  “Is this about what Anne said?” Aragon asked.

Joan nodded with a feeble whimper.

Aragon looked absolutely enraged. “Goddamnit, that bitch--” She hissed. She pulled Joan against her firmly. “I’m so sorry, baby girl. This has been eating you up, hasn’t it?”

Joan nodded again. “It’s--it’s all I’ve been thinking about. It’s been killing me, Catalina, it’s been killing me…” She sobbed into Aragon’s chest. “A-and I know it’s stupid because I’m not overweight, not really, so I don’t have the right to complain, b-but--”

  “Oh no. Don’t you dare.” Aragon pushed Joan back and cupped her tear-stained face, making the girl look her in the eye. “Don’t you dare say that, Joan. You have every right to feel the way you do. You can be upset if you want to, regardless of your body type. You can be tall or short, black or white, skinny or fat- it isn’t just overweight people who have body image issues. So don’t be guilty over that, honey.” She brushed some hair out of Joan’s face. “But just know that the things you are thinking are not true.”

Joan pulled away and shook her head. “They are.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach again.

  “They are not.” Aragon said. “Joan, you are not fat.”

  “Yes I am!” Joan cried. “Have you SEEN my stomach? I’m fat, Catalina! I’m fat and gross and--” She dissolved into tears again.

  “I have seen your stomach, Joan.” Aragon said gently. “Am I supposed to be disgusted by it?”

Joan nodded, not looking at Aragon.

  “Why?”

  “B-because,” Joan stammered. “It’s ugly…”

  “Honey, you are not ugly.” Aragon said. “You are anything but ugly. You are very, very beautiful.”

Joan answered with only a tiny, “mmmm.”

Aragon pulled Joan back into her arms. Joan curled into them, her head finding its spot on her chest.

  “I don’t care about what you look like, baby. You’ll always be beautiful in my eyes. Not ugly or fat.” Aragon said.

  “P-please don’t say I’m not fat,” Joan begged quietly. “I-I can’t-- I can’t believe you. Not right now. It’s too-- I--”

  “Shh,” Aragon pressed her head underneath her chin. “I understand, honey. But just know my opinion will never change about you. You will always be my perfect girl.”

Joan sniffled. “R-really?”

  “Really.” Aragon confirmed.

Joan was quiet for a moment, then nodded. She finally hugged Aragon back, practically burying herself against the queen.

  “I-I don’t know how long it’ll take,” Joan whispered. “For me to not see myself the way I do…”

  “That’s alright,” Aragon said. “I’ll be here helping you every step of the way.”

  “Thank you.” Joan nuzzled into Aragon’s warmth. She winced when her stomach cramped. “I think I ate too much…”

  “Oh, my poor baby,” Aragon cooed. She lowered one hand and rubbed comforting circles against Joan’s belly. “I used to do this with Elizabeth, you know. She was such a fussy girl.” She chuckled. “Don’t tell her I told you that.”

Joan giggled. “Your secret is safe with me.” She leaned her head against Aragon’s chest and relaxed into the feeling gliding across her full stomach. “I can see why she liked this, though.”

  “Oh yeah?” Aragon smiled at her. “I’ll have to see if she still does, then. Ha, she would be so red!”

Another giggle. “She’d kill you.”

  “I’d like to see her try.”

Joan smiled slightly. Her hatred for her own body was still clouding her mind, and she knew she was going to continue to have problems over it in the near future, but it suddenly felt like they would be easier to deal with. She had someone who loved her, who thought she was perfect and beautiful, regardless of what she or her stomach looked like. 

Well. At least there was one good thing about having a soft, chubby tummy. More room to get belly rubs.

#six the musical #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #joan on the keys #anne boleyn #catherine of aragon #jane seymour #katherine howard #catherine parr #anna of cleves #piggy's had too much wine #tw: body shaming #tw: body image #tw: self harm

[unwiltingblossom]

Queen's Favor (Mysme Jumin/MC AU 11/?)

Summary: Being a maid would be much easier if the cat would just let her do her job.

AU - Instead of joining the RFA via random text, MC is hired on as one of the maids assigned to Jumin Han’s penthouse. Nothing else about the setting has changed, the messenger and the RFA still exist, only the MC’s position has been altered.

Arguably, she was too distracted to do her job properly...but 'I'm too distracted thinking about the wallet I lost and then found again' wasn't really a valid excuse for leave no matter who she spoke to about it. Even she wouldn't approve of it.

"Ow-!" She hissed as she yanked her hand back and immediately stuck her finger into her mouth - as if she hadn't just stuck the handle of her duster there five minutes before and her mouth was a sanitary sanctuary untouched by bacteria.

Maybe it was her own fault for losing focus, but she still glared at the previously jammed vacuum anyway. The blood sacrifice of biting her finger had apparently sated it, and this time when she put it back together it started and spun its brushes freely. "I'm not resetting the calendar for you, we're not counting this one."

No one was in the room to hear her admonish the equipment, but that worked just fine for her: it meant no one was in the room to see the injury, so she could claim she slipped going up the stairs before she got into the penthouse at all. If anyone asked. Though the bigger concern was that she couldn't exactly bleed all over Elizabeth, and her boss didn't want her to handle the cat with latex on her hands. Technically that probably applied mostly to the dish gloves and other things she wore, not a simple band-aid, but there was always the chance that the cat was just so pampered it'd never encountered latex before and might even have an allergy. Or maybe Mr. Han did?

Well, the important thing was, she'd have to handle the cat with one hand today.

"Next time don't sit around fantasizing about pretty boys while you work, and you won't make it harder on yourself, now will you?" She scoffed at herself, shaking her head as she turned and made her way to her equipment back to dig out the necessary bandage.

Really, though. It wasn't the first time she'd messed up something that day, just the first time she'd injured herself. Arguably, she was too distracted to do her job properly...but 'I'm too distracted thinking about the wallet I lost and then found again' wasn't really a valid excuse for leave no matter who she spoke to about it. Even she wouldn't approve of it.

It's just...

Why had her wallet been in the middle of the floor? She never carried her purse over there, so how did it even get there? Between going to the convenience store for a late night snack a couple of nights before that and her near-death walletless encounter, how had it moved from the purse she kept by the door to the floor several feet away from it? It was even in the open, and sure she wasn't getting that great sleep but did she really miss it that many days without even looking at the floor? Was she becoming a slob in her own house as a consequence of being a hyper-vigilant maid elsewhere?

But she never took her wallet out of her purse in her home, and she always took her purse with her...

A rolling 'mrew' broke through her thoughts and she blinked, looking up at the still sealed bandage in her hand. "Ah-"

Elizabeth sat next to her, blinking up at her with those curious blue eyes. Rather ominously close to her cut hand. Before the cat could get any ideas - and she find a way to end up in the hospital for something even more embarrassing than last time - she quickly pulled her injured hand up out of reach of the cat. "Don't look at me like that. You know, I have fifteen more minutes of me time before it's your turn."

She blinked, and then gingerly reached out to pat the cat on the head with her uninjured hand before standing up. "Don't tell you father about what I just said." As far as she was concerned 'focus on work, not cat' counted as 'her time', but she doubted her employer would feel quite the same about her referring to her actual job as something like 'me time' - especially while she failed to actually do the job properly.

She managed not to drift off into pointless thoughts through the rest of the day, and therefore not injure herself further or mess up entertaining Elizabeth with just one hand. Still, she'd wasted some precious time early on and had to hustle to catch up to her schedule. Rather than have a decent chunk of time left before the owner of the penthouse got back, she was left with only a few minutes before her deadline when she was finally done. She'd blame it on the fact that it was Monday...but she knew full well Mina did the penthouse on Sunday. She had no one to blame the rough day on but herself and her own ridiculous imagination.

At the end of the day, there really wasn't any other answer to how her wallet got to the middle of the floor from her purse than that she somehow spilled it out of the purse at some point. Maybe when she was tired and frazzled on Saturday night after she'd walked all over creation chasing that one street jerk. It was possible, at least, and that was better than literally any other idea that came to her.

She flumped over onto the couch in the most dramatic way possible - knees on the rug, face and arm buried into the leather cushion. She could technically leave right now, but she didn't have to, and if she was going to catch her breath after a harrowing day of being her own worst enemy, it was much more comfortable to borrow the penthouse to do that than wait until she could lay on her own threadbare bed to do it.

A soft thump and shift of the cushion told her the cat followed her.

She peeked up from her arm to the cloud of white and two bright blue eyes looking down at her. Ordinarily, she'd use the hand her face wasn't pinning to the couch to pet the cat with, but that one happened to be the no-no latex one, so staring contest it was. "I know, he'll be here any minute, but I think we both can agree this isn't the weirdest position hes walked in on me in."

Elizabeth meowed directly in her face. It smelled of fish.

"Yes, well, you'll have to pet yourself with my hand, because I'm not getting up yet."

The cat flopped to the side, head on her wrist.

"That's just lazy."

Elizabeth huffed and twisted onto her back. And bapped a cat paw directly to her cheek. All pad and no claw, at least.

"That isn't a counter argu-"

The door choose precisely then to open. Which didn't mean Elizabeth won. They could continue the conversation next time. The cat rolled itself right off of the bed and sprinted over to the legs of the penthouse's owner, and she spared a glance over her shoulder up to meet his. She didn't know if she should feel ashamed over the complete lack of surprise or intrigue in his eyes, considering she hadn't moved at all from where she'd been.

One day she'd get him to look surprised at what he walked in on, and on that day she'd probably die from whatever it was she'd have gotten herself into.

She really was tempted to just put her face back into the couch and stay there for a while, but while her employer gave no sign of disapproval that she'd yet to leave - she was pretty sure they'd long ago crossed the line to where her being literally present in the penthouse at the same time as him wasn't really a concern - that wasn't exactly an open invitation for her to remain, either. She was the help, not a guest. Alas, she had to bid farewell to the comfortable sofa and rug, and go collect her things. She brushed off her pants - no matter how much effort she put in, there was always cat hair to be brushed off - and gave her employer a small nod as she strode across the room to get her bag of stuff.

"I'm already finished, so I'll be off."

"I won't be working tomorrow." His voice was smooth and matter of fact, but still somehow managed to startle her.

"Huh-? But my schedule said-"

He nodded, casually undoing the buttons of his overcoat, before reaching down to collect the cat in his arms. He didn't even bother to take the coat off before picking her up. The words his dry-cleaner must have had about him... "It is uninterrupted, yes." He tilted his head slightly, and the rare flicker of a smile passed over his lips. "I believe...I may be able to avoid getting in the way for one day, at least."

She wasn't even sure herself if her brief laugh was out of amusement or disbelief.

"I'll be sure to report any unruly disturbances to you immediately."

His eyes squinted, just slightly, in what she chose to assume was amusement, rather than disbelief. "Do so."

–

The springs of her bed - which doubled as her couch - squeaked in protest when she settled down on it, and...yes, it really wasn't anywhere near as comfortable as the one in the penthouse. Somehow, the apartment wasn't that big and yet the remote for the television was still out of reach from where she sat. Did she really toss it that far away last night, or had she turned into such a zombie in the mornings that she kicked it across the room just getting ready and hadn't noticed it?

Really, it wasn't that strange to work with the owner present. Many times that was just part of the job, actually. Only Jumin Han's own eccentricities made it feel like something strange to work in the house when he was present. Well, that, or she still nursed some suppressed trauma over the time she got a concussion. One of those, anyway. Though it did make her wonder if she'd walk in on him doing something strange for once this time.

Granted, if she did, she couldn't help but expect there'd be an immediate NDA or something slapped down right in front of her face immediately after. Somehow he'd still manage to be the one who came out on top, even if she walked in on him half dressed and covered in strange tattoos, hunched over a pile of burning books and eating half of a rabbit or something.

Wait, no...

That image was just terrifying.

The phone lit up as she shuddered.

She glanced down immediately, train of thought broken from the sudden burst of light in the darkness of her apartment. That actor, Zen, had sent her a friendly text the night before to test whether her number actually worked, so if he put in that much effort he probably hadn't done it just out of some kind of weird sense of politeness. Follow up texts were always possible.

-No, it was just some unknown number. Really, who gave her number away to some spam company? She just kept getting random phonecalls from weird numbers recently! And they were mostly late at night, too, so probably some foreign based companies.

I bet it was that glasses jerk...

She clicked her tongue and tossed the phone to the nightstand next to her bed, flopping back onto the mattress lengthwise. "I didn't almost die today." That was an improvement over the weekend. If she managed not to injure herself in front of her boss tomorrow, she might actually be set for a completely normal day - nay, perhaps a week even.

Her own laughter cut through the rare quiet of her room. "Thinking about attractive men at work and then about your employer at home, really? You really are a mess."

Ah, yes. Her thoughts were full of a random man who rescued her from death, a ridiculous self-created mystery about her own wallet, and about her work. And she talked to herself when she wasn't talking to a cat. Her social life was in shambles.

#mysme #mystic messenger #mysme fic #jumin x mc #elizabeth 3rd #mystic messenger fic #ooc

[nayutai]

Royally Fucked

↝ Summary Kim Seokjin is a royal asshole. Literally. As the only heir to the throne of Cirenth he’s used to getting what he wants when he wants it. The only obstacle in his way is you, his rigidly moral assistant. He outranks you on both the social and hybrid hierarchies yet a shiver of fear runs down his spine whenever your claws come out. One rude interruption too many is the straw that breaks the camel’s back and he decides he must rid himself of you once and for all.  

↝ Warnings Jin is a dumbass, oral sex, semi-public nudity, unprotected sex (use condoms kids), dry humping, crude/foul language

↝ Word Count 14.809

One day at a time.

Your daily mantra bounces around in your brain just like it does every other morning as you give yourself one final once over in the mirror before exiting your suite. Your shoulders are squared, head held high, and your trusty iPad is in hand as you move purposefully through the service wing of the palace. It’s just after seven in the morning and as personal assistant to the crowned prince of Cirenth Kim Seokjin, it’s time to get the royal jackass started on his day.

A deep breath in and released through your mouth to steel your nerves in preparation to deal with the nuisance that is Seokjin is the last thing you do before flinging open the heavy oak door. You’re so used to him being a comatose lump in bed at this hour that the light choking noises don’t even register in your brain until you’re face with the sight of Seokjin vigorously face fucking one of the palace maids. A headache springs up behind your left eye. This is why you’re the highest paid service person in the whole palace after the head chef. Dealing with Prince Seokjin is an absolute nightmare. You wish that you could say this is the first time you’ve walked in on him performing some lewd act with one of his numerous partners but sadly it is not. However, this is the first time you’ve caught him with another member of the palace staff.

“Can you hurry it up, your highness?” You sigh with a quick glance at the apple watch strapped to your wrist. “We have a busy schedule today and we need to get going.”

Seokjin and his flavor of the morning are so shameless that they don’t even stop what they’re doing. If anything, he speeds up his thrusts into the willing mouth his erection is stuffed in. You make it a point to focus on the wall above his head to keep your eyes from wandering lower. It’s easier said than done. Seokjin might be an irritating bastard but even you must admit that he’s sinfully attractive. That primal attraction is shattered when he opens his mouth.

“Why don’t you get down here and join her? I bet I’d be coming in seconds.” He suggests much to your chagrin.

“I’d rather claw out my own intestines and eat them.” You reply quickly. Your nose wrinkling in distaste. He might be the hottest piece of ass you’ve laid eyes on but you have standards.

“Oh, come on, Kitty. A threesome might actually loosen you up some.” You can feel your claws lengthening with the urge to tear him apart at his little nickname for you but Kim Seokjin outranks you in more than just social hierarchy. As a black panther hybrid, you are far outmatched when it comes to the dragon still shallowly face fucking his human conquest.

“Camille would love some help. Wouldn’t you, pet?” He coos out. The petite maid at his feet nods as best she can in her current position. Your nose wrinkles at the way the smell of her arousal kicks up a notch.

“The only thing I’m helping Camille do is file an unemployment claim as her services will no longer be needed in the palace.” Your face is carefully devoid of emotion as that sentence makes Camille tear herself away from Seokjin.

The spot above Seokjin’s head you’ve been staring take a backseat to his saliva-covered erection bobbing in the air. Camille swats at his hands as she grovels at your feet for her job. There is not an ounce of sympathy in your heart for the young maid. Every palace employee is told upon hiring that sexual relations with members of the royal family are strictly forbidden. Few rules in this palace result in immediate termination and this one is right at the top of the list. As a recent hire, Camille shouldn’t have had time to forget that particular fact.

With a resigned sigh, you turn to open the ornate door of Seokjin’s room. Camille knows what that means. She finally drags herself off her knees to run out of the door. The heavy wood door slams shut behind her.

Most hybrids have a keen sense of smell no matter what form they’re in but dragons are a strange exception to that trend and right now you’ve never been more thankful for it. The more primal side of you is practically salivating at the sight of the sizeable appendage jutting from Seokjin’s body. You grimace internally at the gush of wetness that soaks your panties.

“Goddammit you couldn’t wait five more minutes?” Seokjin questions indignantly. He’s always been a physically expressive speaker for as long as you’ve known him. You hate it, especially now that all of his gesturing is making his softening erection wave around wildly. “Now I have to walk around with blue balls all day.”

You huff in response as you herd him towards his bathroom. “Don’t care. Now go take a shower. You’re meeting with a lot of important people today and I can’t have you smelling freshly fucked in front of foreign dignitaries.”

He mumbles something under his breath about not smelling freshly fucked if he didn’t actually get to fuck but for once you choose to not respond to him. While he’s showering, you raid his closet to find him a suit to wear for the day. You fan yourself with the sleeve of a heather gray suit that probably costs more than your healthy monthly salary. Your body temperature is already a few degrees higher than a human’s but now your body feels like a walking furnace.

The sound of the shower turning off spurs you in action. You quickly grab the gray suit you’ve been using as a makeshift fan along with a pale blue shirt and a tie to match. The clothing is carefully laid out on the bed before you disappear back into the closet for accessories. Seokjin emerges from the bathroom in a very revealing pair of black boxer briefs furiously towel drying his hair. You tell him to make it quick before disappearing out in the hallway to wait for him.

“Was firing Camille really necessary?” Seokjin asks, interrupting the peaceful quiet in the SUV. You don’t even glance up from your iPad as you continue to answer one email after another.

“Yes, sexual relations with a member of the royal family are a direct violation of the palace employment contract and results in immediate dismissal.” Had you been looking at him you would have seen the way his lips pouted. A sign that the young prince is deep in thought.

Seokjin is a vengeful man. It’s a fact of his life that he knows has gotten him into trouble more often than not. Despite how much he likes to push your buttons, he’s always made sure to never go too far or risk the harsh bite of your wrath. He might be the bigger, badder hybrid between the two of you but truth be told you scare him quite a bit. He can’t let his fear get in the way of his revenge though. You have singlehandedly cut off his access to the best pussy he’s ever encountered in the palace and that will never do. There’s a week-long summit coming up in a few days in one of the neighboring kingdoms. He decides then that he will commence his plan for revenge.

Operation: Bye Bye Kitty will soon be underway.

“Good morning, Kitty. Did you sleep well?” Jin chirps. Your icy glare doesn’t dim his megawatt smile in the slightest. The way your eyes flash that familiar gold does give him pause though as you seem to struggle to hold your tongue.

Seokjin takes a small step back when you close your eyes for a few seconds. The iPad that never seems to leave your hands is currently clutched to your chest in a death grip. Maybe kicking off his plan at five in the morning as the two of you are preparing to leave for eight o’clock flight wasn’t his best decision. In the three or so years he’s known you, you’ve never been a morning person.

“Don’t speak to me again until we land in Aurlena.” You mutter when you seem to have better control of yourself.

“But that’ll be like eight hours from now.” He protests loudly. The flight to the distant kingdom is already going to be hell as it is but not having anyone to talk to is only going to make it worse. You shut him up with one single glare that promises an untold amount of pain if he doesn’t zip it immediately.

The more animalistic side of him cringes at the way he backs down without another word but the human side of him knows he made the right decision. You’d rip him to shreds faster than he could blink if given the smallest bit of provocation and he knows it. It’s with a shudder that he notices your fingers have actually sharpened into claws. He knows you’re not usually a morning person but you’re extra irritable today. That doesn’t bode well for his plan at all.

The second the doors of the private jet open, you and Seokjin are whisked to the palace of the fairy queen who rules over the kingdom of Aurlena. A spritely host leads the two of you to the main dining hall where an extravagant brunch is being served. Summit participants are spread around at various tables talking amongst themselves over various brunch dishes.

Seokjin purposefully selects an empty table away from the crowd next to a window when the host asks if he has a preference. The view of the royal garden stretching out before them in various hues is breathtaking in its beauty. Rays of light stream through the glass and hit your profile at an angle that leaves the problematic prince speechless for a second as second thoughts run through his head. Maybe he shouldn’t do this. One snappy command to stop slouching from your pursed lips crushes that doubt to dust.

“So, what brought you to the palace?” Seokjin questions as he carefully covers his lap in one of the pristine linen napkins. You snort in response to him just as he’d expected.

“That’s a stupid question. I’m here for the same reason you are, idiot.” He has to stop himself from insulting you in turn. He can’t afford to let a single negative word pass his lips if he wants this plan to work.

“I know that but how did you end up working at the palace? Your file says you were an art student but you dropped out.” You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. He’s up to something. You’re sure of it.

“Why were you reading my file?”

“Well you said I wasn’t allowed to speak on the plane so I did some reading.”

“Most people read novels not personnel files, Seokjin so cut the bullshit.” The grip you have on your fork that’s hovering above the plate of food you’ve just been served looks punishing but he powers through. He opens his mouth to point out the fact that as a crowned prince he’s most definitely not most people but he thinks better of it.

“Is it really so bad that I want to get to know you? You pick out my underwear for Christ’s sake.” He points out. You’re a woman who can appreciate an honest pursuit of knowledge and facts. Seokjin may not be all that honest about why he wants said knowledge but you don’t need to know that. You arch a brow at him as you consider his statement and for a second he’s sure that you’re going to tell him to piss off.

“My dad had a series of small strokes my senior year of college. My mom had been a housewife since I was born and they couldn’t afford to keep paying for art school so I dropped out. I knew someone who knew someone else and managed to get this job.” Seokjin is a bit taken aback. He was expecting something a bit more frivolous and a lot less traumatic. Then again, you didn’t strike him as a person that did anything frivolous.

“You’ve worked with me for what three years now? Why didn’t you ever mention this? How’s your father doing now?” He questions with rapid fire.

“I didn’t tell you because my personal life is none of your business but my dad is doing much better now. He’ll probably never be 100% but he’s still here.” A small smile graces your features as you duck your head shyly. It’s clear how much you love your father.

A strange flutter takes root in his gut at such an unfamiliar action from you. Looks like family is a soft spot for you. Maybe something happened and that’s the reason for your increased irritability this morning. Seokjin ponders that possibility for the rest of the day as he mindlessly moves through the different speakers and panel discussions for that day.

Seokjin lays in bed later that night mindlessly watching an episode of Bob’s Burgers when his mind drifts back over the events of the day. You’d been incredibly on edge this morning. So much so, that he’d toyed with the idea of postponing his evil scheme to keep from being slaughtered. He praises his own genius when he recalls a certain fact from the exhaustive personnel file he’d read on the plane. Seriously, why are they so in-depth? Why would anyone need to know your precise measurements and what color you prefer the most? He quickly reigns himself back in and grabs the phone from its cradle on the nightstand.

It rings once before someone picks up. The hotel staff member is initially hesitant to fulfill his request until Seokjin gives his room number. All hesitancy goes out the window once that tidbit of information is on the table. Whoever is on the other line must have seen exactly who’s occupying the room. He hangs up after assuring that his wishes will be granted expeditiously. Now all he has to do is wait.

You’re making last minute preparations for day two of the summit when a knock sounds through your suite. No one should be knocking on your door at this time of night unless it’s an emergency. You’re immediately thrown into crisis mode, crossing the room in four large steps. When you see the person standing on the other side of the door you wish you’d thought to grab your robe. You feel incredibly exposed in your worn, oversized t-shirt that bares the symbol of your former university and a tiny pair of shorts.

“I must say I rather like this look on you.” Seokjin says with a smirk as he squeezes by you to step into your room. He looks around observantly though there’s really no point to it. Your hotel rooms are mirror images of each other so there’s nothing he hasn’t seen before.

“It’s almost one in the morning. What do you want?”

“Oh, I brought you this.” Your senses finally seem to get over the initial shock of being disturbed at this hour as he holds out a white box that you hadn’t even noticed before. The enticing smell of chocolate and hazelnut caresses your nose. As if it’ll disappear, you slowly take the proffered container before taking a seat on the edge of your bed while Seokjin cautiously does the same.

“You seemed like you were having a rough morning so I called the kitchen to have them make this for you. I know it’s your favorite.” He speaks up at your startled gasp when you open the lid to reveal a chocolate hazelnut cheesecake. Your favorite dessert.

Seokjin actually looks shy for the first time in all the years you’ve known him. One large hand rubs nervously at the back of his neck as he awaits your reaction. The tips of his ears could be confused for tomatoes with how red they are.

“I know that wasn’t in my HR file so how did you know it’s my favorite?” You question curiously around a bite of the decadent dessert. You hadn’t even bothered to cut a proper slice, opting to just dig in instead. If it weren’t for your impeccable self-control you would’ve moaned at loud and made a fool of yourself. Seokjin grabs an extra fork at your insistence and digs in right alongside you.

“You’re right it’s not, but it did say that your favorite candy is chocolate plus I noticed that the chef makes you one of these for your birthday every year.”

“How did you know that?”

“People sometimes forget that the palace is still just a really big house. I know everything that goes on in my home.”

You nod in concession to his point as you set your fork aside. It is well within your abilities to eat the whole cheesecake in one sitting. A perk of your ramped-up hybrid metabolism. However, you know that doing so will mean a sleepless night and a day of chugging coffee so as not to fall asleep.

“So,” Seokjin starts sheepishly, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

You glance at him in your peripheral vision. Even fix your mouth to deny his invitation to vent. Your eyes wander to the half a cheesecake that you’d set on the nightstand and decide, what the hell? He did go to the trouble of securing your favorite dessert just because he’d realized you were upset this morning. With a heavy sigh, you scoot back so you’re leaned against the headboard.

Your bare legs are stretched out in front of you while Seokjin chooses to stretch his lanky frame across the foot of the bed, propping his head up on his hand. To an outsider, the two of you probably look like half of the Golden Girls cast spilling tea and discussing feelings over cheesecake.

“This stays between us, right?” You ask apprehensively.

“Of course, it does. Boy scout’s honor.” Seokjin beams as he holds up three fingers in salute.

“First of all, that’s the girl scout’s hand sign. Second of all, you were never a boy scout, Seokjin, so what type of honor do you even have?” You hold your hand over your mouth in an attempt to stifle the laughter doing its best to escape.

He waves you off with a playful scoff. It feels weird. You’re about to spill your guts to the man that’s been nothing but a whiny pain in your ass for the better part of three years. This is definitely crossing a line, right? And yet you find yourself pushing that strange feeling to the side. He listens intently as you tell him about the phone call you received from your mother the night before the two of you left for Aurlena.

Simply put, your parents are on the verge of eviction. Well, they were until you’d emptied out your healthy savings account to get them current on their mortgage and keep them off the streets. That was only a temporary fix though. They still owe nearly $10,000 on their mortgage. A mortgage that they can no longer afford to keep up with though they’d never divulged that minor detail to you. Your parents are proud people. They hadn’t wanted you to drop out of school to help them, even promised to do whatever necessary to find the money to fund your last year but you couldn’t do that. Not when creditors were calling them so often that they pulled the plug for the phone out of the wall completely.

You’d taken over the medical bills when you got the job at the palace. It took over a year but you finally got them all caught up but with your dad still needing extensive medical care there would always be more. You’d tried to help your parents with their various other expenses but they assured you that everything was fine now that you’d taken away the burden that was the mountain of medical bills that had piled up at their feet. Apparently, that hadn’t been the truth. Despite your mother getting a part-time job to make some money while also taking care of your father on the days his nurse wasn’t there and his sizeable pension, it wasn’t enough to cover everything.

Seokjin’s face displays a myriad of emotions as you continue your tale. You hadn’t intended to talk this much but it’s not like you really have anyone to talk to. All of your friends from college have moved on with their lives doing god knows what so once you got started you can’t stop. The words just keep flowing and Seokjin just keeps listening.

Surprisingly, the conversation keeps flowing. The more you talk to him, the more you realize that maybe he’s not quite as much of a dickhead as you always thought. Who are you kidding? He’s definitely still a dickhead, but in a more endearing way. In other words, he’s an enigma. A glance at the digital clock nearly makes your eyes bulge out of your head. There’s no way the two of you have stayed up till nearly two in the morning just talking. You hustle him towards the door with strict instructions to go straight to bed with no pit stops and no mindless social media scrolling.

Seokjin goes willingly, giggling at your urgency the whole way. He promises not to make any “pit stops” as you so eloquently put it but both of you know he’s not going to listen.

The second he’s back in his room, he’s digging his laptop out of his suitcase. He opens a fresh word document and brands it with the title of his brilliant plan. His fingers dance across the keyboard as he documents the events of the day. He types a few notes. Makes a few observations. The key to a successful outcome will be keeping track of what works and what doesn’t. A lingering sense of guilt creeps up on him but he shakes it off, typing a final note to pen a glowing recommendation letter for your future employment endeavors. He might be about to get you fired but he’s not so much of an asshole to leave you at the mercy of the world with no job, especially after everything you’d told him tonight.

*   *   *

The next morning finds you wide awake and fidgety. You’d chased sleep for hours but your brain refused to power down. Your conversation with Seokjin kept replaying over and over in your head. What would be the consequences of telling him such intimate details of your life like that? You weren’t foolish enough to believe that there wouldn’t be any. Seokjin did nothing that didn’t benefit him in some way so he has to have some ulterior motive for suddenly being so nice and attentive.

Your fists are clenched tightly in the expensive sheets of your bed. Last night was a mistake. You’ve always prided yourself on being a logical person and yet, there was nothing logical about telling your boss all about your present hardships. The thought of what this could mean for your future made you queasy. After giving up on sleep, you’d spent the last few hours before your alarm goes off making sure that your resume is absolutely flawless. If you’re going to be unemployed, you need to make sure that you far outshine your competition in the job market. You can’t afford to go without a job considering that your savings account currently has nothing but the mandatory $20 that the bank requires for the account to remain open. Your checking account is nearly just as empty. You’d had to hit it up too and pay day is still a little over a week away.

It nearly takes an act of God for you to raise your fist to knock on Seokjin’s room door. He answers with a blinding smile that calms you for some strange reason. He’s dressed in the sleek navy blue you’d selected for the day. You can’t help but admire the way the tailor-made jacket highlights his broad shoulders with perfection.

“You ready?” Seokjin asks interrupting a bout of silence that you hadn’t even realized had stretched between the two of you.

“Oh…yes after you.” You step aside and dutifully follow him towards the elevator. A yawn slips out despite your best efforts to hold it in. If you make it through this day, it’ll be a miracle.

Your phone rings with a call from your mother as the elevator descends smoothly to the first floor. You ignore it the first time but the second? The second one you answer. She never calls twice in a row like this unless a crisis is underway.

“Mom? What’s wrong?” You ask, concern heavily laced through your words. Your worry only intensifies as you pick up on small sniffs and hiccups coming from the other end of the line.

She tearfully retells the reason for her emotional phone call. A phone call from the bank holding your parents’ mortgage. According to the bank representative, their mortgage is now all paid up and they should be expecting a certified packaged with the deed to the house in a few business days.

The elevator is cruising past the fifteenth floor while your jaw has already reach the lobby. This can’t be real life. The bank must have made some cruel accounting error. Your mind is already whirling with the different phone calls you’re going to have to make to get to the bottom of this as your mom continues to sob her thanks. It takes several attempts but you finally get her off the phone. Now the real work of solving this dilemma while also fulfilling your work obligations can begin.

“You’re welcome.” You jump as Seokjin speaks out of nowhere. Oftentimes you forget that while his senses aren’t as strong in human form as yours are, he can still hear better than the average human. But that would mean…

“You didn’t.” You accuse with narrowed eyes. The fool next to you apparently has more money than sense if he truly did what he’s claiming.

“Oh, but I did.”

“Well undo it. I don’t have that kind of money. I can’t pay you back.” The elevator dings as the door slide open in the opulent hotel lobby. Seokjin faces straight ahead, striding confidently towards the SUV waiting to deliver the two of you to the palace for another day of panel discussions and seminars.

He faces you for the first time as he waits for the driver to open the car door. “I don’t recall asking to be repaid, Kitty.” The look in his eyes nearly takes your breath away. No one has ever looked at you with this much…sincerity? You can’t really put your finger on exactly what it is you see in his eyes but it makes your gut twist up in knots.

“I can’t-” Your words are cut off by a yawn that refuses to be suppressed. You soon realize that it doesn’t matter anyway because Seokjin has absolutely no plans to listen to your protests.

The man next to you hums in approval when one of the security guards up front lowers the security screen and passes two cups of coffee to Seokjin. Your eyes widen for the hundredth time since you walked out of your hotel room when he hands one of the piping hot cups to you. He winks at you annoyingly before taking a sip of the scalding liquid. It always irks you when he flexes on you like that. Stupid dragons and their stupid immunity to extreme heat. You, on the other hand, have to wait for the coffee to cool off before you can drink it.

“Thank you.” You whisper into your coffee.

“Anything for you, Kitty.”

Surprisingly, the rest of the seminar passes in much of the same fashion. Seokjin continues to do little things here and there to get on your good side. He even shows up for more late night conversations a few times. Each time feels like an episode of The Golden Girls as the two of you laugh and talk about life over hulking slices of cheesecake. You’re still not entirely sure of his motive but it’s not like you’re in the position to turn down his olive branch of friendship. Being his assistant hasn’t left you much time for a social life. You’re so far removed from your old friend groups that you’re not even sure they still consider you their friend at this point.

You’d thought that things would go back to normal when your plane touched down in Verus but Seokjin is only too happy to prove you wrong. He greets you like an old friend during his routine wakeup call the next morning. Warm embrace and all. You stand stiff-armed and in shock until he physically places your arms around his neck. Your mind is frantic as you try to figure out how to respond. Part of you wants to melt into his arms but that’s dangerous territory. That type of thinking could lead to feelings that you can’t afford to feel. A protest is on the tip of your tongue but Seokjin releases you before you can voice it. A genuine smile lights up his face as he takes a step back from you.

“A hug a day keeps the wrinkles away,” He announces as he smooths out your furrowed brow. You weren’t even aware that you were frowning. “and you’re much too pretty for wrinkles so I expect a hug every morning. It’s my royal degree.”

In true Seokjin fashion, he doesn’t give you a chance to argue with him. He simply disappears into the bathroom and hops in the shower. Still in a daze, you set about picking out his suit for the day. You’re going through his accessories looking for a particular set of cufflinks when Seokjin’s voice suddenly sounds from behind you. He’s entirely too close to you if the closeness of his voice is anything to go by. You hadn’t even registered the sound of the shower turning off nor the bathroom door opening. When you turn around to chastise him for scaring you, you fervently wish for a sink hole to open up beneath your feet and send you plummeting towards the Earth’s core.

Seokjin stands before you in all of his freshly showered glory. Hair dripping, skin flushed and damp, and a towel slung dangerously low around his waist. Saliva pools in your mouth at the devastating sight of him. You nearly say fuck the consequences and launch yourself at him but your last ounce of resolve keeps your muscles locked in place.

“Sorry. Forgot my underwear.” The cocky devil in front you reaches for a shelf down by your hip to grab a pair of the overpriced Balenciaga boxer briefs that he’s partial to. He normally keeps a stock of underwear in his bathroom so that he can just get dressed when he comes out but it would appear that isn’t the case for today.

“I’m going to kill him.” You announce to the row of suit jackets by your head. Fists clenched at your sides as you fight for control. Your more primitive side is fighting to get out and answer the sexual challenge that Seokjin has laid before you but the human in you would rather die than give into your animalistic urges and risk everything you’ve worked for. Rational thought must take precedent here.

Jin’s flirtatious demeanor continues throughout the day in the form of random compliments and acts of kindness. A large part of the day is taken up by a mandatory appearance at an outdoor festival with his parents. The sun is shining brightly and Seokjin takes every chance he gets to tell you how you look like a “sun-kissed goddess”. You have an overwhelming urge to smack him every time he opens his mouth to say it. A waitress accidentally spills a drink down your back and he doesn’t hesitate a single second before he’s taking off his blazer to wrap it around your shoulders. A blazer that you know for a fact costs more than your entire monthly salary.

You’re not sure why he’s being so different but you can’t find it within yourself to complain either. Jin, as he now insists that you call him, is a lot more receptive to your instructions which in turn makes your job less of a headache. The constant compliments don’t hurt either. However, it’s when you start to look forward to them every day that you realize that maybe you’re not as immune to him as you’d once thought. Jin picks up on the subtle shift in your attitude as well. You smile more now and it makes his heart do jumping jacks every time. These days his plan of action has taken a back seat and every word out of his mouth is now a genuine effort to get you to bless him with even the smallest of grins.

You can feel Jin’s eyes on you as your fingers fly across the screen of your tablet. He’s inches away from you in the back seat of the SUV currently returning both of you to the palace after a long day of public appearances. Part of you yearns to know what’s going on in that head of his but you don’t want to push him. This…thing between the two of you is strange to say the least. You’ve long accepted that you have less than platonic feelings for him but that pesky employment clause in a mountain in your path. Besides, there’s no way that Jin feels the same way about you. He’s always had a thing for those traditionally beautiful girls that seem to draw people into them with their mere presence. You wish you could say that was you but you know it’s not

“I like you.” Jin interrupts your self-deprecating thoughts as if you had spoken them out loud. Your eyes fly to his, wide open. The shocked expression is identical to the one you’re sure that paints your own face as if that little sentence wasn’t meant to be said aloud.

“What did you just say?” You ask strictly for clarification purposes because there’s no way in hell he just said that.

He takes a deep breath, scooting closer to you. “I like you.”

Your heart leaps into your throat as he repeats himself in a soft voice that is just so unlike the loud, animated man you’re used to. He’s practically folded in on himself as if he’s preparing himself for rejection. You realize then that you weren’t the only one harboring feelings that you thought could never be reciprocated.

His words embolden you to finally act on your own repressed feelings. You completely close the little remaining distance between the two of you, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “I like you too.”

His lanky frame tenses up as he searches your face for any hint of a lie. He’s visibly relieved when he doesn’t find it. Smoke billows out of his nostrils and a shiver of fear runs the length of your spine. You’ve never personally seen a dragon hybrid shift but in all of the movies they always blow smoke out of their noses like this right before they transform into their more powerful form. You’d like to not be intimately pressed against Jin in the back of an SUV if he’s about to turn into a twenty-foot beast.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to shift.” Jin assures you and at this point you’re convinced that he’s reading your mind. “Dragon hybrids do this whenever we feel extreme emotion.”

You nod in understanding but you move over a few inches just in case while he cracks his window to air the car out. A small squeal totally unbefitting the unflappable persona that you’ve carefully crafted escapes you when Jin suddenly unhooks your seatbelt and lifts you into his lap. He tugs your iPad away from you with a sudden show of strength, carelessly tossing it to the floorboards on what was your side of the car.

When he runs his nose along the column of your neck, your breath seizes up in your chest. You want this. God, you really, really want this but you know that it’s against the rules. Losing this cushy position would be devastating in more ways than one. It’s with a heavy heart that you not so effortlessly extricate yourself from Jin’s grasp to slide off his lap.

Your apparent rejection stings if his hurt facial expression is anything to go by. As you reach down for your iPad, you purposefully avoid his prying gaze. You know that if you look into his eyes you’ll break. Jin has other plans as he gently cups your jaw, turning you to face him. The warm chocolate of his eyes somehow calms you while also kicking your pulse into overdrive. You’ve never met a man who had such a dizzying effect on you before.

“Let me in, Kitty.” You’re not sure when his face had gotten so close to yours but his full lips just barely graze yours with every word. A frustrated growl rumbles in your chest as you lurch forward before jerking yourself back. You shouldn’t be doing this.

“Please, I can’t go on without knowing what kissing you is like. Even if it’s only once.” His voice is gruff. Hands gripping your waist as if you’re the one thing keeping him grounded.

Fuck it.

Smoke clouds around the two of you once more as your lips dance the timeless waltz of lovers. His tongue slips into your mouth with ease. His lips are gentle yet insistent as they move against yours. In that moment, you know that this is what it’s like to fly.

Seokjin curses as he powers through one last set of bicep curls. The heavy barbell in his hand drops to the floor with a loud bang that seems to echo around the room. His eyes burn from the sweat that’s pouring off of him but he doesn’t even bother to wipe his face. Instead, he opts to just push his hair away from his forehead and keep it moving.

He would normally take this cool off period to admire his progress in the mirrors that line one wall but he can’t even bring himself to look at his own reflection right now. He turns one of the treadmills so that it’s facing a non-reflective surface and hops on, cranking it up as fast as he can handle. His chest feels tight thought it’s not from a lack of air but rather it’s the heavy weight of guilt constricting his lungs.

Kissing you hadn’t been on his list of things to do today. Neither was spilling his guts in your lap about his feelings either. The words had burst forth before he could even think about stopping them. Seokjin couldn’t help the small smile that curved the corners of his lips at the memory of you confessing that you felt the same way.

His smile becomes a frown when that gnawing sense of guilt eats at him again. He’d documented the kiss in his log out of habit. It had just become routine for him to write down every little interaction that could be deemed less than appropriate. He pushes himself faster on the treadmill. His heart yearns for you to be his without the cloud of his false pretenses looming over him. Seokjin had originally thought that kissing you would be torture because he’d never be able to get enough and he was right. What he didn’t anticipate is that he’d feel this bad about it.

His mind wanders back to that incriminating document on his laptop. He doesn’t really know why he still has it or why he still updates it. Seokjin gave up on his plan to get Kitty fired a while ago but this weird relationship that’s not quite a relationship could end tomorrow if you wanted it to and he’d rather not rely on his own memories to remember you. The mere thought of you finding out his secret makes him physically ill. He lurches from the treadmill, collapsing into a heap on the floor. He’s fucked and royally so. Pun intended.

The days seem to blur together as time goes by. As he’d expected, Seokjin finds it damn near impossible to keep his hands and lips to himself. You’ve given up on wearing lipstick at this point. It’s practically become routine for him to lift you into his lap and attach his lips to yours the second the door of the SUV is shut behind him.

Today is no different. The driver hasn’t even made it back into his seat yet and Jin’s hands are already on you. Normally, you’re just sat across both of his legs but apparently, that’s not doing it for him anymore. He positions your knees on either side of his body as he does his absolute best to ruin you. Your pencil skirt is bunched up around the tops of your thighs just barely covering your lower half.

The shock wears off in the time it takes for the driver to put the car in drive. Your fingers are buried in his hair, tugging at the soft strands when he forces your hips to rock against his own. The bulge in his slacks brushes perfectly against your clit on every roll of your hips against his lap. He swallows your moans greedily, refusing to detach your lips from his. The car hits a bump in the road that causes the two of you to bounce a bit and results in your hips coming down with enough force to have you biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. Jin is unfazed. Instead, he thrusts his upwards in time with the continuous rocking motion of your hips. The rising pressure in your nether regions indicating that you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm snaps you out of the sexual haze he’s dragged you into.

“Stop.”

Though it’s the last thing he wants to do, Seokjin ceases all movement at your whispered command. You escape from his lap and put as much distance as you possibly can between you and the virile man next to you. Your fingers shakily redo the buttons on your blouse. You don’t even know when they’d come undone in the first place. The iPad that’s normally glued to your hand is nowhere to be found. After a few minutes of desperate searching, you find it has slid under your seat and into the trunk area of the SUV. Jin lets out a pained groan at the sight of your perky ass in the air when you lean over the back of the seat to reach your device.

You’re all business when you return to a seated position. If it weren’t for the fact that there’s a few strands of hair that’s been tugged out of your bun there’d be no way to tell you’d just been engaged in a heated make out session in the backseat of a car. A few coughs to clear your throat has you back to normal so you launch into a breakdown of an upcoming conference that the two of you will be attending in a few short days. Jin had forgotten all about the small healthcare summit. He hates that he has to attend these things but if it means getting uninterrupted he’ll gladly suffer through whatever hell is in store for them.

Seokjin has his ear pressed against the door connecting your room to his listening to you move around as you get ready for bed. He’d been ecstatic when you’d arrived at the hotel to find that the hotel had messed up the room reservation in such a manner. It felt like the universe was rewarding him for some good deed. He feels like such a creep right now though as he practically strains his ears to pick up on every little sound you make. His normal confident demeanor has deserted him just as it has the two previous nights. This is his last chance to finally buck up and make his move. With one final mental shove, he raises his fist to gently knock on the door.

His lungs practically collapse when you open the door. There’s no sight that he loves more than you in your after hours state clad in the baggy sweatshirts and tiny shorts combo he’s learned that you favor. Your hair released from the strict bun you wear daily per palace guidelines. Face free of makeup and exposing the small beauty mark on your top lip. Nothing could make it better except for maybe the smile currently stretching across your face.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to finally knock. I guess third time really is the charm, huh?” Shit how did you know that he’s been wussing out like some kind of coward every night? Must be a panther thing. At least he hopes it’s a panther thing because it would be really creepy otherwise.

“I-uh” Jin finds himself suddenly at a loss for words. He’d planned out exactly how he’d wanted this to go but now that you’re in front of him he’s at a loss.

“Relax, babe. I only bite on request.” Jin feels himself melt at the way your tongue teasingly pokes out between your teeth. He doesn’t protest being dragged into your room, shutting the door behind him.

“So, what’s up? It’s getting late and we have to be up early tomorrow.” You continue moving around the room laying out your clothes for tomorrow and going over tomorrow’s itinerary one final time.

“That’s actually what I wanted to ask you about.” Jin trails off as he tries to carefully choose his words in his head before saying them. You arch an eyebrow in question when you face him, taking in the way he’s nervously rubbing at the back of his neck. Your heart softens at the sight.

Jin’s eyes are trained on his feet with embarrassment because of his inability to collect his thoughts around you. He hears rather than sees you approach him; therefore, missing the loving smile on your face. Your arms snake around his slender waist, cheek resting against his firm chest. His own arms find their way around your shoulders as he breathed in the scent of your shampoo. Holding you like this will never get old for him and he’s reluctant to let go so he doesn’t.

“Can I sleep here tonight? With you.” He mumbles into the top of your head.

“Only if you give me a kiss first.” Jin can’t help but to laugh at the cute way you tilt your head back, full lips puckered up and demanding to be kissed. He’s quick to oblige your request.

Neither of you are really sure how, but what was a playful kiss mean to calm his nerves escalates into something much more. Your clothes and his fall soon litter the floor as you hastily undress each other. Jin’s lips only detach themselves from yours long enough to remove your sweatshirt. His own shirt doesn’t receive the same standard of care as he opts to rip the plain white tee down the middle instead.

His erection presses against your abdomen as he walks you backwards to the bed. Your hands wander the broad planes of shoulder blades as he blesses you with his weight. He encourages your legs to wrap around his waist, hips grinding against your own. The engorged head of his erection sends shockwaves of pleasure shooting through you until you're sure that you're teetering on the edge of insanity.

Euphoria spreads through your bloodstream when Jin finally begins inching his way inside you. He bottoms out with a grunt, sucking on your collarbone. His fingers slide up your arms, interlocking with yours as he pins your hands next to your head. Pressure is rapidly building in your gut with each purposeful grind of his hips. It's not long before you're tumbling over the edge with Jin following closely behind you.

You brush Jin's sweaty fringe away from his forehead. You can feel his lips curve into a smile against his chest when you sweetly kiss his forehead. He tightens his arms around you before rolling off to the side. The loss of his body heat makes sure shiver. You immediately turn to cuddle into his side, whining when he detaches your arms from his torso.

“Go pee.” Seokjin instructs with finality as he rolls you towards the edge of the bed. “Vaginal health is important.”

“Well you’re gonna have to carry me because I can’t exactly feel my legs right now.”

“With pleasure, my dear.” He rounds the bed and lifts you into his arms. He rambles the whole time about how this is totally contradictory to every fairytale ever.

You shut him up with a kiss when you’re both settled under the covers. He kisses your nose once, twice, three times before you finally shove him away from you and turn your back to him. Jin pulls you flush against him, leaving a lingering kiss on your shoulder. Sleep draws his eyes closed faster than he would like. He’d intended to truly savor the moment before travelling to dream land.

A pleasant soreness flares in your limbs as you stretch in the warm rays of the morning sun shining through the curtains. Jin grumbles out a protest at all your movement. His arms flail around lazily as he tries to restrict any further movement. You melt against him and allow yourself a few more minutes of solace wrapped in Jin’s strong arms. It’s when your third and final alarm goes off that you force yourself out of his grip and push him towards his own room.

He goes grudgingly and even puts up a fight at the door. The scaly bastard refuses to even touch the door knob until you give him a kiss. You attempt to scold him for being difficult but the amused grin that you try so hard to hide makes an appearance anyway, effectively negating your words. Of course, he takes advantage of the situation and turns what was meant to be a quick peck to get his ass in gear into a full make-out session. It takes all of your will power to separate yourself from him so that the two of you can finally get dressed but you manage somehow.

As per usual, you are showered and dressed faster than his royal slowness next door. You’ve committed the day’s itinerary to memory but you decide to check it again just to be sure you’re aware of every closing event Jin needs to attend. After inputting your passcode, you expect for your home screen to appear on your tablet but nothing happens. Your heart seizes in your chest and you immediately feel bereft. Trying to function without your tablet would be like asking you to fly and unlike Jin you are unable to sprout wings and take to the skies.

“No, no, no don’t do this to me now.” You exclaim as your beloved iPad doesn’t respond at all to your frantic stabs at the screen. No matter what you do it won’t unfreeze. You panic as your brain runs through your options. Diddly squat is what your brain conjures up as a solution. You can’t function without the summit itinerary and your tablet is holding it hostage.

Just then, you remember that you emailed a copy of it to Jin right after you’d received it from the Council after confirming Jin’s attendance. Thanks to your feline reflexes you’re across the room and flinging open the connecting door in a flash. You breathe a sigh of relief when you spot his laptop charging on his bedside table. However, that relief is short-lived when you realize that you have no idea what his password is. The sound of roaring water tells you he’s in the shower so you’re on your own. If Jin is anything he is vain and predictable so it shouldn’t be too hard to guess his password. When the sleek machine accepts PrinceJin1 on your second attempt you can’t help the small smile that lifts the corners of your lips.

The screen opens up to the word document he’d last been working on. With any hope, it’s his speech for the royal banquet next week but knowing him he’ll blow it off and pull something out of his ass on the spot. You’re about to minimize it to open the browser when a sentence in the middle of the page catches your eye.

3/20 – Kissed Kitty in the SUV on the way back to the palace

Your lungs seize up as you scroll through the extensive document. Every kiss. Every touch. Every whispered word is documented up until a few weeks ago. When you reach the top only to see the words Operation: RIP Kitty, it’s all you can do to hold back the tears threatening to burst forth. Your thoughts are a frantic, jumbled mess as they buzz around your brain like a hoard of frenzied bees. The sound of the shower turning off doesn’t even register until Jin is stepping out of the bathroom in a towel. The sight of his bare torso glistening with drops of water would normally melt you into a pool of whimpering desire but now all you feel is pure rage. His heart sinks when he sees you seated on the edge of his hotel bed holding his laptop in a death grip.

“I can explain.” He feels physically sick when you level your gaze at him. Looking into your eyes is one of his favorite things to do in the world but right now he wishes that you would look anywhere but at him.

He’s always said that you’re scariest when you’re angry but now he realizes that’s not true. Anger is an emotion. One he’s learned to deal with from you over the time he’s known you. You’re an open book and have never been shy about expressing your emotions so the fact that you’re now purposefully reigning that in to show this blank mask that’s on your face now shakes him to his core.

“I’ve always thought your brain was underdeveloped and this just confirms it.” You state calmly as you set the laptop back on the table where you’d found it.

“Babe,” You cringe outwardly at his use of such an endearing term. “I know this looks bad but-”

“Save it, Seokjin. I don’t need an explanation from you nor do I particularly want one.” He flinches at your harsh tone as you rise from your spot on his bed. Panthers are warm-blooded animals but your words are frosty. He hasn’t heard his full name come you’re your mouth in weeks and hearing it just now made him ache in a strange way.

Jin closes his eyes as you make your way back to your room. The sight of you walking away from him is more than he can take. He flinches at the sound of the door slamming shut. The finality of it sends a sharp pain shooting through his chest that nearly brings him to his knees.

He tries throughout the day to explain himself, but you are having none of it. You barely cast even a glance in his direction unless it’s absolutely necessary to do so. Sure, you make nice for appearances but your smile never reaches your eyes. Your irises that normally capture and mold rays of light into shooting stars look flat and lifeless. It kills him to know that he did that.

The next morning, Seokjin is already awake when you come to wake him up. Not that he ever actually went to sleep in the first place. Your jaw is set as your eyes look him up and down contemptuously. He’s on his feet in an instant, reaching out for you. The hiss you let out as you snatch away from him feels like a stab to the heart. Your eyes are glowing that tell-tale golden hue of your inner panther.

“Touch me again and I’ll rip your throat out. Crown be damned.” Your words are clipped and slurred as your teeth lengthen to their feline length. He’s never seen you lack this much control over yourself but it’s not like he can blame you. He broke your heart and he’s come to realize that he’s broken his own in the process.

Seokjin drags himself to the shower. The sound of the rushing water almost completely masks the sounds of his sobbing but you hear him anyway as you lay out his suit for today. You shove your fist in your mouth to keep from falling down the same rabbit hole. You’re absolutely miserable but the person you would normally go to for comfort is the cause of your anguish.

If Seokjin had thought you were frigid before, he’s sure that modern scientists haven’t even discovered temperatures as cold as the vibes you’re giving off now. When the two of you returned to Verus he had halfway expected for you to resign. That would’ve been so easy. At least then he wouldn’t have to look at you every day and be reminded of how stupid he’d been. He wouldn’t have to be reminded of the fact that he’d lost the best thing that ever happened to him through his own idiocy. But no one pays better than the palace so you need this job and he knows it.

Losing you has affected Seokjin in every aspect of his life. He can’t eat. He barely sleeps. It’s a struggle to face the world every day. A week and a half into your freeze out and Seokjin is ready to launch himself off a cliff. He normally looks forward to Sundays as they are his only free days but now? Now he rejects the laziness of the day. At least when he’s got a schedule packed full of appearances and other princely duties he has something other than his own misery to focus on.

“So, when are you and that assistant of your going to kiss and make up?” Seokjin freezes with his glass of apple juice resting against his bottom lip at his father’s question. Guessing that he’s been in a funk is one thing but there’s no way that his parents could possibly know what’s been going on between the two of you. He carefully sets his glass down, contemplating the best response.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, father.” Seokjin answers coyly. His eyes get impossibly wider when his mother snorts in response.

They know. He’s not sure how or when they found out but they know. It had to have been recently because they would’ve definitely fired you already if they’d known before now. His heart skips a few beats as he considers what this means for you. The King and Queen have always been sticklers for the rules. They hardly ever make exceptions for anyone, including their only son. Yet, he still readies himself for battle. He couldn’t save your heart but the least he can do is save your job.

“You think we don’t know what goes on around here? The palace is still just a house.” His mother remarks after a spoonful of yogurt. Seokjin hangs his head.

“How long have you known?” He asks woefully.

“Hmm, how long would you say it’s been, sweetheart?” His father asks of his mother. Had he been in a more positive state of mind, Seokjin may have picked up on the lighthearted tone in the King’s voice.

“At least a month, darling.” His head snaps up incredulously. His parents have known for an entire month that he’s been sneaking around with you and yet they said nothing? Not a single word?

“Why didn’t you say anything? I thought this was against some stupid rule?”

“It is, dear.” His mother chimes in. “We wanted her gone the second we found out but then we saw just how much you seemed to blossom. You were happy and it showed.” She reaches across the table to take her son’s hand in hers, stroking her thumb across his knuckles.

“We’re your parents before we’re monarchs and we just couldn’t take that kind of joy away from you.” Seokjin feels like he’s about to choke on the knot in his throat. Unfortunately, their words of acceptance are too little too late. You want absolutely nothing to do with him and now and he can’t even blame you.

“Plus, she’s the only assistant that could keep your chaotic ass in line. We would’ve been fools to fire her.” The king lets out a rumbling belly laugh at his own “joke”. Seokjin almost cracks a smile along with him. Almost.

“That’s because she’s terrifying but I liked it. Loved it even.” This is the first time that Seokjin has admitted the true depth of his feelings out loud. His already shattered heart cracks just a little more at the thought of his first love despising him.

“Go to her son.” His mother’s urging prompts a small huff of laughter from Seokjin but there’s not a shred of humor in it whatsoever. He tilts his head up towards the ornate ceiling of the dining room, doing his best to keep the tears at bay.

“I can’t do that.” He whispers thickly as he slowly pulls his hand from his mother’s warm embrace. “Going through that type of rejection twice might actually kill me.”

Seokjin excuses himself from the table politely. He wanders around aimlessly until he finds himself in one of the many palace gardens. A swear falls from his lips as he realizes that he’s ended up in the millennium garden. Gardenias of all kinds had been carefully curated and arranged into this breathtaking display to commemorate the millennium mark of his family’s rule. You’d mentioned once that out of all the palace gardens this one was your favorite. According to you, the air smelled sweeter here.

Smoke pours from his nostrils and he suddenly feels like he’s suffocating. His jeans and sweatshirt are a thing of the past as twenty feet of scales and fire take the place of the man that had stood at the edge of this garden. Seokjin can’t even remember the last time he’d been able to shift. It always seemed like he never had the time to revel in this form. He heaves a mental sigh of relief as he stretches out his wings and takes to the sky. The citizens far beneath him are probably taking to the streets to witness the rare sight of his midnight black form slicing through the sky.

He’s not sure where he’s going, just letting the wind beneath his wings steer him through the clouds. The Traiya mountain range looms closer and closer and for a second he contemplates letting himself crash into the rocky mountain face. That thought is squashed as quickly as it pops up. In its place, his parents’ words play on repeat. Go to her. If only he could. He doesn’t miss the way you look physically distressed every time you’re in the same room with him as if his mere presence makes you sick.

Seokjin lands in a clearing at the base of the mountain range. He shifts back to his biped form so as not to scare the wildlife and ventures into the forest in front of him. His eyes drift closed after he drops to the ground beneath a large oak tree. A small creek cuts its way through the earth. The sounds of the forest around him soothe the ache in chest even if only a little bit.

When he opens his eyes again, he notices a squirrel scouring the branches of a tree off to his right for nuts. Most of the wildlife has vacated this part of the forest after sensing Seokjin’s presence but this squirrel is on a mission that no dragon will prevent him from carrying out. The small animal seems to be inspecting each one he happens across until he finds the perfect one. Seokjin is intrigued by the picky, little rodent. So many suitable acorns and yet the squirrel passes them by after quick sniff. He walks along several branches before he finally finds one that makes him pause. Seokjin calls upon his enhanced vision and he’s shocked to see that the acorn the squirrel has set his picky sights on really isn’t all that special. He’s passed up bigger, surely more satisfying, acorns on his quest to find this one. Plus, his nut of choice looks to be slightly out of reach. That doesn’t deter the tiny rodent in the least.

Seokjin watches with rapt attention as the determined squirrel tries its hardest to grab the acorn it has its sights set on. The small animal keeps trying and trying to the point that Seokjin is contemplating getting up to get the damn acorn for it just to save the poor animal the trouble. No sooner has he shifted to stand something damn near miraculous happens. The squirrel’s outstretched class finally grip the acorn in their clutches. It tucks the nut in its cheeks before darting off to God only knows where not realizing that it has just shifted Seokjin’s entire world view.

“Well I’ll be damned.” He says out loud to the quiet forest around him.

Your heart is racing like a speeding bullet train as your feet carry you towards Seokjin’s door. You have always prided yourself on being an unwavering, unflappable force but that girl is nowhere to be found. Today, you’re a girl with everything to lose. Your heart is on the line now and you doubt that the tape you’d put on the deep fissures snaking through your will hold if this conversation doesn’t go well.

As you knock on the door, you still don’t really know what you’re doing here. When Jin had texted you quite literally begging for a few minutes of your time, you’d turned him down without a second thought. You were convinced that you didn’t want to hear anything he had to say and yet here you are.

Seokjin flings open the door before your arm has even had time to return to your side. After years of being his right hand you can tell when he’s trying to hide the fact that he’s nervous. You easily pick out each of his tells with ease as you observe him quietly, starting with the tips of ears that have turned an astonishing shade of red.

“You came.” He breathes out almost in disbelief. Seokjin looks disheveled to put it lightly and in some twisted way it makes you happy that you’re not the only one that’s been suffering since what happened.

“I told you I would.” You answer lowly. He nods, stepping aside to let you into his room.

The normally immaculate space is a mess with pieces of paper covering seemingly every available surface. You take a glance at a few of them to see various versions of what looks like a letter. A letter of apology at that. You take a deep, ragged breath as you turn back to face him. Seokjin almost looks small as he wrings his hands together.

“I was-…I tried to put my thoughts on paper but everything was just…” He trails off once more as his thumb nail becomes trapped between his teeth. You yearn to gently smooth out the wrinkles in his forehead. But you’re not about to let him sense that the soft spot you’d developed for him is still intact. If he wants your forgiveness – forgiveness that you’re still not sure you’re interested in giving – then he’s going to have to work for it. Hard.

He clears off a chair for you to sit on so you carefully perch yourself on the edge of it. Your confusion shoots through the roof when Seokjin kneels at your feet. You’ve never seen him kneel for anyone ever. Part of you wants to make him get up just to make this awkward feeling go away but he starts speaking before you can say anything.

“I’m a gigantic dumbass.” Prince Seokjin? Admitting he’s wrong? Those two phrases have never been uttered in such close proximity before because Seokjin is never wrong. It’s always someone else’s fault. To hear him taking accountability for his disastrous choices is actually terrifying. He must be feverish or something.

Before you can stop yourself, you touch the back of your hand to his forehead. His face is flushed but he’s not running a fever. You check his cheeks just to be sure. He leans into your touch, eyes drifting shut. Your breath catches in your throat at how vulnerable he looks like this. The urge to softly stroke his cheek is too strong for you to resist. His hand is warm around your wrist when he detaches your hand from his face.

“I have a hard enough time thinking around you as it.” He offers as an explanation. Your face must have been a picture of confusion. “I don’t want to mess this up again.”

As promised, you hear him out. He keeps expecting you to interrupt him as he lays everything out on the table but you don’t say a word. You sit primly on the edge of the chair with your hands neatly folded. He’s not even really sure you’re listening from the way your eyes are unfocused and seemingly staring at nothing but your facial expressions give you away. Your features move through a myriad of different emotions as Seokjin exposes his sins. You remain silent even after he finishes. Fear seizes in his heart as your face is wiped clean just as it was on the day you first learned of his transgressions.

“Please say something.” He begs. He reaches out a hand to touch your own but stops midair when your hone in on his hand as if it’s a direct threat to your physical safety. Seokjin quickly retracts his would be olive branch. It’s quiet a few moments more before you finally speak up.

“Was any of it real?” You question accusingly. He opens his mouth to say every single second with you was real but that’s a lie and he’s in deep shit as it. Better to tell the truth than to dig himself into an even deeper whole.

“At first, no but when we went to that summit in Aurlena I was so focused on finding your soft spots that I didn’t realize I was falling for all of your little intricacies until it was too late.” Jin pauses to gauge your response but you say nothing. Your eyes are actually focused on his face now though so he takes that as a positive sign and soldier on.

“It wasn’t even extravagant gestures that I fell for. It was the small smile you do every time you talk about something your passionate about. It was the way your nose scrunches up when you’re thinking. It was the way you go out of your way to help others even if they don’t notice or even appreciate what you’re doing.”

Your mouth opens as if you have something you want to say but Seokjin is on a roll that cannot be stopped. He raises a single finger as he continues his spiel.

“I don’t know much but what I do know is that somewhere in the process of all this bullshit I fell in love with you. And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me after everything I’ve done but I just needed to tell you this.”

“Even after everything you did, I think I love you too and I can’t fucking stand that.” You rise from the chair, arms wrapped around yourself as if you’re trying to hold your emotions together. Seokjin follows behind you like a lost puppy to the large bay windows that take up most of one wall.

“Doesn’t matter how I feel anyway though. I need this job more than I need a relationship and, unfortunate as it may be, I can’t have both. We’ve been pushing our luck with getting caught and I can’t keep putting my work at risk like this.”

“I could take care of you. I’m sure that you’re well aware that I’m rich.”

“I’m not some trophy wife that you can just throw money at to keep happy. I’m glad that we had this talk but I’m leaving now.” Seokjin nearly combusts into flames then and there. You infuriate him to no end. Here he is laying his heart and his money at your feet and you’d still rather throw yourself on a dagger out of some goddamn sense of pride. It makes his head spin.

“If I could work out a way for you to have both, would you do it.” Seokjin asks just as you reach the door. The short hesitation before you answer gives him hope for something good.

“Maybe.” With that final parting word, you slip out into the hallway.

A week crawls by and Seokjin doesn’t breathe a word about whatever plan he’s concocting this time. The thought of what he could possibly come up with in that wild brain of his is almost scary. You still perform your duties as his assistant flawlessly but he does his best to trip you up. A whispered compliment here. A hand that lingers just a fraction to long there. If his plan is to drive you insane so that he can have you relieved of your position due to mental incapacitation, then he’s pretty damn close to succeeding.

It’s on the twelfth day, a balmy Sunday, that it all comes to a head. You always get Sundays off so you usually take the day to head to your hometown of Alladin, a small township just short of an hour outside of the capital city. You’re in the kitchen helping your mother make lunch when your phone vibrates in your back pocket. A quick peek at the screen shows a message from Seokjin asking you to stop by his room when you return to the palace. You’re instantly suspicious of what it is he could possibly want on a Sunday evening but he’s still your boss so you tap out a quick reply confirming that you’ll pop in later.

It’s nearly ten o’clock when your fist knocks softly on Seokjin’s door. He calls out to you from somewhere inside to come in. You poke your head in the door to see him lounging in bed, scrolling through Netflix, hand shoved down the front of his pants for no real reason. He says something smart about letting all his “good air conditioning out” so you step all the way into the room and close the door.

“I had your employment contract redrawn. HR said you’ll have to switch positions but I was able to get you a four dollar raise as a consolation prize for not being able to work for me anymore. It’s on the table if you want to look at it.” You roll your eyes at his foolishness, venturing further into his inner sanctum. Thankfully, it’s a lot cleaner than it was the last time you were here. You really hope he recycled all of that paper though. You find the stack of papers you’re assuming is your new contract on the small end table next to his armchair.

“Jin,” You whisper almost unintelligibly. The papers in your hand drift back down to the table you’d picked them up from. “This is an application for a marriage license not an employment contract.”

You flip around only to get the shock of your life. For the second time, Seokjin is knelt before you. The sparkling diamond nestled in the tiny velvet box makes this time so much more significant. You hadn’t really believed him when he’d told you that you were it for him. It just couldn’t be true. You’re just a college dropout trying to be a good daughter by taking care of her parents. There’s nothing special that could’ve enraptured a man like Seokjin and yet he somehow found something in you that you’d never been able to see yourself.

“I’m a jerk. I’m impulsive. I leave my dirty underwear on the bathroom floor. I’m selfish. But I’m also hopelessly in love with you and everything you are. I don’t deserve you. I probably never will but I’m willing to spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of being yours.”

Tears stream freely down your face. This insufferable pain in the ass has really wormed his way into your heart instead and, as much as he infuriates you, you wouldn’t have it any other way. You love this man. As much as you tried to deny it, you are head over heels for the fire-breathing menace in front of you.

“Give me my ring, loser.” Jin chokes on a huff of laughter before carefully sliding the ring onto your finger.

The second it’s sitting securely on your finger, you pounce on him with all the ferocity befitting your hybrid species. It’s like crashing into a brick wall when your body collides with Seokjin’s but you don’t care. You need to be close to him and you refuse to wait a single second longer. He lifts you off of your feet as he stands from his kneeling position and carries you to his bed.

Your lips cover his for the first time in weeks. Both of you simultaneously groan in satisfaction at the feeling. You’d almost forgotten just how much you loved kissing him. Your back meets the coolness of his sheets when he carefully lays you out on his mattress. His plush lips move along your jaw, finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. He sucks and bites at the skin there as you cling to his shoulders.

Seokjin nestles himself between your legs. The zipper on his jeans looks like it could give way at any second as his erection strains to be set free. He grinds against our soaked center repeatedly. You rake your nails down the front of his button-down shirt until it hangs loose around his frame. He quickly sheds the now useless garment before treating your clothes to the same fate. Soon all that remains between the two of you are the tiny pair of red lace panties you’d put on as a confidence booster this morning. They match the bra that Seokjin has already shredded so you’re surprised when instead of ripping your panties as well he chooses to leave them on you.

His lips leave no inch of skin untouched as he kisses his way down your torso. He pauses to swirl his tongue in your navel before blowing a puff of air on your skin. The shiver that courses down your spine brings a cocky grin to your face. That grin only grows when his eyes take in the way that your back arches after he flattens his tongue against your covered heat. The lace of your panties is so thin that you can barely tell it’s there when he flicks his tongue against your engorged clit. The fabric adds just that extra little bit of friction that has you seeing stars early.

Your fingers bury themselves in the thick, black strands atop his head and he welcomes the way you tug at his roots. He continues to slowly flick his tongue along your outer lips but it’s soon becoming not enough. After a few desperate pleas, Seokjin finally rids you of your panties to eat you out like he means it. He brings you to the brink of insanity with his tongue and shoves you over the edge with a final expert flick of his tongue. You’ve never been able to come from oral that didn’t involve fingering of some sort but as usual Seokjin shows you that there’s more than one way to make a cat purr.

He finds himself being dragged back up to your mouth as your greedy lips cover his once more. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it’s a heady mixture that has a fresh wave of arousal washing over you. Your inner muscles clench around nothing and you’re aching to be filled but there’s something that you’ve been wanting to do since that fated day when you’d walked in on him with Camille.

Seokjin is aware of the fact that as a hybrid you’re a lot stronger than the average woman but he still finds himself full of surprise when you flip him on his back as if he weighed nothing. He growls low in his throat when you grab his thick erection in your fist, squeezing him tight just how he likes it.

“I want you to fuck my face.” His eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets at your bold request. Far be it for him to deny you anything you ask of him though.

He obediently gathers your hair into a ponytail and guides your head towards his waiting erection. He thrusts are shallow at first but he slowly starts picking up speed. The gagging sounds bubbling up from your throat every time he bottoms out are threatening to do him in. Your arms snake up his torso, fingers flicking at his nipples as you hold yourself down on his cock. Seokjin is surprised by his own orgasm when you swallow around him. He cums long and hard down your throat and you swallow every drop. You keep working him with your mouth until he’s squirming beneath you from oversensitivity.

You soon find yourself trapped under Seokjin’s larger frame with your thighs pressed so tightly to your chest that your ass is no longer touching the mattress. It’s in this position that he decides to bury his face between your legs. You can do nothing but feel as he explores your drenched folds with his tongue. The warm wet muscles flickers rapidly against your clit and all you can do is take it. You can’t jerk your hips away from his face like you want to. Can’t grind your hips against his face like you want to. Can’t arch your back in pleasure like you want to. You’re totally and completely at the mercy of Seokjin’s talented mouth. Black spots dance before your vision as the pressure in your abdomen reaches its boiling point.

Jin rubs soothing circles in your thighs after he releases your legs. You pull him down to you for a kiss. An odd sense of pride spreads through your chest at the feeling of something warm and hard resting against your pelvic bone. Apparently, you weren’t the only one enjoying the way he just feasted on you like a starving man. You shift your hips so that he’s pressed against your center, relishing in the deep groan he lets out as he licks and sucks at your skin at random.

He rocks against you, coating himself in your wetness. His hardened cock is covered in an unholy mixture of his precum and your juices. You’re on the verge of begging him to put it in already – totally over his teasing – when he buries himself inside you on the next rock of his agile hips. The feeling of finally being one with him again feels much more overwhelming this time around. You suspect it may have something to do with the rock weighing down your left hand. Regardless of the reason, you feel dangerously close to another orgasm just one stroke in and, judging from the way Jin has frozen inside of you, you’re not the only one. Curses fall freely from his lips as he waxes poetic about how wet and tight you are around him.

You lift your hips to meet his every thrust when he finally starts to move until he’s moving too fast for you to keep up. He pauses his movements to sit up and lift your legs so that your ankles are resting on his shoulders. The change in position allows him to slam into your g spot with every forward movement. He can tell you’re close by the way your inner muscles spasm around him with increasing frequency. The soft look in Jin’s eyes is a striking contrast to the pounding of his hips against yours. Everything you feel for him is mirrored in his irises and it only serves to push you closer to your climax. You grit your teeth and try to hold your orgasm off because you don’t want this moment to end. Jin doesn’t exactly give you a choice in the matter as he makes you come undone with a flick of his thumb against your clit. He follows you into ecstasy moments later with a growl that you really wish you had been able to record as, head thrown back.

Jin lets your legs down for the second time today and moves as if he’s about to pull out. You hastily wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles at the small of his back to keep him inside you for as long as possible. He flashes you a tired grin that makes your heart flip flop in your chest as he gathers you in his arms to turn you both on your sides. The sound of his laughter fills the air when you swat at him for blowing rings of smoke in your face.

“So where do we go from here?” You ask, breaking the pleasant silence that had settled over the two of you.

“I’m thinking the shower.” He starts as he drags a hand through his sweaty locks. He even has the audacity to look taken aback when you flick him on the nose like a disobedient hound.

“That’s not what I meant you overgrown snake with wings.” Seokjin pouts. Still rubbing at his nose but you don’t relent. You like having a solid plan for everything you do in life and you’re not about to make an exception for him.

“Well for one, you’re fired. I wasn’t actually able to get your employment contract redrawn which is bullshit because I’m the goddamn prince but my mother is on the board of an ass load of charities and all that other good philanthropy stuff and is only too happy to have you join her.”

The implications of what Jin just said smacks you in the face like a ton of bricks. Sure, it solves your initial problem of not wanting to be some trophy wife but not having your job anymore revives the issue that forced you to get this job in the first place. No job means no paycheck. No paycheck means you can’t afford to pay your dad’s medical bills.

Jin can see the hamster wheel in your head spinning at an astonishing speed. He doesn’t have to be able to read your thoughts to know exactly what they pertain to. Despite your rough exterior, you have a massive heart and will sacrifice yourself for the well-being of others. A noble trait but he can foresee it being annoying in the future.

“Before you go too far down the rabbit hole, I would also like to say that both of your parents have been enrolled in the royal healthcare plan so you won’t have to worry about your father nor your mother in that regard anymore.”

There are really no words to how much you love this man right now. None whatsoever.

“You’re still in charge of picking out my suits thought. You have vision and I don’t trust anyone else to dress me.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” The kiss that you’d intended to be soft and sweet takes an intense turn. Getting a bit more dirty before you shower can’t hurt.

#btssmutclub #hyunglinenetwork #btswritersguild #bts smut #kim seokjin #seokjin x reader #bts hybrid #dragon seokjin #panther reader #bts scenario #bts fanfiction

[merryfortune]

Flower Power

Fandom: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

Ship: Huntara/Perfuma

Word Count:  3,272

Tags: Post Canon, Slight Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, Pansexual Perfuma

   Something strange was beginning to happen around Huntara.

   Flowers were beginning to bloom where she stood and lingered too long, she could swear that if she thoughtlessly used her hands to talk, the plants around her would bob and move with the way she moved.

   But, surely not right?

   Magic was not her forte at all but she supposed that if stars could return to the night sky, along side the moons and clouds, then maybe it was possible that she was, quite literally, a late bloomer when it came to magic. It helped that this new found affinity she had with plants seemed to coincide with when her dominion, the Crimson Waste transformed from a hinterland to a beautiful and burgeoning metropolis. And yes, that was correct, it was still her dominion even though the peoples of it, scarred and roguish, were beginning to reconnect with the outside society they had shunned and they had crowned Huntara their regent.

   She was their leader, not their queen and certainly not their princess. She was Huntara of the Crimson Waste - and yes, it was still called the Crimson Waste even though it was no longer how it had been for a millenia. Scorched red sand and a hopeless place. All sandy valleys of death and the lost with a harsh sun and foreboding conditions which made it impossible to thrive. Now that magic, all magic, had returned to Etheria from its core, the Crimson Waste had been renewed as an ecosystem. There were oases, real and genuine, in the sands which now teemed with all sorts of insectoid life and the like.

   Plants, too, apparently. Not just cacti but there were a few other, desert hardy things which had begun to spring up and bloom in the Crimson Waste and these strange things, with huge mottled petals, had a definite preference for popping up wherever Huntara was and she was in a lot of places. As leader, her people - her subjects, if she could be so bold and it felt awful, for once, to be that bold - had a lot of need and want for her opinions and she was a woman of the people. She wanted to be there. On the ground, helping. A strange difference from fighting but it felt good to do good.

   But she couldn’t ignore herself. She needed a little bit of help as well. And she knew exactly who to ask to get it. 

   Perfuma had received her with open arms - and then closed ones. She was a hugger after all. Huntara stiffened at the reception of such affection but she didn’t revile it. That would be rude and she was a leader now. Huntara had to be this new thing called “polite” and Perfuma made it easy. She was such a goody two shoes sweetie after all and despite it all, Huntara was a softie so she indulged but patting the top of Perfuma’s head as her skinny little arms tried their darned best to squeeze the life out of Huntara. 

   When she finally let go, Perfuma had to take a very deep breath. Only for her arms to fling back again and she beamed, so big and wide and proud. 

   “Welcome to Plumeria, Huntara, Princess of the Crimson Waste!” Perfuma bellowed so cheerfully.

   “Hold on, hold on, I ain’t no princess, princess.” Huntara scowled as she corrected Perfuma.

   Perfuma looked up at her, all innocently confounded. “Oh, my apologies,” she said, her hands shrinking in on herself, her dress crinkling, “I had received word that the Crimson Waste had made you their leader and since your efforts have been to reconnect the Crimson Waste to the rest of Etheria, I assumed that a new kingdom had been… reborn.”

   “Your right on those counts, I can’t blame you fer gettin’ your wires crossed… but I ain’t no princess.” Huntara said only to turn uncharacteristically ginger. “But I guess that’s why I’m here. Strange things are happenin’ and I figured you might know a thing or two. You’re the one with the green thumb. Not me, mine’re, uh, purple.”

   Perfuma giggled but she nodded. “Here, allow me to show you to my inner sanctum, we can talk there in private.”

   “Much obliged, flower girl.” Huntara smiled weakly.

   Plumeria was a very beautiful place. That was an objective fact. It was verdant and lush, easygoing and relaxed. 

   Huntara found it weirdly fitting that she would come here again. She had been part of an invasion which had hassled Plumeria a long, long time ago, when she was in the Horde. Returning from that outpost in Plumeria had been the catalyst that Huntara needed to desert the Horde. Seeing its wealth and bounty had made her yearn for more than what she got at the Horde. She didn’t deserve to eat grey ration bars when there were real fruits and vegetables out there. She didn’t deserve to only know hatred and misery if there was genuine love out there; of course, she came to convince herself that a coward like her, on the run from the biggest and most terrifying force in Etheria would never be truly deserving of such things so she ended up in the Crimson Waste. 

   But now, she was back and that felt oddly right.

   Perfuma had them settled down by the shade of some overhanging linen strewn about in the trees and on pillows with a small, wooden table by their side. A servant appeared and offered them tea and other light refreshments, some of which were tiny in size. Perfuma pecked at a few and then drank from her cup of tea.

   “Rose petal,” she said, a fanciful sigh escaping her lips, “my absolute favourite blend, it’s divine.”

   Huntara awkwardly accepted. The social customs outside the Crimson Waste were egregious to her but to be courteous, she drank some. It was hot, but not too hot for her mouth, and okay. Not her favourite.

   “So, what does bring you to Plumeria? You mentioned that you wanted my counsel for an important matter but were evasive over the communications… I’ve been shivering in anticipation for your arrival.” Perfuma rambled.

   “I feel like I’m going crazy but… but I think I have magic now, the same as yours.” Huntara stiltedly replied.

   Her eyes were far off into the distance, she sat, cross legged, and away from Perfuma. Anything to avoid her gaze. It was too intense and not in the way that Huntara could usually bear the brunt of because Perfuma’s intensity was very, very sparkly for lack of a better word and right now, she was incredibly sparkly even by her measures.

   She gasped, eyes widening, “No… way!” she exclaimed.

   “I-I’m not certain. I just think its possible, when She-Ra rejuvenated Etheria with a thousand years’ worth of stored magic that I absorbed some of it since I am, er, the leader of the Crimson Waste and, for whatever reason, leaders on this planet generally tend to be, uh, gifted. So to speak. With magic.”

   Hunata stared at her hands. They were not the hands of someone who ought to excel at magic or even have the rare privilege of practising it in any way, shape, or form. All the sorcerers that Huntara had the pleasure of meeting had these tiny, soft hands which were dainty and squishy. Perfuma’s hands were a fantastic example of Huntara’s observation, for instance. The only exception she could think of to such delicacy was Scorpia, but her heart and mind were plenty soft and squishy to make up for the fact that she had pincers.

   “O-M-G!” Perfuma squealed. “We could be flower power buddies! Doesn’t that sound awesome?”

   Huntara growled. “I told you.” she all but snapped. “I don’t know for certain. Maybe I’m just seeing things.” She huffed through her nose, a hot exhale. “It could be coincidence or whatever.”

   “I think we should at least try.” Perfuma gushed. “I believe in you.”

   Huntara stiffened. Perfuma’s words were so saccharine but so sincere as well. She huffed again, more defeated this time. 

   “Yes,” she supposed, “I guess we could try.”

   That word had become the bane of an entire inter-galactic empire. Maybe it could become the boon between a princess with confirmed flower powers and a totally not princess with unconfirmed flower powers. 

   “Here, let me come closer to help.” Perfuma said and she rocketed to her feet.

   She pranced about only to plop down next to Huntara. They were knee to knee, nudging up against each other. Perfuma held onto her ankles and leaned back, her hair falling back behind her and she looked at the sky. Huntara wondered if she ought to do the same so, she did. She tilted her head back and through the foliage of the trees above, she saw scant traces of the big blue sky.

   “Huntara, dearest, I want you to think about your happy place.” Perfuma said. “We are going to do a spot of meditating. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

   “Uh, I guess. Told you, flower girl, not really my thing.” Huntara said, gruffly reminding her.

   “But plant based magic is my thing and I want you to unlock your inner Plumerian so we can get to the bottom of this whole thing you're experiencing. It's scary and exciting, don’t you think?”

   “Uh, yea-” Huntara interrupted herself with a cough. She was Huntara of the Crimson Waste. The strongest being in the Crimson Waste. She wasn’t wishy-washy or the like, she was of the toughest resolve. Or so she would damn well remind herself. “Yes. It is.” She was still staring at what could be glimpsed of the sky through the dense forest. They both were.

   “I was taken to the Heart-Blossom all the time as a baby, by my parents, so I could receive its blessing but the earliest I actually remember being taken to the Heart-Blossom was the day I activated my connection with it and I used my powers, my magic, for the first time.” There was a nostalgic sound to Perfuma’s voice but it was tinged with something else. Something more bittersweet. “I was so excited but it was so scary. My mouth opened, my eyes glazed over - or so I’m told - and I just became an unstable conduit for the Runestone’s powers… I hurt a lot of people that day. Friends, family, both…”

   Huntara looked away from the sky and unthinkingly, she reached out. Her fingers grazed Perfuma’s upper arm in some scant attempt to comfort her. She looked down from the sky as well and met Huntara’s gaze. It was saturated with concern for her.

   “No one died that day but my parents still had some of the injuries I accidentally inflicted that day on them. My Mother and my Guardian… but they never blamed me. They helped me understand my powers and control them. I want to help you do the same since… since I think you're the same. You're scared by these new things but they are so, so rewarding when reined in correctly. That’s what makes it exciting. I have the utmost faith in you, Huntara, so believe in yourself. Let’s do it. We can do it.” Perfuma rambled. There were tears in her eyes.

   “Yeah, we can.” Huntara grunted.

   She closed her eyes and steadied her breathing. Perfuma guided them both through the meditation. Huntara tried to focus on Perfuma’s voice and Perfuma’s voice alone but it was so difficult. Incredibly difficult as Plumeria was so alive. The wind sang in the branches of the trees; birds flew and flapped about; people came and went merrily as they pleased. There was so much to listen to but Huntara endured even though something as simple as sitting down and clearing her mind was strangely difficult for her.

   But Perfuma was soon more than satisfied with how Huntara did, ending the guided meditation after a minute or two, Huntara didn’t count and she had to control herself not to, she spoke again: “How do you feel?” Her voice was light and airy.

   “Focused.” Huntara elected to reply. She could think of dozens of disparaging or self deprecating replies but at the very least, she owed Perfuma something constructive, even downright positive.

   “Excellent. Open your eyes.” Perfuma ordered her, her words beginning to tumble with her excitable nature. She wanted to confirm Huntara’s magic powers more than she did.

   Swallowing, Huntara obeyed. She opened her left eye and then the right, only to be immediately dazzled by how bright the sunlight here was. It was a gentle sunlight, though but she still had to squint ahead.

   “I think you can do it. No, I know you can do it. Try and use your powers, Huntara. Please.” Perfuma told her next. It felt inciting but not like an order. Strange.

   Huntara took a breath and she stared at the ground, drilling a hole between the plush blades of grass around her. 

   “You can do it. Visualise a flower. Any flower you like and make it grow.” Perfuma encouraged her. 

   Huntara growled as she tried to follow through on Perfuma’s encouragement of her but it was very difficult. Her muscles visibly strained, her cheeks flushed, as she put all her might and power into trying to make one, teeny-tiny flower. Her efforts in vain, elicited something like sympathy from Perfuma.

   She reached out to her and her fingers caressed Huntara’s thick forearms. Her touch was surprisingly cool. Or maybe Huntara burned too hot but either way, she was soothed by how Perfuma’s fingertips ghosted over her leathery skin and Huntara breathed a bit more easily. And when she stopped trying so hard, lulled by Perfuma’s quiet encouragement, it happened.

   Magic happened.

   Before their very eyes, a flower managed to raise itself up and out of the grass, nigh out of nowhere. It was feeble and quite battered looking but as its petals, pink with white trims and golden middles, unfurled, it had an air of grace and resilience. It seemed to respond to how Huntara held her hand out to it, as though it wanted to be pet by her hands.

   Huntara’s jaw slackened and when it popped back into place, it turned into a grin. Gawky and toothy but an ecstatic grin all the same. Beside her, Perfuma squealed with joy - a helluva lot more than what Huntara had. She hugged Huntara from side on, snuggling into her rock-hard side and beaming as well.

   “You did it.” Perfuma cheered.

   “Y-Yeah, I did. I’m not goin’ crazy. I’m magic.” Huntara sounded breathless.

   “Yes, you are. You are very magical, my beautiful desert rose.” Perfuma told her, her voice husky.

   “You are very bold, flower girl.” Huntara half-warned her, she caressed Perfuma’s narrow face and tilted it upwards towards. Her arms slackened but Perfuma was very handsy, they remained nestled on Huntara’s hulking legs now.

   Perfuma giggled. “I’m about to get much bolder.”

   “Oh?” Huntara was intrigued; her brow quirked.

   “In my eyes, you are Princess Huntara of the Crimson Waste and I propose that the Crimson Waste becomes a vassal territory of Plumeria. I believe we have a lot in common.” Perfuma said and she seemed all too cocky, fluttering her long, blonde eyelashes and Huntara couldn’t be mad. She wanted to be but she was charmed by the strength that Perfuma was exhibiting instead.

   “That is bold.” Huntara agreed.

   “So, what do you think?” Perfuma asked.

   “I think I would prefer to be Huntara, Strongest of the Crimson Waste, brilliant and dashing leader, partner state to Plumeria and that’s it.” Huntara bargained, voice dropping low and even flirtatious.

   Perfuma giggled, she reached up and toyed with the jagged fluff of the collar on Huntara’s jacket.

   “How about… partner to the Princess and acting Queen of Plumeria?” Perfuma asked.

   “That’s a bit more up my alley, flower girl.” Huntara said and she caressed Perfuma’s chin gently and leaned in.

   Completely oblivious to such a signal, Perfuma squealed: “Ooh, it’s so exciting! We’re going to be in cahoots! I’ve never been in cahoots with someone before- and oh my gosh, you are trying to kiss me now aren’t you?”

   Huntara laughed as she poked Perfuma’s cheek with her thumb, stroking it backwards.

   “Ayup.” she grunted.

   “Please do that, thank you.” Perfuma smiled.

   “Sounds good, flower girl.” Huntara said.

   She leaned in and their lips connected. Perfuma giggled through the kiss, it reverberated on Huntara’s lips and she didn’t dislike it at all, as annoying as it was, and in fact liked it quite a bit. Still, it was more a kiss of lip to teeth but Huntara didn’t mind much as she there was so much joy in how Perfuma reacted to being kissed. So, Huntara kept at it, more than happily. Perfuma’s mouth was sweet with the taste of tea and the other confections which she had been snacking on. It was nice. Best of all, she didn’t mind one bit that Huntara had such big teeth jutting out her mouth, it seemed she even relished how they nudged up against her face as Huntara kissed her.

   Perfuma sighed when Huntara, regrettably, pulled back. They both had to breathe, after all. Perfuma giggled an awkward and overjoyed giggle. It was painfully shrill on Huntara’s ears but luckily for Perfuma, Huntara was endeared to such a raucous noise for one reason or another.

   “To a long and prosperous union between Plumeria and the Crimson Waste.” Perfuma said.

   “Sure thing, short-stack.” Huntara replied, bearing a cocky smile of her own.

   Perfuma smiled back, eyes closed, lashes fluttering and when she opened them, they were brimming so happy. Her hand swept aside and she plucked the flower from the ground, the one which Huntara had managed to make rise up from nothingness. 

   “Ooh, a plumeria.” Perfuma gasped as she half-heartedly examined the flower, twirling it between her slender fingers.

   “Heh, yeah, whaddya know, it is.” Huntara replied, pretending that she was any good at identifying flowers outside of what was edible and what would poison you.

   “A good omen, I think. Most fortuitous.” Perfuma nodded sagely. “Hey, may I press this flower for you? I want you to keep it, a memento of the first time using your powers on purpose.”

   “I’d like that, kiddo.” Huntara said and she petted the top of Perfuma’s head. Her hair was so tightly bound back over the crown of it and fed into that big, fluffy ponytail of hers. It was nice.

   Perfuma laughed and playfully swatted Huntara’s large hand away from her. She got up, her petalled skirt shaking and shimmying about as she dusted herself down.

   “I’ll be right back,” Perfuma said, “and when I do come back, I’d like it a lot if you let me help you practice your magic some more.”

   “I’d like that a lot too, flower girl.” Huntara replied, something of a contented sigh escaping her mouth as she leaned back, one arm planted to the ground to prop her up.

   Perfuma squealed excitedly again and Huntara cringed but if Perfuma was happy, she was happy. Simple as that. Perfuma hurried off and Huntara very much decided she liked to see that girl go; that halter drop on her back was very nice. But what was nicer, was how she treated Huntara. Felt weirdly good to be worthy of commemorative knickknacks and kisses. She couldn’t help but look forward to future lessons, speaking strictly as a liaison from the Crimson Waste, not their princess, merely their leader and liaison, both romantic and official to the Princess and acting Queen of Plumeria, of course.

#femslash #shera #she-ra and the princesses of power #she ra and the princesses of power #spop #light spop spoilers #she ra #huntara (spop) #perfuma (spop) #hunfuma #huntara x perfuma #perfuma x huntara #writing tag #flower and power

[providentially-demonic]

Stand as One, Undivided: Ch. 1

So, since there was some interest in seeing this, I present the first chapter of Stand as One, Undivided (Title taken from the song “With you by my side”) written with the lovely @phantoms-lair​.

Summary: Cassandra returns to Corona after a year away for Rapunzel and Eugene's wedding. She doesn't come as a guest, but instead to keep things from going wrong, because nothing ever goes as planned for those two. Cass has come back to make sure things go smoothly for their wedding, since things tend to blow up (sometimes literally) around them. Things... do not go according to plan.

Chapter One: Back to Corona

(This literally came to be because of a comment Phantom made about the reason we didn't see Cass at the wedding was because she was in the rafters. Things grew from there. I promise it'll make sense in the next chapter.) 

This is obviously New dream, but I swear if you see hints of other ships, I don't mind, though that is strictly up to personal interpretation.

Back to Corona

It had been a year since she’d seen Corona.

Cassandra hadn’t intended to be back this soon, but a flyer spotted in Vardaros had made her hurry back as fast as Fidella could carry her. Thankfully, Fidella was in fine fettle, it was spring and there was no end of bounty for one mare. Cass herself was a little thinner, but her own skill at archery and Owl’s willing assistance had allowed her to keep herself fed. She hadn’t had to dip into the pouch of coin Rapunzel had pressed onto her before she’d left too much.

Cassandra pulled her hood up as they reached the bridge. Best not to show her face. There were sure to be factions who had neither forgotten nor forgiven what she had done a year ago. Fidella’s ears perked up and she danced in place, whickering excitedly. She was happy to be back, at least. Cassandra gave the mare her head and she cantered across the bridge, practically prancing with her head up and tail flagged.

Chuckling softly, Cass reached down and scratched Fidella’s neck. “I know, girl. You can’t wait to see Max again.” She lowered her head, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Don’t you ever tell Eugene I said this but I can’t wait to see him and Raps again.”

Fidella whickered and playfully bucked in place before stretching her legs into a gallop. The closer they got to the city proper, the more signs of the festivities Cassandra could see. She grimaced playfully at a large tapestry being hung. A year and they still hadn’t gotten Eugene’s nose right. “It was much more obnoxious than that,” she said aloud to Fidella.

The city looked much the same as it had looked in her youth, but here and there she could see the scars of a battle hard-fought. A wall that had the distinctive shape of a spire of black rock carved deep into it. A series of holes from the same rock punching  a pattern in the wall of a house. But the scars weren’t that numerous and many had been transformed into something beautiful. Here, another set of holes had been inset with pieces of stained glass representing the sun-crest of Corona. There, a tumbled wall had been made into a terraced herb garden, the green tang of the growing things adding a distinctive scent to the air.

She could see Rapunzel's hand in all of it, every painted line and pocket of greenery. Corona’s beloved barefoot princess hard at work in restoring the damage done, a great deal of it by Cassandra’s own hand. She unconsciously clenched her hand in its custom armored glove and had to force herself to relax it when she felt the pull of the scars. It was long since healed but still bothered her in cold or wet weather.

She passed a giant dovecote and winced at the clamor of whirring wings and coos. Yep, that was King Frederic’s addition to the festivities. His motto should have been go big or go home, she thought with a snicker. Not that the queen was much better, she thought, laughing aloud at the sight of a massive net full of floating lanterns.

In spite of everything, it felt good to be back. Wheeling Fidella, she sent the mare down a side street away from the worst of the festival preparations. She spotted a familiar wall ahead and thumped her heels into Fidella’s ribs, loosening her grip on the reins. With a gleeful whinney, Fidella launched herself into a headlong gallop toward the obstacle. Cassandra laughed with delighted abandon as the mare took the jump over the wall with ease. They landed in what had been her private training ground, a space at the back of the guard barracks. It had suffered some damage in the invasion, but still looked so familiar that she smiled, running her fingers along a battered training dummy. She swung down from the saddle and pulled her hooded cloak close around her.

After unsaddling Fidella and leaving her to crop the grass, she followed along the wall until she came to a grate. She hefted it to one side and was pleased to see the tunnel was still clear. She slipped in and pulled the grate closed behind her. Even without a light, her feet still knew every step of the way. She found the small door at the opposite end and cracked it carefully to peer through. The sight of a familiar head bent over a desk sent a pang through her. Maybe she should have come back sooner. “Hi, dad—”

Her father upset his chair, he whirled so fast. “Cass!” There was delight in his face, even as tears ran down his cheeks. When his arms closed around her a little too tight to be comfortable, she laughed wetly, tears pricking at her own eyes. “I missed you, dad.”

He chuckled, that rare laugh that she had delighted in teasing out of him when she was a little girl, rumbling through where he held her pressed close to his chest. “I knew you couldn’t stay away, not from this.”

She shook her head, pushing back lightly to give herself enough room to look into his face. “Dad—”

“Rapunzel will be delighted to see you, honey.” he beamed.

“I’m not here to be seen, dad.” Cass said.

“But—”

She raked a lock of hair out of her eyes. “When have things ever gone smoothly for those two, dad?” she retorted. “I’m only here to make sure nothing interferes with Rapunzel’s big day, oh, and the pretty boy’s too.” She laughed softly. “I’m just here to see that they get their moment without anything going wrong.”

“Honey, you know the princess has missed you every single day. She’d want to know you were here.”

Cassandra shook her head again. "Maybe I'm not ready to be seen. I'm weak, dad, and she could so easily convince me to stay."

He sighed and released her. "Is it bad that I want her to? I miss you, honey. You know Rapunzel does. So does Eugene, even if he won't admit it."

She punched him playfully in the arm. "You've softened! I didn't think you ever would."

He scoffed. "Hardly softened. Only person I'm harder on is myself. He's learning, but he doesn't have my level of experience."

"What are you doing now? I mean you hadn't said anything about finding another position before I left."

"I'm the guard coordinator now. I schedule patrols and plan where they patrol. Not quite as glamorous as Captain, but—" he chuckled, ruffling her hair. "It's good, Cass. I promise. And he still consults with me for my experience, so—"

"But are you happy, dad?" Cassandra asked. "You took so much pride in being the captain."

"I am, sweetheart. I can still protect Corona this way.  And you know there is only one thing that would make me happier."

"Dad—" she sighed, blowing a lock of hair out of her eyes. "Let me find my own destiny for a bit. Whether it's here or out there somewhere, I still have to figure out. But I promise I'll come back, even if it's only for visits."

He sagged a little. “I— I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you didn’t belong here. I kept you out of the guard out of my own selfishness. I didn’t want to see you hurt, because our first duty as guards is to protect others, even if it means putting ourselves in harm’s way.”

She blew air out her nose in a scoff. “I know, dad. And maybe I was bitter about it then, but I like to think I’ve grown a bit.”

He measured a space above her head with his hand. “Maybe just a teeny bit.”

Cassandra elbowed him. “Not again with the short jokes!” But she was smiling.

He laughed. “You set yourself up for that one, sweetheart.” Still smiling at her, he settled himself back into his chair. “Tell me what you need.”

“Where’s the ceremony being held?”

“The Grand Chapel. You know King Frederic would accept nothing less.”

“Urgh, that makes it harder. Too many entrances and far too many places for trouble to hide.”

He shot her a reproving look. “Trust me on knowing where to station people. I’ve got guards on every entrance and regular sweeps through the chapel up until the ceremony.”

“And you know if someone is determined enough, that’s not going to stop them." Cassandra leaned against the wall. "Here's your measure. Could Eugene; in his bad old days as Flynn Rider, break in? If the answer is yes, or any variation of probably, possibly, or even maybe, you need to tighten security."

Her father blew a long breath out, his eyes full of fondness. "Only you, Cass. Only you could think along those lines. Will doubling the guard be enough? Or should I institute more patrols too?"

"Some of both, dad. Put more guards on the obvious entrances, and more patrols and guards inside, covering the less-obvious ones. Hey, didn't Fitzherbert say something about promoting Varian to a royal alchemist before I left?"

Her father nodded. “Royal Engineer is the princess’s chosen title. He has a lab built out of the old secret chamber under the Vault. He's probably there right now..." His voice lilted a little on the end, making it almost a question.

"Stop trying to make me see people who'll go out of their way to convince me to stay, dad. Have him make up some of his old pest traps, portable ones that the guards can all carry and set one each on several of the most likely entrance points. Give him a blueprint of the chapel and he'll outdo himself with traps."

"Cassandra, you do realize there will be guests at the wedding?" He reminded her with no little humor in his voice. "I dare say some of them will wander about before the ceremony itself."

She smirked back. "Think they'll try to cause an incident because their shoes were glued to the floor? I'd look to anyone who does as a prime suspect." She muffled a snort of laughter into one glove. "I know Raps invited the pub thugs. Those guys would take it as a challenge if they got caught in one of the kid's traps."

He stood and ruffled her hair. "Sweetie, I sometimes forget how ruthless you can be." Reaching into a drawer of his desk, he pulled out a plan of the Grand Chapel and unrolled it over the top of the desk. "I have men stationed here, here, here and—"

Cass joined him at the table, leaning her shoulder into his as she traced lines and moved markers to stand for guards. It felt familiar and like home. She pushed the thought aside in favor of the plans. She had a job to do, after all.

#tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #fanfic #tts #rta #post series #rta cassandra #rta rapunzel #rta eugene #This begins during the wedding short film #tangled ever after #Stand as One Undivided

[bbrandy2002]

Birth of an Heir... Part Two

Book: The Royal Heir

Liam x Riley

Part one

A/N: Turned into another total fluff piece, I'm becoming a softy 😕. I had one of my kids choose the baby's name of the ones given in the comments and @kingliam2019 was the winner.

Warning: Drake Walker has a potty mouth and will use profanity in the chapter, but, he's still lovable marshmallow all the same.

These characters belong to Pixelberry.

Birth of an Heir Part 2

Riley stands at the window of her third floor hospital room, observant of the overflowing press crowded below. It had been several hours since the birth of her son and well past midnight. Exhaustion had reached it's peak, yet, adrenaline and a newborn would keep her awake. Another news crew ascends into the mass influx of cameras, sateliites and curious, Cordonian bystanders. "Do they ever sleep?", she asks with astonishment, however, her question is met with silence. She turns, and instantly her heart melts from a simple, yet, poignant sight.

"You are hopeless, you know that right?", she says with a gentle smile.

Liam is sitting in a rocking chair,  holding his first born child, whom seems to fit perfectly, like a small package in his arms. His thumb grazing the soft cheeks and his eyes focused,  contently, on what he considers the second best thing to enter his life. With heavy eyes, he searches and memorizes every single line and detail, and takes to heart, every sound and breath this tiny creature makes. He is afraid to fall asleep, he cannot fathom for one moment the seperation that comes with it. This baby already has his father under a spell that is similar to the way his mother does.

Riley walks closer to him, still slowed by soreness and tenderness with each step. She shakes her head and playfully rolls her eyes, "Liam, did you hear what I said?"

He looks up to her, "I'm sorry dear, did you need something?".

She bites her bottom lip before lightly rubbing her hand up and down his arm, "I said you're hopeless....you know I have to hold him more than just when feeding him, right?".

Liam nods his head and speaks with a teasing whisper, "We'll see about that", as he gives her a quick wink.

Riley sighs, "yep.....hopeless", then leans in to a soft kiss.

She removes her robe, kicks off her slippers, then lowers herself steadily onto her hospital bed. After pulling the sheet over her tired and worn body, out of habit, she rolls to her left side. Riley wants to drift off, but, the events of the day are flourishing in her thoughts. Suddenly, like a vision of sorts, one that is always present in her mind, a familiar story begins to play......

A flash of bright blue that meets her soft brown. An instant spark, a physical attraction, a moment when two lost souls find one another. A beginning.

"Sorry I'm late. Thank you for your patience, Miss...?"

The first time the heat of his lips devoured hers after an impromtu private tour of the Statue of Liberty.

"You're full of surprises aren't you?"

"I try"

"I'm glad to have met you Riley, I'll never forget this night".

A chance of a lifetime, when fate opened a door and offered her an opportunity.

"You want to sponsor me? Why?".

"I'm not doing it just for you, I saw how Liam looked at you last night. I've never seen him so happy...".

The first time he swept her off her feet, literally....the moment her heart felt more than just an attraction, but, the start of a love affair. A waltz to remember.

"I dont....I'm not sure I know the steps."

"Just follow my lead".

Like something out of a fairy tale, darkness surrounded by small, white lights and the shimmer of the moon. Closed off from the rest of the world, it would become a place where memories are made.

"We made it....the center of the maze..and I do believe I won".

"How do you figure that?".

"Easy, I'm on top".

"Hard to argue with that".

"Then don't"

"Something about you...it just feels...right to be around you".

"Liam, I feel the same way".

An exhilerating jump, involving total trust in one another.

"It's said that if two lovers climb to the top of the waterfall and jump in together, they'll get the blessings of the water".

A warm, spring day, filled with pink blossoms and the aroma of freshly baked pies. When she became a queen for the first time and the apple of his eye.

"Meeting you in New York was one of the best things that ever happened to me. You changed my life".

A country soiree, a swing decorated with flowers. He was giddy, playful and childlike.

"...I want you to know, I can't wait for the coronation".

"I can't wait either".

The simple, yet, perfect candlelit dinner, when he opened up to her and shared his biggest dream.

"Maybe this is sentimental, but, its been on my mind lately.....What I really want is to have a family...and not the type most kings have, but, one where we're close and listen to each other....".

The night the stars glistened in the sky above her, three words that rained down and changed everything. A merging of pleasure and senses like never before. The most beautiful , endearing intertwining of bodies and demonstration of devotion ever.

"I've never said this before, but, its more true than my own name. Which is all to say...Riley...I love you".

"Liam, I've been madly in love with you since the day we met...".

"I love you and I want you".

"Then take me, Liam".

And after a period of turmoil, secrecy , and undeserved scrutiny, when she realized air doesn't exist without Liam....she doesn't exist without Liam....they came full circle.

"Riley...all that I want in this life is to dedicate my life to being the best man and king that I can be...for you...Lady Riley Brooks, queen of my heart, I have yearned to say these four words for a very, very long time...Will you marry me?".

"Yes...a thousand times...yes".

When happily ever after truly began....

"I promise to love you, honor you and cherish you. To support you, fight for you and inspire you....as you have always done for me....No matter what the future holds for us, I know that together is where we're meant to be".

A warmth overcomes her body and the corner of her lips curl. She opens her eyes again and peaks once more at the two most sacred things in her life. One is her soulmate, her king, her love; the other is their finest masterpiece.

A faint cry echo's through the calmness of the darkened room. Liam gently lifts the baby to his chest, its head nuzzled securely into his neck. He places one hand on its bottom and the other lightly presses soft chubby cheeks closer to him. He leans forward, planting a lingering kiss through a blue cap, covering fine, peach fuzz hairs. Liam senses her stare and glances up. A faint smile emerges, that not a human in Cordonia could wipe away. With a low, raspy voice, he utters, "I love you".

Those words always send a chill down her spine, however, the emotion and pride in his voice this time, causes her to shed a tear, "I love you, too".

Her body gives way to sleep, assured that her two boys will keep one another company until she wakes.

************

Eyes slowly flutter open and Riley recognizes the presence of early dawn's light. She lifts her stiffened neck to see Liam laying in a small bed near the window; when you're the King, the hospital ensures you continue to sleep like royalty. Next to his bed, he had slid the baby's cot next to him.

She rubbed her eyes, trying to fully awaken. After getting out of her bed, she slips her shoes back on and treks to her infants side. Liam actually fell asleep with his hand in the cot, so Riley picks it up and moves it, placing it on his chest, -Hopeless.

She then lifts her wiggling bundle up and carries him back to her bed.

Lowering her gown down, the baby latches on after a few tries, suckling with tiny fingers gripped to her breast.

Riley watches in awe and amazement, as the most precious bond in the world takes shape. His little eyes twinkle and he is full of energy. She chuckles at his arm movements and how he seems to be devouring his breakfast.

She smiles at him, then tilts her head; she couldn't tell last night, but, relishes in the fact that he definately looks every bit like her husband.

There is a tap at the door and Riley gives permission for them to enter. The first thing she sees is a cascade of balloons and a large stuffed teddy bear, followed by the always gleeful, Maxwell. Trailing behind him, a seemingly recovered Hana, and weary eyed, Drake.

Once Hana slaps a few balloons from her face, she makes her way over to Riley's bedside. "Oh my goodness...Riles, he's so small and handsome".

After Drake gets caught up in the balloons as well and Maxwell runs into him a few times with the stuffed bear, he gets another glance at his namesake. Realizing she is breastfeeding, his face begins to blush, he stammers and fidgets. "Um...um...yeah...I'm just going to...um...look at this wall...that's some fine craftsmanship...this wall". He starts knocking on the wall as if he is checking the quality of its structure.

Maxwell laughs, "Augh, come on Drake, its just boobies....besides, the kids head is blocking the good stuff."

Hana and Riley look at each other, both chuckling at the two men.

Riley notices that Bertrand was not with them and asks Maxwell if he plans to visit.

Maxwell and Hana look at each other and snorted out in laughter.

Confused, "What's so funny guys...what am I missing?", she asks.

Drake still facing the wall, himself amused by the answer to her question, can't help but chime in, "Let just say, ol' Bertrand....", he starts laughing again, "Bertrand....". Drake can"t get the words out before he starts snickering even harder.

Annoyed by all the laughing, Riley threatens to kick all of them out unless they tell her what is so funny.

All three make attempts, however, are still struggling; they have tears running down their cheeks and faces that are bright red.

"That's it...out", Riley finally tells them.

Drake is able to compose himself, taking in deep breaths, "Okay, so...last night at the shower...everyone got...well..got sick from Maxwell's fucking punch as you know", he continues with some difficulty in spitting the words out.

Maxwell wipes a tear from his eye, "Let's just say, Bertrand had to call someone about the mess Madeleine made off the balcony last night".

Riley's grimaces, "Okay. I don't even want to know".

Hana asks if the baby has a name yet.

She looks down at her son, who has finished his feeding and covers herself back up. Riley adjusts the baby into a more comfortable position and looks up with a smile. "I would like to introduce you to the new Crown Prince of Cordonia...Nikolas Drake Beaumont Lee".

All three are touched as she explains how important each one of them are to her and Liam, and hopes the baby carries a little pieces of his namessake. After a short visit, her friends leave, Maxwell promising to return later with junk food and booze.

Shortly after, Liam stirs, surprised she didn't wake him up.

He shuffles to her bedside, kissing her tenderly. Liam searches her eyes, cupping her cheek, "I just want you to know, you are the most incredible woman I have ever met. You have always amazed me, but, I will never be able to thank you enough for making all of my dreams come true".

He has a way with words, always has, she thinks to herself. She gets a mischievous smile, "I know a way that you can start thanking me".

He raises an eyebrow, intriqued, "Anything for my queen".

She lifts the baby up and gently places him in Liam's loving arms, "He needs a diaper change".

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