#only safe in a gilded cage onto our own

[optimisticlucio]

So, about 5 days back YouGov released poll results for a very comprehensive public opinion poll they did for the US, which you can see here: https://d3nkl3psvxxpe9.cloudfront.net/documents/econTabReport_tT4jyzG.pdf The poll itself asks about a lot of different topics, but the section I wanna focus on here is the section between pages 96 to 112, which focuses on Antisemitism and Israel. Most polls with questions like these tended to only survey around 100~200 people, and had really depressing results, so I was really hoping going into this study that we'd see some more cheerful statistics. Maybe those small sample sizes caused some bias, I dunno. Maybe the numbers were off.

I kept being disappointed by how many people denied the holocaust in those studies. I didn't want to believe those numbers were real, quite frankly.

Well.

Of a poll of 1500 people, give or take, 7% say the holocaust is a myth, with another 16% saying they "don't know" whether it is or isn't, with people in the 18-29 age group having even more alarming numbers than that: 20% think the holocaust is a myth, and 30% that they don't know. Conversely, in the 65+ age group, not a single responder denies the holocaust.

If you take this poll as being representative, then out of 331.9 million people living in the US, that gives us about 23.2 million people (rounded down) in the US alone who think the holocaust did not happen.

For reference, there are only 16.2 million jews in the entire world, with 7.1~ million of them in Israel.

Turns out the numbers I saw previously were representative.

Fuck, dude.

#judaism #jumblr #antisemitism #politics #this is. #this is fucked #i legitimately have no idea how to process it #i keep trying to be optimistic yknow #trying to think “nah it's not all bad” #I still refuse to give in to the rhetoric that we are only safe in israel #only safe in a gilded cage onto our own #but what the fuck can i do here dude #you can read the numbers as well as I do #this is #fuck. #ישראבלר

[cassandraclare]

The Whispering Room: James’ POV

Here it is finally — James’ POV of the Whispering Room scene from Chain of Gold. I wanted to wait until Chain of Iron was released to give more people a chance to read the book, and also because what we learn in COI does inform the scene. I hope you enjoy!

*art by Cassandra Jean

Cortana wove with her words, underlining each one with steel. She turned as her sword turned, and her body curved and moved like water or fire, like a river under an infinity of stars. It was beautiful—she was beautiful, but it was not a distant beauty. It was a beauty that lived and breathed and reached out with its hands to crush James’s chest and make him breathless. — Chain of Gold

James had felt a strange emotion when Daisy first took the stage at the Hell Ruelle. It was a mix of several feelings...

worry on her behalf, annoyance at Kellington, curiosity, and admiration for her bravery and poise. It was unfair of these Bohemians to force her to caper for them, and, he thought, a bit insulting to Shadowhunters in general. He supposed that Matthew had given them a rather unusual view of what the Nephilim were like in such circumstances.

And then she had begun to dance. And suddenly she was not Daisy, his old friend. She was Cordelia, whose name meant heart, whose every gesture was fire. Every earthly worry he’d had had been swept out of his mind. He was conscious only of Cordelia, whirling back and forth across the small stage. Cortana danced around her, shedding light like embers. The dull glow of the lamps illuminated her body, describing her every movement, her every curve as she danced. Her scarlet hair whipped around her in time to the music, and the golden light of the lamps in the Ruelle slipped across her skin, slow and hot, like beads of honey. The cadences of her voice, rising and falling, seemed to weave a cage of silken thread about her audience, and James was no exception.

Later, James would think it was odd that he had not compared her to Grace. Grace had never entered his mind at all. Cordelia danced, and by the end of her performance, James’s entire life had been disassembled and put back together in a new and different shape. He was conscious of Matthew, beside him, also staring as the crowd cheered, his sharp cheekbones flushed. He looked dazed; James couldn’t blame him.

Cordelia descended the stage and slipped through the crowd to come back to them, blushing at the looks and murmured comments she was drawing from the audience now. James could see the desire in the eyes that followed her. Everyone wanted her. He felt a dull fury. They had no right. They did not know Cordelia. She was more than just that dance.

When she reached them she let out a long breath of relief and smiled. She glowed with the exercise of dancing. Sweat beaded along her collarbones, shimmered between her breasts. Her eyes were bright as Cortana’s blade, strapped to her back.

“Bloody hell,” Matthew exclaimed.  “What was that?”

A look of uncertainty crossed Cordelia’s face. James said, “It was a fairy tale, Math,” and Matthew nodded. His dark green eyes searched Cordelia’s face, as if looking for the key to a locked room he had only just discovered.

Cordelia looked uncertain. James couldn’t bear that. She’d been magnificent; she should know it. But he couldn’t say that, of course. It would only make her self-conscious.

“Well done, Cordelia,” James said instead; when he unfolded his arms; his wrist hurt and he wondered if he’d been clenching his hands.

Cordelia. He hadn’t called her Daisy, and she looked a little surprised. It seemed inappropriate, somehow. Daisy was Lucie’s friend, the Merry Thieves’ compatriot; he found it a smaller name than she deserved. Cordelia, though—she had been a queen, hadn’t she? Queen Cordelia, daughter of Leir, ruler of Britain before the Romans had ever landed on those shores. Like Boadicea, a legendary warrior queen. A blazing white fire behind fathomless black eyes.

“Anna has disappeared with Hypatia,” James said, noting the empty settee, “so I would call your distraction a success.”

Cordelia’s lips twitched into a smile. “How long does a seduction usually last?”

“Depends if you do it properly,” Matthew said, with a wink. James felt it as a spark of relief, a bit of lightness amid the feeling that something heavy was sitting on his chest.

“Well, I hope for Hypatia’s sake Anna does it properly,” James said. He registered, with the reflexes of a parabatai, that Matthew had gone still next to him, and wondered what was wrong. “Yet for our sake, I hope she hurries it up.”

All hint of Matthew’s jocular tone from before was gone. “Both of you,” he said urgently. “Listen.”

Did he mean all the muttering about Shadowhunters? Was he only noticing it now? It had followed them since they came into the place. But when James followed Matthew’s gaze, he found Kellington staring with an expression of vexation, not at them but at the door. All questions were answered as through the door came Charles Fairchild, looking around him with a haughty expression. He looked like was about to raid the place; so much for whatever work Matthew and Anna had done for Downworlder-Shadowhunter relations here.

Matthew narrowed his eyes. “Charles,” he sighed. “By the Angel, what is he doing here?”

Charles was, James thought, probably looking for them. He was making his way through the crowd and gazing around him. Luckily for them, the crowd was not interested in letting him through, and he was moving very slowly.

“We should go,” James said. “But we can’t leave Anna.”

In one way, at least, Charles’s arrival was helpful; it threw a bucket of cold water on the roiling heat that had gripped James’s heart since Cordelia had begun her dance. Back to the matter at hand: a demon, a Pyxis, a plan.

“You two run and hide yourselves,” Matthew said, still keeping his eyes on his brother. “Charles will go off his head if he sees you here.”

“But what about you?” said Cordelia.

Matthew shrugged, but James could see the tension in his jaw and his shoulders. “He’s used to this kind of thing from me. I’ll deal with Charles.”

Not for the first time, James wished that his parabatai wasn’t in such a hurry to sacrifice his own reputation. He exchanged a long look with Matthew, but Matthew was sure, and determined, and his desire to rush into his own humiliation was an issue that would have to wait. Nodding, he turned and caught Cordelia’s hand with his own. “This way,” he said, and she nodded back in acknowledgement. As he pulled them into the crowd he heard Matthew’s voice calling, “Charles!” in a hearty tone of pleasant, if entirely false, welcome.

James didn’t know his way around the place, and the crowd made orientating himself even more difficult, but after some trial and error he and Cordelia managed to get behind Kellington and slip into a corridor leading away. This wasn’t safe in itself, since from the main chamber one would have a clear view down the entire corridor. In fact, they were temporarily more exposed than before, and James’s hope for the hallway to take a quick turn or to contain large statuary to hide behind was quickly dashed. He continued to hold onto Cordelia’s hand, not that he needed to; she seemed to know her way better than he did.

Partway down the corridor, James caught sight of an open door — its silver plaque labeling it the entrance to THE WHISPERING ROOM. Swiftly he drew Cordelia inside, out of sight. He slammed the door behind them, causing a loud noise, but he thought it couldn’t possibly be heard over the crowd in the main chamber. Only then did he release Cordelia’s hand and take stock of their surroundings.

The room was dimly lit, but not cold: a scented fire burned in the grate, filling the space with the smell of sandalwood and roses. It was a study, he guessed, based on the gigantic walnut desk against the wall and the bookshelves opposite, but it was too richly decorated to be solely a place for studious contemplation. Phoenix feathers and dragon scales danced across the gilded wallpaper; there were no windows, but the walls were hung with patterned tapestries, the floor covered with a rug so thick James felt his boots sink into it as he moved further into the room.

Cordelia had leaned her back against the wall next to the door. Her eyes were closed and she was taking deep, full breaths, calming herself down. Cortana gleamed gold over her shoulder; the firelight gleamed a deeper gold on her skin, which seemed to take and hold its warmth. James curled his fingers in against his palm.

He wanted to touch her. He half-turned away, pretending to study the books on the wall. Any other time, he would have been fascinated by the titles. Now they seemed distant, neither immediate nor imporant. He could have sworn he heard his own heart hammering. He said, “Where did you learn to dance like that?” surprising himself with the roughness of his own voice.

His gaze snapped back to Cordelia as she opened her eyes and gave a little shrug. There was something magical about the dress she wore: it followed the shape of her own body rather than the shape of corsetry or whalebone petticoats. It slid softly against her skin as she moved, just as her dark red hair tickled the bare skin of her throat, her shoulders. “I had a dance instructor in Paris. My mother believed that learning to dance aided in learning grace in battle.”

The word grace pierced James like an icicle. He could not quite picture Grace at the moment, it was true; could not quite envision her face. He had given Grace his heart — that was an immutable fact, something he knew as he knew that two plus two equaled four. But he had to admit that at the moment his heart did not feel given. It felt like a thrumming machine inside his chest, pumping blood and heat.

“That dance,” Cordelia added with a quirk of her soft mouth that struck James like a blow to the stomach, “was forbidden to be taught to unmarried ladies. But my dance instructor did not care.”

“Well,” James said, keeping his voice steady with practiced control, “thank the Angel you were there. Matthew and I could certainly not have pulled off that dance on our own.”

Cordelia turned away from him, the smile still on her face, as though she were keeping it secret from him. She trailed her hand along the top of Hypatia’s desk. At one end was a stack of papers held down by a large copper bowl of fruit, and she brought her hand up to trace its rim.

James may have been distracted beyond the capacity for distraction he’d known before, but he was still a Shadowhunter. “Be careful,” he said warningly. “I suspect that is faerie fruit. It has no effect on warlocks—no magical effect, at least. But on humans…”

Cordelia pulled her hand back as though stung. “Surely it does not harm you if you do not eat it.”

“Oh, it does not. But I have met those who have tasted it. The say the more you have of it, the more you want, and the more you ache when you can…have no more.”

Cordelia was looking at him now, and though it took a great summoning of courage, he returned her gaze. In her dark eyes the silver and blue flames of the fireplace danced. James could not catch his breath. He had never felt this before, this breathlessness. It was like pain, but with a sweet, sharp edge. Like licking honey from a knife. He said, in a low voice, “And yet. I have always thought…is not knowing what it tastes like just another form of torture? The torture of wondering?”

The door shook on his hinges suddenly, making a clatter that made both he and Cordelia jerk their heads around to look at it. The knob was starting to turn.

Cordelia paled. “We’re not meant to be in here —“

James’s world closed down to just this: Cordelia was here, she was with him, and she looked frightened. He would do anything to stop that look on her face. He caught her in his arms, and the relief was incredible — he had not realized how much he wanted to be touching her until he was. Until he was holding her, and her strength and warmth and softness were all pressed against him, and her face was so beautiful it hurt, and her lips were parted in surprise and without another thought he kissed them.

He could feel her sharp intake of breath with his hands, clasped together at her lower back. She gasped, but did not draw back, or away — he thought he would have died if she had — she leaned into him, her full lips opening under his. She was kissing him back. He tasted honey, smelled jasmine and smoke. His hand slid up her warm cheek and into the soft fall of her hair.

Time stopped.

Cordelia’s arms were around his neck. Her lush mouth opened a little against his, and the kiss deepened. He moved his hand to the back of her neck to bring her closer. Her teeth grazed his lower lip, and he couldn’t help it; he moaned, and felt her tremble against him.

Very far away, a voice chuckled and the door closed with a soft click. This whole thing had been intended as a ruse, he knew, for the benefit of whomever was trying to get into the Whispering Room. Probably some Ruelle attendees, Downworlders most likely, who had snuck off for a rendez-vous.

Ruse accomplished, then. With intense regret, James drew back from Cordelia. Her hand, warm and soft and wonderful, was against his neck; her fingers stroked his pale white scar. Her eyes were fixed at the level of his shoulder. He could hear himself say her name — Daisy, my Daisy — instead of responding, she whispered, “I think more people are coming.”

He knew it wasn’t true. He didn’t care. He knew what she was saying: that she was asking and giving permission at once. All James’ life, he had struggled for control: control over his sudden falls into shadow, control over the dark world he could see, that was invisible to everyone else. He had worked and fought and trained for control every day, and for the first time in as long as he could remember it deserted him.

The walls he had put up burned to the ground in an instant as he caught Cordelia to him. He groaned against her mouth, his hands slipping over the silk of her dress, the hot satin of her skin. He undid the strap that held Cortana, got rid of it somehow — carefully, he hoped — and let himself fall back into delirium.

He did not ask himself why he had never felt desire like this before. He could not. He was lost in the feel of her, the incline of her waist, the flare of her hips, the rise and fall of her chest as she gasped. They were kissing wildly, uncontrolled; they fetched up against the desk, Cordelia’s back to it.

Her body bent backward in an impossible arch, her hands going behind her to brace herself. Her eyes half-closed, her head fell back, revealing the bare column of her throat. He pressed his lips there, eliciting a gasp of surprised pleasure.

His hands trailed up the sleek material of her dress — he could feel the heat of her skin through it — from her waist to the neckline of her gown. His palms followed her curves until the tips of his fingers were pressing into the bare bronze skin just above the neckline of her dress. She was sleek and soft and hot all at the same time, like nothing else he’d ever touched. He heard her whimper; she was saying his name, and his heart beat in time with her words: James, James, Jamie please.

The please undid him; shrugging off his frock coat, he caught hold of her around the waist, lifting her until she was perched on the edge of the desk. The material of her dress bunched around her knees, her thighs, as she took hold of his shirt by the starched front and kissed him. His mouth drove against hers, hot and demanding, even as he clambered onto the desk after her. She reached up her arms for him and he sank down on top of her, bracing his weight with a hand above her head.

He paused, just for a moment, looking down at her. Her scarlet hair fanned out across the desk, her eyes glazed, her full lips red from kissing. He was cradled by her body, her legs on either side of his hips, her skirt rucked up nearly to her waist. She wrapped her long, bare legs around him and he shuddered. What was in him, what he wanted, was inchoate but insistant, a force he’d never known. A yearning like hot wires in his blood, the pain-pleasurable ache of unbearable wanting that drove him to kiss her again, kiss her harder. She tangled her hands in his hair, pulling at it as he kissed her breasts, flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin until she gave a low scream and clutched at him with desperate hands.

He sank down against her and kissed her, hot and deep and hard. She arched into the kiss, her breath coming in gasps. He felt her through the thinner material of his shirt: the heat of her, the swell of her breasts against his chest, her hands smoothing over his chest, his sides.

His hands aching to touch her in kind, to find out what she liked, what made her gasp, and do it again and again . . . Nothing had ever felt like this, nothing. He’d known desire before; so he remembered, so he had believed. It turned out he had stepped into a puddle and thought it was the sea. As Cordelia moved in his arms, as her lips, he realized there was a depth to desire he hadn’t even guessed at: that it was more than just desperation, but joy and need and wanting and being wanted back. It was a fever dream, his hands sliding up under the heavy satin of her skirts, the salt-sweet taste of her skin, the soft sounds of her pleasure as she urged him closer, urged him onward, the desk seeming to spin beneath them.

He heard, as if at a great distance, the sound of the door opening. He lifted his head, saw the slim fair-hared figure in the doorway. Ice washed through his veins. Cordelia stiffened, began to scramble to sit up. No, he thought, but he couldn’t stop her, couldn’t blame her. It — whatever it had been — was over.

He slid off the desk. Already the fever was vanishing, that feeling —the glorious freedom from the burden of his own will — receding. Grasping at his control, he drew it around himself,  reaching for his coat, turning to calmly meet the gaze of his parabatai.

“James?” Matthew said.

#the whispering room #james herondale #cordelia carstairs #the last hours #cassandra clare #cassandra jean #chain of gold

[noforkingclue]

Hi, I love your writing! Could I request a fic where a dark Bucky falls for a nun?

As a lapsed Catholic this speaks to me on so many levels and I couldn't help immediately writing this! Queue Catholic education and background finally coming in use! Who knew if would be for fanfiction?

Title: Forgive Me Sister

Warnings: religious kink, God complex

MCU tag list: @geocookie21

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary

“Forgive me sister for I have sinned.”

You sighed and paused in the middle of lighting the candles around the Church. You looked at the handsome man who was standing just to your left before you turned back to your task.

“I’ve told you before James,” you said, “I cannot hear your confession. If you want to confess something please go to Father Rodgers.”

James, or Bucky as he tried to get you to call him, followed you as you made you way around the Church. You closed your eyes as he heard the last person leave leaving you alone with James. You don’t know why he had such a fascination with you or what you had done to warrant it. You brushed passed him as you moved it sit in a pew. You kneeled down and clasped your hands in prayer.

“It’s been one week since my last confession.”

“James, I’m trying to pray.”

“Don’t you want to save my soul from damnation?”

“Your soul can only be absolved if you’re truly sorry. Even then you have to go to a priest.”

“But I have so much I want to confess. All my dirty little sins I need to get off my chest.”

You rolled your eyes and stood up but a firm hand clasped itself on your shoulder and forced you back down.

“I’m afraid Sister,” James said quietly, “Afraid that I’ve been consumed by lust for a woman I cannot have. But Sister,”

He leant forward and inhaled deeply.

“I wish to possess her. I wish to make her mine in every possible way. To own her body and soul that she has pledged to a being she has never seen. I wonder if she has ever felt the touch of a man before.”

His hands trailed down your arms and squeezed your biceps. You sat froze to the spot as he leant forward. You felt his breath ghost over your ear and whispered,

“Or if she touches herself at night in the loneliness of her room. I wonder if she thinks of me as much as I think of her. I wonder if she knows how much I want to corrupt her innocent little body in front of her precious God. To show her how little he cares about her to allow her to be deflowered and defiled again and again and again.”

“James stop that now!” you said harshly

“What? Do you think it’ll shock your precious Father Rodgers?”

“It isn’t appropriate.”

“Because you’re a nun?”

“For you to say to anyone!”

“So modest,” he licked the shell of your ear, “So pure. I can’t wait until I finally have you.”

You jumped and tried to get away from his but his arms just locked around your waist and pulled you back against the wooden pew.

“I want to take her over the alter,” he continued, “In her place of sanctuary where she thinks she is safe and can remain pure forever. I want to hear her cries to the angels, sweeter and more melodic than any hymn out of her mouth. For my sweet little nun to get on her knees and worship me as her God.”

“That’ll never happen.” You said through gritted teeth

“Really? Have you already lost the craving for the touch of another human? The comforting, loving embrace of another being? To be loved, held and fucked by someone in the flesh and in front of you. Who would give anything, anything, for a taste for those beautiful lips? Who wants nothing more than to take you away from this self-prescribed prison and into a comforting home?”

“This is my home.”

“It’s a cell.”

“And where would you take me? From this so called cell and into a gilded cage? I’m not going with you.”

“You might not have a choice.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you really think the Mother Superior will keep you on if you’re pregnant? Kicked out, alone, with my child, do you really think I’ll let you suffer?”

You shuddered as is words, at his threat. You heard James laugh behind you and press a kiss against the side of your neck.

“So, Sister,” he said, “What’s my penance? Two Hail Mary’s and one Our Father?”

“What you need to do is leave this place and never return.”

You stood up and shook out of his grasp. You turned and glared at him, breathing deeply while James looked up at you in amusement.

“And seek professional help.”

“My sweet little nun,” he stood up and leaned forward, “You’ll never get rid of me.”

He cupped your cheeks and pressed a rough kiss against your lips. Immediately you jumped free and wiped your lips, avoiding James’s smirk.

“I’ll be seeing you around Sister Y/n. I’ll be seeing you very, very soon.”

He gave you a wink before walking away whistling a hymn. Once he had left the Church you collapsed back onto the pew, hand over your lips. You needed to get away and the sooner the better.

#fanfiction #mcu #reader insert #request #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark

[whump-a-la-mode]

Gilded Cage - Part 2

Thanks so much to everyone who read and voted on part 1! The votes were very close. In the end, option A won out, with 6 votes, while option B received 4 votes. That means that Villain will tell Journalist the truth.

I received a number of amazing suggestions for this part, based on the questions from last time around. I would like to publish their names to credit them, but I am currently waiting to see if they would like this or not. I’ll edit this post if they give me permission to publish their names.

Edit: @jenny-ruths-writing-blog has given me permission to credit them for their ideas. I would appreciate it a lot if you would give them some love, they’re just starting out.

I hope you enjoy!

CW// Imprisonment, collars, shock collars, villain whumpee, implied torture, depiction of a panic attack, scopophobia, mentions of death, mentions of hostage taking

Villain didn’t notice when they fell.

They weren’t even sure that they fell at all. One second, they were on their feet, face stretched into a smile. The next, their knees grew weak, and they were on the ground, a pain growing in the back of their head as though it had been struck.

Their vision blurred as they felt their breathing speed up, paradoxically increasing to such a point that they were no longer taking in sufficient oxygen. They couldn’t feel their hands, or their legs, or... Oh god oh god oh god, where were they? Why couldn’t they breathe?

It was hard to be sure whether the pressure on their shoulders was real, or just another hallucination of an oxygen-starved mind. As the other pains softened into the background, however, that pressure stayed.

There was a noise... where was it coming from?

Was it a voice? Or music? Or just a far away hum of the fluorescent lights? Slowly, slowly, it began to fade closer and closer to reality.

“Hey, hey, oh god, please don’t tell me you’re having a heart attack or something. God dammit, you hit your head, can you hear me?”

The words blended together into a mix of slurring syllables, all spoken with a tone of nerves and concern.

Concern.

They had almost forgotten what that sounded like.

“Please, please say something. You’re not dead, right? That’s not how death works, right? Come on, come on.”

The pressure on their shoulders tensed and loosened in rapid succession, managing to somewhat revive their consciousness. Breaths rapid and shivering, they opened their eyes. Though it took a few seconds for their vision to clear, they still jumped at the face only a few inches from their own.

“Hey, hey. Are you awake? I see you- Your eyes, come on. Are you okay? Please, please be okay.”

Villain’s thoughts swam in their head a moment, a plastic ball drifting about in a fishtank. Their training returned to them faster than their senses, and their empty expression suddenly sprung to one of politely metered cheer.

“I’m just fine, Journalist. I apologize. I must have fallen.”

They shook their head, shaking off as much of the panic as they could. The words had come out on instinct, not out of thought, and Journalist seemed to have noticed.

“You... You fainted. I think? You don’t have a fever, do you?”

One of the hands on their shoulders moved to their forehead, flinching away a moment later.

“You’re cold. Um... is that bad? That’s like, the opposite of a fever, right?”

“‘m okay...” Villain muttered, remembering where their half-numb hands were and using them to right themself into a sitting position on the tiled bathroom floor.

“What happened?”

“It’s... I’m fine.” The words came out dully. It was hard to feel sorrow when feeling emotion at all was nearly impossible.

“Is it this thing?” Again, the hand moved, this time to their neck. A shiver ran up Villain’s spine as fingers ran along the scarred flesh beneath their collar.

They should have been used to being touched, even when in such a state, but for some reason, it was just making them feel worse.

“Please. It’s okay.” They protested. They just wanted to go back to sleep. “Don’t worry yourself.”

“No. No.” Journalist, who seemed to have formerly been in a kneeling position, shifted their legs so that they were sitting criss-cross before Villain. Their breathing slowed, panic turning to concern on their countenance. “If you’re sick, or hurt, or something, I can’t let you go out there and do that interview. It’ll just make you feel worse.”

“I’m not hurt! Or sick.” Their protests grew in volume and intensity as they fought to get to their feet. Their attempts were, however, thwarted, as the feeling in their legs had yet to fully return just yet. “Please. Just drop it.”

Journalist frowned.

“Villain. Tell me what’s going on. Please. We- I can get you to a doctor? We have a van just outside... Fainting out of nowhere isn’t normal.”

Villain blinked a few times, lips ajar. They didn’t know what to do. There was no script for this. They could do ‘how are you,’ they had the response for that well memorized, but ‘are you okay’ ? They didn’t know that one. They’d never been taught that one.

They...

Villain wanted so badly to lie. To smile, perhaps say that they slipped, or that they were narcoleptic, or something. Anything that would get them out of here and back on script.

But...

When would anyone ever ask them again? Ask them what was wrong? Offer to help? With their luck, it would almost certainly be never.

Almost unconsciously, they wrapped their arms around their chest. A comforting hug. The kind that no one had offered them in so long.

“The...” They raised their hand to their neck, curling a finger as far under the metal ring as it would go. “The collar. It’s a collar.”

“A... collar?”

The smile that crept onto their lips was one of sorrow. A sadness so profound that it became funny.

“What did they tell you?” Their self-hug grew tighter.

“What do you mean?”

“About me. How did big, bad villain go from terrorizing the city to, fucking, making television appearances? What was their story?”

“They- I guess they just said you’d seen the error of your ways. That you were a good guy, now.”

That sorrowful smile grew wider.

“I just chose to be good? Is that it?”

“Well, they said they talked to you, there was something about therapy?”

Villain’s smile turned to an audacious laugh.

“Therapy?” They shook their head. “Is that their code word for beating someone into submission?”

“W- What?”

Villain tapped the collar, a hollow noise ringing out.

“Shock collar. 100,000 volts, or something stupid like that. They didn’t fix me. I’m not a good guy. I’m still just as dangerous as I ever was. But now I’m... under control.”

At that, they hung their head.

More gently this time, Journalist again raised their hand to Villain’s neck, placing their finger under the collar. Feeling the burnt flesh.

“You’ve been here- You’ve been in their custody for months.”

“How could I forget?”

“You just... gave up?”

Those words alone were enough to send a pang of nausea through their chest.

“What choice did I have? Anything to make the pain stop. Heroes and Villains... all of them, they’re just as human as anyone else. They feel pain just as much as anyone else. And sometimes, that pain just gets to be too much. Fighting back just isn’t worth it anymore.”

They raised their head, forcing a rehearsed smile back onto their lips.

“But it’s okay. It’s the best way to keep the city safe. Sometimes you have to break a few eggs.”

Journalist’s concern turned to frustration, but whatever words they were about to say were halted by the sound of knocking on the bathroom door.

“Journalist? Are you in there?”

“Yeah.”

“We’re live in ten. We need Villain on the set.”

Their head turned back to Villain, who nodded.

“Okay. We’ll be right out.”

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“Turn your head a little to the right... Raise the chin, little more- Keep going, there! Okay, stop. And look at the camera. Right here, this lens. Sasha, can you go touch up their hair, please?”

Villain struggled not to flinch away from the blindingly bright lights that stared at them in a semi-circle. They sat on a small stool, hands perfectly held together in their lap. Their neck was already cramping from the position they were fighting so hard to maintain.

Stage lights always made the burns on their neck hurt. Hurt worse, that is.

From the bustling area behind the cameras, an assistant appeared, rushing over to Villain and yanking a small, black comb through their already-done hair.

It took all the will they had, and a little more than that, to choke back the tears that desperately wanted to rise in their throat. To scream and shove the stupid, clueless assistant to the ground. So they would stop fucking touching them.

But they didn’t. They sat perfectly still, cheeks aching from their smile.

“We’re live in one!” A screeching voice came from somewhere Villain could not see. The assistant retreated, and the cameraman started up the device that was his namesake.

It was difficult to see behind the blaring lights, but silhouettes that may have been people seemed to be rushing about in a panic, taking position. That shrill voice began to count.

“Thirty...”

“Twenty...”

“Ten...”

‘And we’re live!”

A red light appeared on the camera, and Villain tried not to imagine just how many eyes were on the other side of it. For a terrifying few seconds, they were there, alone, before the world. That was, until footsteps sounded, and someone sat in the chair next to them.

They didn’t dare look. Didn’t dare to turn their head away from the camera, to muss their perfect posture and hair.

“Welcome, everyone, to News at Nine!”

A single bead of sweat formed on their forehead.

They had assumed that Journalist was simply one of the many busybodies that the news crew dragged around with them. Not the reporter.

They could only hope that their gulp couldn’t be seen in the recording.

“As promised, tonight, we have a very special guest. Villain, it’s so good to have you here, tonight.”

“It’s great to be here.”

“Yes. Now, I really wish we could spend some time on niceties, but we have promised our wonderful viewers at home a very special interview, and we wouldn’t want to disappoint, now would we?”

“Of course not.”

“Now, Villain, I’m sure everyone remembers you in your, well, in your villain days. Would you care to explain where you have been since then?”

An expected question. They had a script for this. It flowed from their mouth like water.

“Well, after my capture several months ago, I have been working with and learning from the Heroes of this city. I understand that what I did in my previous occupation was wrong, and since then, I have been working to right the wrongs I have caused. Now, I am an advisor for the Heroes’ Organization. They say to catch a villain, you need to think like one, and, well, I have plenty experience in that field.”

They didn’t take a breath, not the whole time. When they did, after finishing their monologue, it sounded far too much like a sob.

The script was bullshit. They weren’t any kind of advisor. It was a fancy word for prisoner. ‘Advisor’ would imply that they weren’t locked up for 20 or so hours a day, when they weren’t eating or appearing before the cameras. They couldn’t advise the Heroes on anything if they tried. Their very voice was treated as though it was the funniest joke anyone had ever heard.

“And it is your position as an advisor that has led to the events of last night. Is that right?”

“I would say that it played no small part in it, yes.”

What the fuck happened last night?

“That event is what I want to speak to you about today. Our viewers have been very keen to know your thoughts on the matter, so let’s get right into it.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“So, Villain.” Journalist seemed to let their chipper attitude fall in favor of a more relaxed one. “How did you feel, exactly, when you first heard about Supervillain’s death?”

They wanted to throw up.

The Heroes did not allow them access to any outside news, but could they at the very least have said something? Anything?

Anything?

Keep to the script. Keep to the script. Keep to the script.

But they didn’t have one.

They swallowed.

“Um... I- I felt... Uh...”

The collar felt to be tightening around their windpipe.

“It’s okay. Do you need a moment?”

“No, no. I apologize.” Villain shook their head. “It’s just so shocking, to hear it said so plainly, like that. When I first heard the news, I have to say, I felt... conflicted. Certainly, it’s a good thing. But at the same time, I worry about what their absence will mean for the other villains in this city.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I suppose I’m afraid of a power vacuum forming. Or that the other villains will attempt to act out in vengeance, of a sort.”

“That’s understandable. Did you know Supervillain personally, at all?”

Of course they did. Everyone did. Every villain, at least. Their organization was informal, but entirely centered on Supervillain. If a villain was seriously hurt, or worse, Supervillain was there for them.

Some called them mother.

“I wouldn’t say I knew them personally. I met them, a few times, but they were always very distant. Not to mention that they were a bit terrifying.”

Behind the camera, Villain spotted a form appear. One of a very familiar stature, and wearing a very familiar cape.

“I’m sure they were. I’ve never met them in person, but even just on TV... that’s scary in its own right.”

No. It wasn’t. Supervillain wouldn’t hurt a fly. Not unless they were acting in self defense. Hell, they made sure their hostages all got lunch, for gods sake.

Villain nodded.

“It is scary.”

“On that note, do you believe that the city will be safer, now, with Supervillain gone?”

Two more figures. Two more capes.

“I do. Even with the possibility of a power vacuum or avenging attacks, ultimately, this will be a good thing for our city. Anything to keep those at home safe.”

“Of course.” Journalist paused a moment. “I understand that some villains have already made announcements decrying the actions of Hero. Do you believe that they were right in their decision to kill Supervillain?”

Villain gulped.

Behind the camera, Hero joined their comrades. Their gaze pointed directly at their prey, sitting beneath the blazing stage lights.

“No. I don’t believe that Hero was right.”

The words made their mouth feel numb.

“Supervillain was dangerous, yes. But there is a difference between stopping someone from causing harm and ending their life outright. Had it been me, I wouldn’t have committed a murder.”

The cameraman raised his eyebrows.

Even in silhouette, Villain could see Hero clench their fists.

“That’s a very interesting take on the matter, and that seems to be the stance that many others, villain and citizen alike, have been taking. I believe that’s all the questions I have for you, today.”

Journalist’s gaze turned to the camera.

“After a word from our sponsors, the weather! It’s gonna be a scorcher this week, folks. And don’t forget to stick around for the reveal of the new fashion line: Be Your Own Hero. Thanks, everyone!”

The little red light on the camera blinked off. Villain felt about to puke.

Finally, finally, they felt able to move their neck. The cramps were bad enough that doing so hurt terribly, filling their muscles with pins and needles. They stood as the stage lights flicked off, one by one.

Revealing, in full detail, the Heroes.

Most of them looked various degrees of concerned or frustrated. That was, all except Hero themself. Their face was twisted in a horrid mask of pure, unadulterated fury.

Villain felt their legs lock up, as if staying on set would protect them. Already they couldn’t breathe. They wanted to gasp for air, but the collar was crushing them, choking them, and they wanted to cry. Oh god, the tears were already beading in their eyes. They swallowed them, but more threatened to well up, to take their place.

A pressure on their shoulder nearly made them jump. Only their eyes would move, all else locked up, but they could see well enough to locate what was touching them.

Journalist.

Their face a mask of concern. Panic, concern, and worry.

They dropped their hand, stepping back as Hero practically stomped over to Villain. Their face had turned to the brightest smile, but that did nothing to diminish the rage in their eyes.

“Villain, good job on the interview. That must have been a difficult one.”

“A little difficult, yeah.”

“Well, good on you for getting through it. If you wouldn’t mind, let’s go back to my office for a minute. Just to have a little chat.”

Villain paled.

They knew full well that Hero didn’t have an office. What they did have was a sound proofed room with a very specific purpose.

That pressure on Villain’s shoulder returned. Journalist’s hand.

“Well? Are you coming, or not?”

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What should our Whumpee do? It’s up to you to decide!

There are two options, each one leading to a separate story branch. Alongside each option is a question specifying what exactly will happen. Answering this question is completely optional, but it is great if you have any particular ideas! Otherwise, feel free to just put a letter.

To vote, feel free to use any means you would like to contact me. Replying or reblogging this post works just fine, as does PMing me directly or sending me an ask. I am unsure when I will be writing the next part, so as long as the next part hasn’t been posted yet, voting is still open!

I will choose the story path based on which option has more votes, and will choose whichever answer I find the most interesting to base the next part upon.

The choices and questions for this part are as follows:

A) Go with Hero - What should Journalist do?

B) Refuse - How should Villain try to get out of it?

If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to contact me. This is my first time doing anything like this, so I apologize if it’s odd or confusing ^^

#whump #whumpee #whumpblr #choose your own adventure #choose your own whump #gilded cage #villain whumpee #whump community #hero villain whump #hero villain prompt #whump prompt

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

No strings attached (G.D./E.D.)

Summary: When his brother gets married, Grayson is there for his best friend who happens to be Ethan’s ex and the one who got away. However, when she suggests they start a no strings attached relationship with the sole purpose of having a baby together, Grayson is quick to accept for he had loved her his whole life and maybe...just maybe, she loves him too. And while she struggles to move on, remembering the twin who had broken her heart, Ethan complicates everything when he admits he still has feelings for her.

Warnings: angst, fluff, SMUT (unprotected sex), cheating, alcohol, swearing..

Word count: 18k+

"You came." It didn't feel like a statement, more like a gasp that passed his lips in a moment of weakness because seeing her had rattled his self-made gilded cage.

"Grayson insisted." Y/N forced a polite smile, but she couldn't fool Ethan. Not when he had taught her how to fake a smile because she was always too honest and wore her heart on her sleeve. She was too pure to be able to deceive people, so he showed her how and he never expected he'd be hit with a fake smile from her heavenly lips he loved to kiss.

"Oh." It's more of a sigh, a heaviness that pushes down on his chest and makes it harder for him to breathe. It’s been about ten years since they were truly alone and he never thought the next time they would find themselves alone would be in a barn right after he vowed to spend his life with another.

"Is there a reason you wanted to talk to me or are you here just to stare?" Her sharp tongue had caught him by surprise, but he didn't mean her harm, surely she knew that? He simply couldn't help himself once he saw her leave in need of solitude, his own need to speak to her too dire to resist the temptation.

"I'm not sure. I just...when I saw you, I felt my heart stop and everything I didn't want to remember came rushing back. I felt like I'm twenty again, standing in front of you with my heart in my hand and you breaking it all over again." The last thing he wanted was to start an argument, especially not one that's ten years old and something he should have left in the past. His conviction of that is confirmed when her impassive face slowly changes from disbelief, to frustration, to rage.

"I broke your heart?!" Control she tried to hold onto had dispersed as his words reopened wounds she tried hard to close for a decade and failed inevitably.

How can one move on from a man she considered to be the one? No one compares, even now as he's pushing her buttons on a day she felt herself shatter. Even when he had chosen another over her, time and time again, he couldn't let her go. He either loved her too much or not enough.

"You're so full of shit, Ethan. Always were." With a shake of her head, she couldn't do it. She couldn't stand there and rehash the painful past he had left her burdened with. She came for closure, not to be reminded of the cruel nature of their lover's death.

"Me? I'm full of shit?! I stood there, making an eternal vow to someone I always thought would be you, but it never happened! Kristina isn't you!" Shouting at her as she tries to pass him by and get as far away as possible, Ethan grabbed her wrist on instinct and pulled her back to face him. When he did that in the past, she'd always smile and kiss him, tell him all she ever wanted was to know he cares enough to fight for her and their argument would be over, but not this time. There was no room for forgiveness in her eyes and her hate for him was brighter than the fire she held for him before.

“Be honest. We could have worked out.” Her eyes narrow at him when his words grip her heart and mind, pulling her back to a time when she was such a fool for him. From the moment he first kissed her, she was slowly losing herself in him.

"And I'm to blame?" She scoffed, ripping her hand out of his hold with a scowl on her face. Rubbing her wrist to soothe the ache that couldn't compare to the real pain he's caused her, she draws in a short breath.

"You left to Australia to figure things out and disappeared for a month! You brought a girl with you halfway across the world, quarantined together! You started dating her before ever telling me we were finished and then I was expected to be your friend? Fuck that and fuck you." The darkness in her voice is easy to imagine festering inside her for years, yet Ethan never realized she saw it like that.

He could see the pain written in her teary eyes, on her slightly wrinkled forehead and in her trembling lips. He could see the anguish he caused her and yet he found himself torn to pieces by all the plans for the future he had for them that never came true. Years have gone by and somehow, by a cruel twist of fate, she had grown into an enchanting, gorgeous woman and he still had a weakness for her.

"I was at the airport, naive enough to think the online chatter were baseless rumors, but I saw you kiss her." Swallowing thickly, Y/N found it hard to breathe. "And I guess it was fate for you...after all, you did marry her today." She shrugs, wiping a tear before it even started its path down her cheek, likely her last stubborn act to protect her pride and flawless makeup.

"I wish I didn't. I...thought you'd call, or come. I left you a ticket to come for my birthday and you never did. I just thought you were done with me. I thought our time apart had turned into a break and she was there...she was good to me.” Running a hand through his hair, Ethan could hardly breathe with the way she looked at him, her presence is just as intoxicating now as it was back then.

“Why didn't you tell me? If you told me you cared, I'd have left her in a heartbeat, even today. Even now." Ethan sighs, leaning closer to the woman he should have fought for, the woman of his dreams and the one he had told his father was his soulmate. Perhaps it's his stubbornness or his pride that blinded him to her feelings that persisted for so long, but no matter what it was, he had no excuse. He should have fought for her.

"How convenient for you." But she wasn't forgiving now as she usually is and she had no more heart left to give this man who had gambled her trust away. Not after the damage he had caused and left her alone to deal with the rubble.

"Go back to your lovely wife, Ethan. She deserves a faithful husband." With a slight push of her palms against his chest, Y/N had done what she should have done long ago - she let Ethan go and finally, for the first time in forever, she could breathe fresh air again.

Her head hurt and the old scars burned, but as she walked away, her soul was made anew - light and open to new beginnings, something she avoided. She had pushed away every man that got too close, afraid to be hurt again. Now, she found herself ready to try again.

"Tired?" Grayson raised an eyebrow as he took one good look at her glistening eyes and realized how draining the day must have been for her. Every time he asked, he'd get the generic "I'm fine" answer and a smile he could see through, but he let her pretend if it meant she'd get through the day alive. He saw her wither, mourn for his brother for years and it pained him too much for it to be healthy, but he felt her pain personally.

"Exhausted." She mustered a real smile for her best friend, opening her arms wide to give him the biggest hug just for being him. She might have lost Grayson for a while when Ethan first broke her heart and it was mostly because she needed time to heal but they quickly found their way back to each other and despite them moving away in different parts of the country, the pair stayed in contact and always made sure to meet every few months if their lives took them away for longer periods of time.

"But I'm glad I came. It felt good to let the old grudges go." She tightens her hold on Grayson, her hands resting on his strong back as his muscles relax under her fingertips and she can only smile in content. She never felt as warm or safe like she did in his arms. He's always been the man that made her smile, even when she was going through hell. Happy or sad, angry or stressed, he was there to lighten the mood and she always appreciated him for it.

"Wanna have a movie night and get a bit drunk?" Grayson suggests, more than aware of her sudden burst of giggles at the thought of him drinking alcohol.

"You don't drink." She reminds him, continuing to chuckle, covering her mouth with her right hand, something Grayson hated. He always thought she had the most beautiful smile and yet, at some point, Y/N felt deeply insecure about it and it drove him mad because it deprived him of the most mesmerizing view.

"I'll drink a few with you. I'll even let you throw popcorn at every cheesy romance scene on TV." With a small smirk, Grayson pulled her closer to him, stealing a second hug for his soul, but to reassure her as well.

"Let's go." She mumbled into his shirt before separating, allowing Grayson to open her door as he always insisted. She appreciated the gesture more than he knew. Grayson is a perfect gentleman and she couldn’t help but question why he’s been single for so long. In fact, he never had a real relationship since they met.

Driving away to Y/N's hotel room, just to make sure no one comes looking for them at the Dolan house, the pair were unaware of wandering eyes of a drunk, desperate groom who felt his rage swell inside his chest with every beat of his bleeding heart.

**

They drove in silence, music filling the air to prevent any awkwardness although they never had those moments...unless the time Grayson walked in on a naked Y/N in the shower back when they first met at eighteen counts. Aside from a bruise he got from running into a wall instead of the door as he apologized profusely, Grayson found it hard to look at her at all without being flooded with inappropriate thoughts.

"Make yourself comfortable." She tells him the moment she walks into her hotel room, dropping her bag by the door, throwing her heels off within the next two steps. Her heels remained tossed close to the door, like a hazard Grayson was sure would make him sorry he didn't put them in the place neatly for her, but the moment he saw her unzip her dress and it fell to the floor around her sore feet, his brain no longer functioned properly.

With a single move of her fingers, she unhooked her bra as well, throwing it behind her with a loud exhale of relief and while she told Grayson to get comfortable, he could hardly move. Hell, he could hardly breathe as his heart picked up speed and his dick soon felt the accelerated blood flow as it twitched in his pants, aching for release.

She was quick to put on a loose shirt, leaving her with an almost covered ass and those curvy legs of hers available to his curious, hungry gaze that couldn’t ignore the lacy green panties she had on.

"I have a bottle of wine I wanted to gift the newlyweds, but fuck them. They're getting married and starting their life, they don't need quality wine! We do!" Rambling, she grabbed a few glasses that clinked as she carried them, placing them on the table before settling on the couch, only then noticing a very stiff looking Grayson who still stood by the door.

"Are you okay?" She tilts her head to the right with the slightest inkling of worry in her eyes, looking him over for signs he may need help - top to bottom, only to pause in the middle as his problem became evident.

Swallowing thickly, she bites her bottom lip as Grayson rubs the back of his neck nervously, ashamed of his current situation but she only chuckles, rolling her eyes.

"I'll take it as a compliment, now get out of those uncomfortable clothes and drink with me." She orders, opening the bottle with a slight pop before she pours herself a full glass and half a glass to her best friend. Better to pace him than have him drunk within an hour.

"If you're not here in a minute, I'll rip those clothes off you myself." Fixing her eyes on his situation once more, she raises a brow with her very own curiosity playing games with her mind. "With my teeth." She adds coyly, watching Grayson squirm, unable to ignore the red tint in his cheeks.

Quickly, Grayson takes her advice...or better yet, order, getting into nothing but his boxers, stumbling over her hazardously tossed shoes before sitting next to her.

"I don't have anything else to wear." He groans, too aware of his hard on being distinctly impossible to hide now, even as he placed both hands over it.

"I'll crank up the heat so you’re not cold. It's fine. We're friends. If you want to cover up, you can use the blanket, but I promise you I'm not insulted or anything. If I'm anything, it's horny and that won't be happening, so..." Trailing off, she shrugs with disappointment in her small smile and for the first time in forever, Grayson saw an opening. It's something he had held back on, but he didn't have it in him to keep denying himself the woman he had desired for so long he no longer found anyone else worthy of his time for more than one night.

Stature of limitations can't possibly be effective after one party is married, right? Besides, Ethan had simply gotten to her first when in fact, it was Grayson she first met.

"I wouldn't take that watch. It's a knockoff." Grayson couldn't help himself. Not only was the person in question drop dead gorgeous, she also picked up a watch he made a mistake on a year ago and it was a rather hefty check he gambled in the process.

"I'm aware. But thank you." She didn't look back, tired of men and their mansplaining, and definitely tired of men flirting. She wasn't exactly popular with guys she likes, but for some unknown reason, guys she didn't like had a tendency to be very persistent in winning her affections.

"So why buy it then?" However, Grayson was never one to give up and he had no intention of letting this woman go without asking her name first.

"Because my budget allows for a counterfeit, nothing more and I still want it to look fancy." At this point, Grayson knew he was the last person this girl wanted to talk to, but as he opens his mouth to apologize, she turns to him with grace he believed to be magical and her eyes met his.

As cliché it may be, Grayson thought time stopped...even if he was standing in the middle of a shop filled with clocks that could easily prove him wrong but he never felt it before - can a heart literally skip a beat when you meet the person you're meant to be with?

"What if I can give you a fancy, original watch and all you'd have to do is make me a dinner?"

Looking back, he saw how that might have made her feel like he's giving her an immoral offer, but at the time, she was desperate and he was handsome as hell. She saw it as a win and agreed with the widest, most beautiful smile - the first time he ever saw her smile and a sight she didn't cover up back then.

Little did he know Ethan would end up being there as well, crashing their date and soon enough, stealing her right under his nose.

So yes, maybe he didn't give a shit if Ethan is okay with it, this was finally his time to shine. If it's not too late considering she seems to be in love with Ethan even now after he betrayed her over and over again.

"Can you believe Ethan got married before us?" Already tipsy, Y/N chuckles in disbelief, leaning closer to Grayson as she holds her second glass of wine close to her chest. She wasn't much of a drinker either, but she needed some alcohol to get through the night.

"I mean, I always thought it would be you. He used to tell me he isn't fond of the idea of marriage but when we have kids and all that he'd be okay with us getting married." Taking a big chug, she nearly chokes on the wine, coughing as Grayson pats her back lightly. He used to think he’d be the first to get married too, but he gave up on the notion.

"Remember when we made that deal?" It suddenly dawned on her as Grayson reminded her of something she buried in the furthest parts of her mind.

"Before you and Ethan got together, we were sitting on the roof, watching the stars?" Grayson continues and she hums, acknowledging him.

"I said I'd marry you if we were thirty and single." She didn't expect the smile that appeared on her lips nor the honest emotion that took over. They were only eighteen when they made the deal after she and Ethan got into an argument about him buying her expensive gifts she had never asked for before they were even dating officially.

"We're almost thirty now." Stating, she turned completely to Grayson, her eyes taking in his naked torso before continuing.

"We don't have to get married or anything, but don't you want kids?"

Rubbing his forehead, Grayson couldn't help but feel he's too sober for this conversation.

Does he want kids? More than anything!

Did he think he'd be nearly thirty and alone? Never.

"Yes. I know where you're going with this and no. You're drunk, you're not thinking soundly so we can't go down that road." Grayson sighs, moving back to give her some space and create a little distance between them, but she quickly grabs his hand and holds him in place.

"I had two glasses of wine, don't be so dramatic.” Rolling her eyes at him before her face falls, Y/N sighs.

“Grayson, I can feel my biological clock ticking and my womb is crying for a baby to carry. I want this and I honestly can't imagine anyone I'd rather do it with than you. You are daddy material. I've always loved that about you." Taking his hand in hers, she inched closer with a slight smile pushing onto her face.

"We are best friends. We can't just have a baby and act nothing happened. IVF would be brutal anyway." Grayson is trying his best to be the voice of reason. He had a sip of wine, but not nearly enough to ignore that she might be doing this because she can't watch Ethan move on with his life in a very definite way and be happy for him.

Is he supposed to be her distraction from the pain?

"Who said anything about IVF? We could have sex, right here, right now. Repeat it a few times to be sure over the next week and that's all. After that, no sex or romantic feelings. We'd be co-parenting, and if we meet someone else along the way, we'll figure it out as we go."

And maybe he's had more than a sip, perhaps even a whole bottle if he's seriously considering her offer, but then again, he's drunk off her. He's in love with her and he has been for ten years and she's giving him a chance to have her, even if it's for a week, and a chance to be in her life for as long as they both live. Perhaps it's nothing compared to what he wished for, but it's undeniably everything in this particular moment where her bare thigh is rubbing against his and her palm is set on his arm, her eyes boring into his soul as her plump lips quiver with desire.

She's looking at him like she wants to do more than just make a baby - she's looking at him like a man she's passionately interested in and it's a look he's waited a lifetime to see in her eyes.

So, despite all reason and better judgement, Grayson smiles before pulling her onto his lap. "I'm in."

Resting her forehead on his, she draws in a shaky breath. "No strings attached?"

Reluctantly, he confirms. "No strings attached."

Little did they know they would be tangled in all the strings the moment their lips touch.

That first taste of his lips made her heart shiver, her hands shaky as his fill up with her ass, feeling him squeeze as his tongue swipes her bottom lip. Wasting no time, she grants him access, pushing down on his lap until his hard-on pressed against her inner thigh and she can't help the moan that passes her lips nor the brazen curiosity her hands indulge in. Her palms travel down his chest, her left one remaining on his neck as the right one continues on its journey to his hardened member, drawing in a deep breath as his hands move up to the small of her back, warm against her skin.

"So warm." She managed to mumble against his lips, her hand finally reaching his aching bulge, hastily palming him until he breaks their kiss, groaning with unrestrained desire and his control wavers.

"A-are you sure? We still have time to stop and just watch a movie." No matter how it pained him, Grayson couldn't go through with it without making sure she's not going to regret it. He didn't want to be the guy that used her in a vulnerable state and he never wanted to taint the friendship they had before he tasted her lips for the first time in his life. And just one taste of her was enough to mark him hers. He couldn't get enough.

Pausing, she cups his cheeks and bores her eyes in his, the clock ticking in the background only sound beside their strained breaths filling the silence. She couldn't believe he doubted her, although she understood why he's apprehensive.

For a moment, Y/N worried he may find her unattractive, or someone already tarnished due to her relationship with his brother and yet, when she looked into his chocolate brown eyes, Y/N only saw concern for her. He cares enough to handle blue balls if she's in any way doubtful of their unexpected actions. But then again, somehow, Y/N found it as anything but unexpected.

"Never been as sure as I am now."

Reconnecting their lips again, she found herself immersed in him, fully lost and consumed by no one but Grayson Dolan. His hands on her body, his tongue locked in an intense, fiery tango with hers, his penis already visible through his briefs and her own unquenchable desire and longing taking over as she pulls her shirt up, breaking the kiss long enough to pull it off her head and reveal her breasts - nipples hard and ready just as she is.

If there's anything she's sure of is that all her sense of self disappeared when his mouth captured her left breast, his hands slipping past her waistband, flicking her clit as soft moans betray her pleasurable need for him.

"I can't", she shuddered, breathing hard as his open mouthed kisses left a burning trail on her collarbone and she knew she was done for.

"Please, Gray." She struggled to keep herself sane as his fingers picked up speed and a scream erupted from deep inside her chest and he smirked against her neck. Sensitive, needy and ready to comply, she leaned her head on his shoulder while he worked his magic.

"Tell me. Tell me what you want." He teased her, slowly building her up to her first orgasm and he wanted her shaking and wet when he starts having his way with her. She would surely need it.

"You. I. I want you. Inside me. Take me, please." She pleaded, her eyes closed as he picks her up and moves toward the bed, her legs wrapped around him as she rubs herself against him for friction though he didn't stop his hands from making her moan. Try as she might, she couldn't hold them back.

Placing her on the mattress, he smirked before lowering his head to her thighs, gripping her lacy green panties with his teeth before ripping them in a single move. He craved to see them, but the satisfaction he got from tearing them off her was unparalleled.

"What?!" She didn't get to scold him for his lips have found their way onto her sensitive nerve bundle, sucking as his fingers delved inside where she needed him the most. Her hands weaved in his hair, pulling at the stray locks with quivering in her lower abdomen as her breathing became short, coming in gasps of pure ecstasy and her thighs trembled as Grayson's hands gripped her hips and kept her in place when she tried to move away. She pulled at his hair a little too hard, but Grayson didn't mind - loss of control means she's lost in the feelings he had provided her with, only fueling his unbelievable thirst for her solicited moans he only ever heard in his dreams or something close to them whenever she ate something she really liked.

He's relentless, unforgiving and a generous lover and while her mind is forming incoherent thoughts about all the unforgettable ways his tongue moves, all she can say is his name - fervently, unapologetically screaming his name as her orgasm makes her lose all control and instead of simply enjoying the entrancing beauty of the moment his name falls from her lips and her body shakes in his arms, Grayson frees his dick at last, nearly crying out once he pushes himself inside, catching the last wave of her clenching walls, enjoying how firmly her hands grip his arms as he slowly fills her up.

"You're so beautiful." He whispers in her ear as he pauses for her to adjust, slowly inching his way inside her until she's all full and even she can tell it will be a hot minute before he bottoms out.

“So, so perfect.”

Her mind is a little clearer, too aware of his wet lips at her jaw, littering her with kisses as his body weight presses her further into the mattress. She's hooking her leg around his waist, aiding him in his effort to bring her to a new orgasm once again, the new one hopefully fruitful for them both. Her arms fold around him, bringing him closer until his chest falls on hers, no room left between them - their hearts wildly beating fast, allowing them to feel every beat as Grayson lift his head up and their eyes meet again.

Sliding further inside, her mouth falls open as a sigh leaves her involuntarily, making him smirk vainly and the smugness in his eyes only made him more appealing.

It was impossible to ignore how intimate the moment is, how neither of them want to part. Had it been a simple 'let's have a baby' deal, it would have been all business, in and out in minutes, but this was all pleasure and they both knew it. And this was a first for both of them in a sense – their first time without condoms, feeling their partner without any barriers.

"Are you in?" She couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, the liquid courage gone as he holds her in his embrace - bare in every sense of the word, but she trusts him with all her heart.

"Not yet." Grayson chuckles when her eyes widen at his statement, aware she's thinking about how big he is and how she's probably worried he wouldn't fit but as he adjusts and slides in further, finally bottomed out, he smirks when she gasp at the slight thrust. Pecking the left corner of her lips, their noses brush together as he whispers.

"Now I am." That's when he's moving, leisurely with confidence, building her back up only to stop and make her whimper and he couldn't help but feel proud he's managed to get her to ask for more...to ask for him.

"Gosh, you're such a tease!" She exclaimed, half out of her mind as her hands grip his ass to control his speed and depth and still, he's unmovable, cocky and yet too afraid of losing the reigns of himself. He can't act anymore, no pretense left.

This night has been everything he wanted for so long that he can't even hide it. It's in his eyes, on his lips, in the gentle touch of his fingertips on her skin and the strength of his arms around her, but the way he's taking his time and making every moment count for her? It's proof enough that this is more than a casual fuck.

"What's so wrong in never wanting this to end?"

But she can't hide it either, his words had undone the last of her restraints. He can see it in the way she pushes his matted hair back from his face to better look into his warm, loving eyes, in her genuine smiles, the way she pulls him close and won't let up or the way she says his name as if it's her favorite word.

Y/N realized she would never quite be able to forget the way he makes her feel after years of pushing down feelings she told herself are forbidden - that she had loved him first, before Ethan, before anyone else - terrified to remember, forbidden to forget.

She did it for Ethan, but now? She had no reason to hide.

And as the moment passed, urgency took over and Grayson no longer held back. Long, fast strokes replaced the slow, gentle ones and neither of them could think any longer. Forgoing everything, their moans and grunts and whimpers filled the room as Grayson pounded into her and while she loved when he was gentle with her, she couldn't get enough his rougher, harder way to get her to the finish line.

He gripped at every part of her he could get while she held onto him for dear life, her nails making marks as she finished first but he wasn't too far behind. Once he felt her walls clenching once again and the warmth enveloping him, he was faster, jerkier and insatiable. Biting into his shoulder as her orgasm shook loose all the feelings she kept hidden, Grayson finally came inside, filling her up as he laid on top of her, keeping his weight off with his elbows.

"Don't move." She whispered in his ear, her fingers playing with the hair at the back of her neck as he came down from his high, sweaty and pleasantly exhausted, but already craving the next time.

And even when he went limp inside, pulling out, Grayson’s head remained on her chest as she played with his hair, falling asleep to the sound of her heartbeat.

When morning came and her eyes opened, the night before was just a haze. An arm wrapped around her weights her down - it offers warmth, intimacy, a sense of belonging. It's there to remind her what she thought was just a dream - a deal she had made with her best friend that didn't have too much to do with the excuse she used but a genuine question she needed an answer to - what if she was always chasing the wrong brother?

After all, it was Grayson she met first, found handsome and sexy as hell enough to agree to cook him dinner in his own home. She wanted him to make a move so bad, to grab her and kiss her but he never did and Ethan wasn't shy about the attention he gave her. She was reluctant at first, holding off on agreeing to even a date with Ethan until she lost hope. So if Grayson didn't like her even though she had given him more than one chance to say or do something, Ethan did. She waited too long for him to stop her from going out with his twin.

He never did.

"Since you're vegan, I made you vegetable soup and pasta and a carrot cake, all vegan of course." She's perky, excited and a tad shy about the food she placed before him. The worry behind her eyes over his silence had alerted him to smile, widely and with heart.

"I love it." He exclaimed, making her give him a pointed look.

"You didn't even try it yet." She chuckled when he shrugged and started tasting everything.

"I love it and I tasted it all too!!" It was hard not to enjoy Grayson's company, it was all easy as breathing with him. Such a rare feeling in this world, yet one she promised herself would remain in her life in any shape or form.

And by the end of their dinner, it was already too late. Or so Grayson thought because the moment Ethan walked in and sat next to the girl he believed was on a date with, the atmosphere change had made Grayson dejected and he felt like the third wheel.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Ethan asked her and Grayson wanted to snort before shooing him away, especially when he saw Y/N look at his brother in disbelief.

"No." She replied, raising an eyebrow when Ethan suddenly stood up and left. Glancing at Grayson, Y/N silently wondered what the hell happened only to be interrupted when Ethan took the chair on her other side and flashed her a charming smile.

"What about second look?"

And when Y/N laughed out loud, first real laughter Grayson heard, it was for his brother, not him. Ethan was always the more charming one, the one who attracts girls without trying and soon after, he'd watch his brother take the only girl he ever wanted and he witnessed how he broke her heart as well.

But the night they just spent together reminded her of the sadness she felt when it became clear Grayson wouldn't be the brother she ends up with back then. She loved Ethan, still does, but it will never change that longing she always had for the younger Dolan.

Grayson felt her stir under his arm, his eyes fluttering open with a smile as he found his face is buried in her hair and the heavenly lilac scent invading his senses is hers. Memories of the night before had made his morning wood that much worse and while he wanted more than anything to just slide back in between her folds, he couldn't make things awkward in case she's changed her mind.

He still remembers when he found out she was going out with Ethan, not him, making him wonder if he was always just meant to be a bridge that binds them together. He wondered if he'd be able to watch them fall in love and maybe even get married, but it didn't feel like he has a choice.

"Can I talk to you about something?" He could tell she's serious and tormented about the subject at hand, confusing him from the start. It's only been three months since they met and she's become his favorite person within the first hour of knowing her but he feared she'd be bored of him soon and there wasn't much he couldn't handle, but that would definitely leave a mark.

"Sure." Instead of smiling, Grayson grimaced involuntarily, making her frown as she sat beside him, a little stiffer than she usually acts around him.

"It's about your brother." She started and Grayson groaned immediately.

"What did he do?!"

"He asked me out...again." She chuckled at the last bit, shyly looking at her fidgety hands in her lap, unable to meet his eyes.

"I'm thinking about accepting." She sighed, forcing herself to face Grayson, anticipating anger or a jealous fit, anything to prove he cares, yet all he did was swallow thickly, loud enough for her to hear as he scratched his forehead absentmindedly.

"Didn't realize you guys were getting so close." Grayson tried to remain calm, not to lash out because this girl is beautiful, funny, clever and while she's incredibly strong she seems painfully vulnerable and he didn't want to scare her.

"We're not, but he's persistent and I'm out of excuses." She shrugged, deciding not to tell him about the way Ethan makes her feel. It wasn't exactly the same as Grayson, but he was witty and charming and handsome and willing to actually love her and she couldn't wait around for Grayson to remove her from the friendzone forever.

"I'll tell him no if you can give me one reason not to do this." Hopeful, she placed her hand on his knee and waited for the youngest Dolan to speak up and claim her for himself. She waited for him to tell her he loves her and he never wants to be without her...hell, she'd settle for him saying he likes her, but he remained silent and Ethan arrived just in time.

"Hey." Ethan smiled widely, his arm outstretched as his hand opened for her to take and with a final glance, she turned to Grayson in anticipation of any action that would give her an excuse to stay. But nothing happened.

"Hey." She smiled back at Ethan, taking her hand from Grayson's knee and placing it in Ethan's hand reluctantly.

From that moment on, she promised herself to stop her silly fantasies about Grayson, to stop reading too much into his lingering looks or continuous touches and flirting and all the times he had made her heart skip a beat. She promised herself she'd give Ethan a chance and as she departed with him, she did not look back. And she wouldn't for the next ten years, but for Grayson that moment was different.

When her hand left his knee, the cold that settled in had left him craving that warmth for the next ten years - yearning for her touch as much as he does for a fresh breath of air, forever wondering what Ethan had that he didn't. And it wouldn't be the last time he sees them walking away together, the only difference is the distance between them as they do. With time, they grew closer, no longer simply walking side by side but they'd have their arms around one another, they'd kiss, or playfully push around or chase each other and laugh until they both cried. It happened slowly, but it took her away from him, piece by piece until she was truly happy with Ethan, her feelings real and her dreams changed to fit the man she's with.

"Morning." He whispered in her hair, careful just in case she's still asleep so he wouldn't wake her. However, the moment he speaks is pivotal for her, making her turn in his embrace a little too excitedly with a perky smile upon her lips.

"Morning." She smiles at him with glee, throwing her leg over him shamelessly as she brings herself closer to him.

"Woah. Thought you're not a morning person?" Grayson chuckles, his raspy morning voice making her horny all over again and she has trouble stopping herself from initiating anything again.

"Maybe I just had no one to be a morning person with." She challenges, but it only reminded her of Ethan, the grumpier twin that never liked mornings and could only ever be swayed into getting up earlier if she woke him up with kisses or possibly even morning sex.

"Interesting." Grayson raised his eyebrow, ignoring the implication of her words before his hand settled on her hip, finding his fingertips formed bruises.

"Fuck, did I do that?!” Pulling the covers off, Grayson scanned her body carefully with disgust for himself, ignoring her squeal. Despite being bold and freaky in the sheets the night before, Y/N couldn’t help the insecurities flooding her when Grayson got a good view of every single one of her imperfections under the unforgiving morning sun. She wondered if the disgust on his face is because of her belly rolls because she always struggled with her weight which also showed in the stretchmarks and cellulite some men found unappealing and she felt tears prick her eyes as his gaze lingered on certain parts of her body.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you. I swear I’ll be more careful next time.” Those words flew from his mouth before he had a chance to think of the implications. Next time means he wanted to be with her again, to take her as shamelessly as he did the night before but it also meant he was feeling guilty, maybe even remorseful.

“I’m not.” Interrupting his self-pity party, Y/N propped herself up on her elbows and smiled softly, her eyes taking his beauty in because as unforgiving as the morning sun may be on her, it’s definitely illuminating on him. The sun favors him for sure.

“I’m not sorry because you made me feel attractive, needed, loved. I’m not sorry because when you looked at me just now, it wasn’t because you wanted to see the weird moles I may have or the stretchmarks, but for possible signs you hurt me. When you only made me so, so happy.” Sitting up on her knees, her palms find their way onto his abs, trailing his skin with her thumbs as the rest of her fingers grab hold of him and pull him toward her.

“I’m your best friend and I might be carrying your child now. Trust me when I say that there isn’t anything I regret about last night. If anything, the bruises mean we had more fun than we anticipated.” She shrugs coyly, kinking an eyebrow until he finally bestows one smile upon her.

“It was more than just fun.” Grayson notes and she nods. She loved how his words disturbed the rhythm of her pulse. There was never a simple moment between the two of them, always carrying emotions too strong for them to ignore.

“I can tell. Your dick is sort of in my face.” She chuckles, glancing at his red tip already up for the job she absolutely hoped he’d take up.

Crimson cheeks that flushed with blood were enough for Y/N to realize Grayson feels too ashamed to ask so before he manages to say a single word, her tongue laps his tip and a strangled moan escapes him.

Smirking, a little braver, her hand wraps around his shaft, moving up and down with circular motion, her tongue teasing him as her best friend becomes undone, just as he did for her last night. She couldn’t help herself, desperate to hear his moans once again but to have him inside as well.

Pursing her lips slightly, she looks up with her doe eyes, moaning as she opens her mouth and lazily takes just the tip. She hollows out her cheeks around him, and he takes in a shaky breath. His breathing is fast, and she watches him as his eyes close and his head falls back, panting softly as she bobs her head up and down, trying to take as much as she can while moaning herself. Hearing him moan felt almost as good as sex.

“I can’t. You’re. Driving. Me. Crazy.” Grayson says between his shallow breaths, half thinking he should be looking for his inhaler instead of losing his patience. He teased her the night before and now she’s punishing him and he’s not ashamed to admit he doesn’t have it in him to persevere. So, when it feels like his heart will burst, Grayson pulls back before moving in on her without reserve.

“You think that was funny, don’t you?” His snappy attitude only makes it more amusing as she licks her lips and smiles, evident she had every intention of torturing him for a long period of time. Much longer than he could withstand.

“Next time you want to try that, make sure I’m tied down and unable to escape.” Grayson growls before pushing her back down on the mattress and she giggles because she got exactly what she wanted – for him to relinquish control and fuck her into the mattress like there’s no tomorrow.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She winks as his lips hover above hers. He rubs his cock over her entrance, playing with the wetness, and she gasps and shudders when he rubs it over her clit.

“I’d be careful about starting games you can’t finish.” With that warning, he smiles arrogantly, and slowly pushes his head in. Kissing her hungrily, hard enough that she imagined he’d bruise her lips too.

She wasted no time in spreading her legs further to help him adjust. He slowly makes his way in, breaking the kiss only to let himself groan into the crook of her neck, pecking every inch of skin he could get close to. She was tighter than he anticipated, a little harder to penetrate than the night before but she was still willing as her patience resolved and she pushed herself up, switching their places.

A little wild and unexpected, but she made him fall hard. The view before him only made his breathing shallow, panting as she took it upon herself to impale herself fully until she cried out softly.

“Are you okay?” Grayson struggled to speak as his breath turned ragged, making her worry more.

“Should have trusted the speed you were going with.” She managed a smile for him, starting to move on top of him as his hands gripped her hips again and she whimpered when his fingers found their match on the bruises he left behind. However, as she moved, Grayson’s guidance became scarce and his grip weakened when his breathing got louder, enough to make her open her eyes and look at the stubborn man under her who valued pleasure over his ability to breathe.

“You need your inhaler.” She concluded, reaching over him to the nightstand he left it on last night since he needed it after they were done too.

Handing him the inhaler, Grayson took a few puffs before tossing it aside, flipping her back under him so quickly she squealed in surprise.

“Thanks, love. Now, let me have my way with you.” He thrusts fast inside her, pulling out halfway and pushing back into her, holding her hips with a strong grip. His strokes are getting more erratic, faster and harder than before. He pumps fast and hard, with reckless abandon for a few moments before his fingers make play with her clit, making her gasp and buck her hips up to meet every thrust he makes until it drove them to the edge of madness.

He grabs a fist full of the bedspread as he shudders, feeling her cum and scream his name pushing him over the edge as well, ending their insatiable desire for a little while – enough for them to eat something.

He plants kisses to the inside of her knees, and she giggles, pulling them away. He smiles at her, pulling himself up before collapsing beside her, both breathing heavily, happily exhausted as they stare at one another – sweaty, messy hair and lazy smiles on both their faces.

But then the phone rings, interrupting the moment of comfortable silence.

“Ignore it.” She urges him, but the incessant ringing is making them both nervous.

“What if something happened?” Grayson bites his bottom lip before reaching out to see who is calling, finding his mother’s name on the screen. After all, he didn’t come home at all and she had the right to worry about her son.

“Answer it.” Y/N encourages him, aware that she can’t hold him in that room indefinitely, though she wishes she could.

“Hello?” Y/N watched him nod, changing his facial expressions every few seconds.

“I stayed with Y/N. I really don’t want to come today.” Grayson rolls his eyes and Y/N slaps his arm for being rude, even if his mother couldn’t see him.

“No. I’m not. I don’t care.” Groaning, he tossed the phone aside, sitting up with his hands in his hair and a frown etched on his face.

“Everything alright?” Her voice is gentle, soothing, a comforting note in the mess his head’s in.

“Ethan and Kristina are having a lunch for close family and they want me to come and I really don’t want to go.” Grayson explains, sighing as Y/N drapes her arms around him, her hands clasping before him as she leans almost entirely on his back, her head resting on his shoulder as her face is turned to him, pecking his cheek.

“Go. He’s your brother. You should be there for him.” Y/N’s words make sense, but Grayson didn’t want to leave her alone. He didn’t want to spend a single minute away from her. Her touch kept him sane and the way her body fit his perfectly would haunt him whenever she wasn’t with him. He just knew it.

“Not without you. I…If we leave this room, it just feels…definite. Like, all the memories we made will have been for nothing and when that happens, you won’t be mine.” Swallowing thickly, Y/N understood perfectly what he means by that. In this moment, they’re in a protected bubble of their own and although they didn’t say it, it has nothing to do with the deal they made but actual feelings that had been long buried finally came to life. Leaving their bubble might make it all go away. She feared it too.

“If I agree to go…we need to talk first. Like…what are we going to tell them when I get pregnant?” She raised an eyebrow as his hands gripped hers, pulling them apart before swiftly pulling her under his arm and onto his lap.

“I want to say we dated. At least for a little while.” No. He wanted to ask her to date him now. He wanted to ask her to be his, but she said no strings attached and he had no right to go back on that unless she asked him to.

“Okay. But Ethan might be an issue. You two basically lived together.” She reminds him, trying to keep a faint smile present though she wished he’d just stop this nonsense and tell her he wants her.

Does he not feel the magnetic force they’ve been brought together with?

Does he not feel how they’re made for each other?

She wished she could go back and ignore the no strings attached clause in their little agreement because she wanted all of him, all the strings attached.

“We spent weeks apart. I’ll just say it felt awkward and we wanted to be low-key but the pregnancy caught us by surprise.” He’s making these lies up too quickly, too well for her to ignore and she can’t help but wonder how he became a good liar. The Grayson she remembers had always been easy to read but he felt different now.

“Okay.” She hums in response, struggling to ignore his penis brushing against her bare ass.

“I need a shower.” She states, noticing him wiggle his eyebrows. “What?”

“Wanna save some water and shower together?” And while he’s cheesy as hell, she couldn’t help but love it – love him.

“Mom, dad, this is Y/N. My girlfriend.” Y/N had been dreading this moment for months, ever since she realized Ethan is serious about her and his jokes about her meeting his parents were anything but jokes.

“You’re beautiful.” Cameron noted, furrowing her eyebrows before looking at Ethan. “How did you trick her into dating you?”

And while the day went off without a hitch, his parents loving her, Y/N couldn’t help but worry she didn’t really fit in. She worried they pretended to like her, for Ethan’s sake.

“She’s a great girl. Why are you so worried?” Y/N hid as she heard Ethan’s parents talk in hushed voices, realizing it’s about her and while it seemed she had the support of his father, his mother wasn’t as happy.

“She’s great. But I feel she’s more suited for Grayson that Ethan. That’s all.”

It’s been a very long time since the moment Y/N hid in the shed while she heard Ethan’s mother say she’s not confident she should be with her son. It was never that she didn’t like her, she just didn’t find her to be right for Ethan. She wondered how she accepted Kristina, if she ever thought she wasn’t the one for Ethan too. However, she remained grateful to his father for being her defender. He had faith in them and she still remembers Ethan telling him he would marry her one day.

But that never came to be and while it hurt yesterday, she felt at peace with that now. Grayson reminded her of things she forgot along the way and she couldn’t hold it against Lisa any longer because she was right – she wasn’t enough, she wasn’t the one for her son. But Grayson? She really hoped she would be.

“Ready?” Grayson’s voice broke her out of her trance, making her heart jump. Drawing in a deep breath, she nods before hooking her arm with Grayson’s.

However, when they got inside, they found there was no party at all.

“Ma?” Grayson called out for his mother but she wasn’t the one to appear.

“Our flight is earlier than expected.” Ethan leaned on the wall, eyeing the pair suspiciously. “The party is canceled. Mom went with Kris and Cam to buy some last minute necessities.”

Making brief eye contact, Y/N looked away swiftly to hide her true emotions. Ethan always said cheeky was good and allowed her the freedom to be herself. They laughed so much, even in the most inappropriate times, but of everything they ever did, it was looking in his eyes she loved the most. That's all they ever needed to connect, just them, just eyes, no words. So yes, she avoided his gaze like the plague.

“In that case, we should go.” Grayson clears the tension, hating how even after last night and that morning where he claimed her as his, Ethan could just look at her and she’d be lost to him.

“So soon?” Ethan quipped, pursing his lips because he felt something’s askew.

“Y/N’s going back to L.A. soon and I want to spend all the time we have together.” Grayson remarked, taking her hand in his before pulling her back with him, slowly but firmly.

“Have fun on your honeymoon. With your wife.” Grayson adds for good measure, reminding both Ethan and Y/N why it’s best they leave.

Taking her out of there, his hand on her lower back, Grayson made sure he was fast and he left no room for Ethan to make a play on her emotions.

“I’m fine.” She tells him before he has a chance to ask, basking in her glorious smile right after for she holds his hand tenderly and pulls him closer, her other hand grasping his shirt to pull him down and meet her brazen lips.

Without complaints, Grayson accepts her supple lips and closes his eyes to fully enjoy the moment, blind to more than one spectator for his mother, sister and sister in law arrived shortly as their kiss consumed them, but the pair paid no mind to the world around them as they parted and got into the car with one goal in mind – hotel room, no clothes and a lot of screaming and laughing for days to come.

Barely leaving the room, Grayson and Y/N enjoyed each other’s company. She had found herself happily nuzzled in his side regardless if it’s to steal a kiss, make him smile or simply to rest her head as they watch a movie. There appeared to be no limit to their attraction nor their need to taste each other. Grayson loved discovering every inch of her skin, as if he is mapping her body to commit to memory.

“Do you really have to go?” He whines, his face buried in between her breasts, leaving open mouth kisses along her sternum.

“I have a job to get back to. But you’re gonna be there in a month too and we’ll know if this worked or not by then.” She smiles as he huffs, playing with his hair – wrapping every lock around her fingertips.

“Don’t take the test before I come.” He pleads, but she agrees far too quickly.

“Unless I get symptoms, I won’t.” She sighs, looking up at the ceiling. “I wish I never had to leave this room.”

“Me too.” He whispers softly, looking up at her with adoration in his eyes. “I can’t wait to see you again.”

And while he said it would be a month when they parted with one last kiss at the airport, Grayson already started to scheme how to shorten that time and go see the woman he was convinced is pregnant with his baby. He felt it in his bones and he couldn’t wait for a full month.

So, he made different preparations instead – he made room for himself in the Los Angeles branch of the company he and Ethan ran from New Jersey, making sure he’d be there with her every step of the beautiful journey. And he had every intention of making her his, permanently, in that time as well.

Little did he know when he arrives there in twenty days, he’d find his Y/N on a date with someone else.

When he saw her hug another, his heart cracked and he felt his chest constrict. Grayson holds his breath behind pursed lips, his hands forming fists to stop the shaking. She wraps herself around him, too close for his liking and he can’t help but wonder if their time together really meant nothing to her at all. He had hoped she’d abolish the no strings rule, but he felt silly now. She’s gazing through her overly made-up eyes with her cloying vapidity, simpering softly until he tells a joke. Then she giggles like she's a child, slapping his chest playfully while Grayson is stuck in the background, watching her with someone new…or perhaps it’s someone old she never told him about.

He can't say anything about it, to do so will put their friendship at risk, and that is something he won't do. Friends like her don't come along too often. But then again, can he ever go back to just friends after he’s had her in every imaginable way? Friends don’t know how you taste and he knew every inch of her skin. He knew her.

Clearing his throat, Grayson decided not to be a bystander again. He would never sit back and watch her leave with another man again and if he has to, he will fight for her love. This won’t be history repeating itself – he vowed it before walking toward them in strides, to make sure the hug is the only intimacy they have time for.

“GRAYSON?!” Before he can even make his presence known, Y/N catches him from the corner of her eye as he approaches, pushing away the other guy in her excitement only to run straight for her best friend, jumping into his embrace unexpectedly enough to make Grayson stumble upon impact.

“OOf! Slow down, love.” Grayson’s jealousy subsides long enough for him to wrap his arms around her, pressing her closer until he can hardly breathe but air is the last thing he needs now. All he needs is her and that flowery scent of her beautiful hair as he’s once again buried in it.

“SHUT UP!” She yelled, making him wince because she quite literally screamed in his ear but he smiles nonetheless. “I missed you so much.” Whispering softly, she hugs him tighter and he’s certain his lungs are no longer able to expand but it feel so, so good to have her return the emotions he’s been carrying around. It was insufferable to be apart from her, but the feeling of having her back in his arms couldn’t be described by any earthly words.

“Should I go?” The stranger Grayson forgot about had spoken up, making Y/N’s eyes widen before her hold on Grayson relents and she’s stepping back a moment later with a shy smile upon her lips.

“Yeah. I think that’s best.” Pressing her lips together, she waves the man goodbye as he shakes his head in disbelief, turns on his heel and walks away and maybe it’s because Grayson expected an altercation or because he needed it for his own ego boost, but he was disappointed... And a little too happy he was her obvious choice.

“Come on.” Tugging him by his arm, Y/N drags Grayson inside and while she wanted to be the innocent best friend he’s used to, she couldn’t wait long before she had him alone.

“So, uh…Who is that guy?” Grayson didn’t waste time. While Y/N planned to toss her clothes aside and make his jaw drop, Grayson shrugged his jacket off and shoes next, starting up what she hoped he’d ignore. But then again, discretion was never his strong suit.

“Are you? Jealous?" She teased with a cocky smirk upon her rosy lips, drawing him near with every passing second. Rolling his eyes, he shakes his head. Would it be smart to come clean so soon?

"Maybe. It's just...weird." Gulping, Grayson pulls away, something he never imagined he'd do. Whenever she’s a part of the equation, he only ever saw himself being impossibly close to her but now? He couldn’t let her just blatantly ignore his concern.

"Why?" Her eyebrows furrowed as she frowned, praying she's hiding the hurt of rejection well enough not to be caught by him, the man who knows her best.

"Because you might be pregnant and I really want this pregnancy to be our time. To be just us." Pressing his lips together, Grayson drops his gaze, his mind made up though his heart isn't. "But if you want to date I won't stop you."

But she didn't want to. Not at all. She wanted Grayson and perhaps that's why she decided to tell a white lie.

“I never even kissed the guy. He’s got a thing for me, but he just walked me back after work. It’s nothing important.” But that wasn’t the lie she planned to tell.

"I lied. I took the test and it was negative." She promised him she'd wait for him and she did, but she can't risk losing him yet. She needs more nights lost in him, drunk on his cologne and sloppy kisses. She isn't ready to let him go.

"Oh. I guess we need to keep trying. If that's what you want?" Fighting a smile despite his initial disappointment, Grayson took one step closer as her encouraging smile warmed his insides.

"Guess we should. How about we resume here? Now?" The best relationships are often when people are not the same, yet complimentary, each bringing qualities that help the other. This felt like that – they had the important things in common but they have always been different enough to make their lives exciting. So when she cocks her head to the side, giving him access to her neck, Grayson is quick to respond and latch his lips just over her sweet spot, relishing in the moan it elicited.

But it didn’t stop that night. It felt like New Jersey all over again – every moment they could spend together was filled with romance, dates, stolen kisses in public and openly sensual kisses in private. He drove her mad with every touch while she put his worries at ease with every kiss. While she sought an adventure filled life he provides, he wanted a woman that made him giddy with every new sunrise by her side.

From their beach dates to the late night dancing barefoot in the kitchen, stargazing and dinners and movies, to driving around just screaming to their favorite songs like they’re teenagers again. They wasted so much time…So many years they could have been happy were gone, but neither would ever let another moment slip away. So they used the passing months wisely, catching up on everything.

“Can you come home?” She left the message on his voicemail, unintentionally calling her apartment home and to some degree it’s become one. Grayson never found a place to stay since he was renting the house he and Ethan used to live in and she never wanted him to. But today, she needed him. Though he told her he’s going to be in meetings all day, Y/N was hoping he’d see her message and drop everything.

Realizing how selfish her thoughts are, she shakes her head before sighing. Anxiously looking at the pregnancy test in her hand, she toys with the idea of taking it alone and surprising him with it later. She figured maybe it wasn’t really positive and she just ate something bad. Besides, she had some blood on her panties a few weeks ago and while it wasn’t a normal period, blood is blood. Right?

Luckily, she didn’t have to deliberate for long. They always joked about how Grayson could feel whenever she needed him but it always proved to be true. Even now, without even thinking twice about it, he had showed up for her with a box of chocolates she adored.

“What’s the emergency?” Grayson worried because every time he felt her distress in the past, he found her either heartbroken over a guy or there was a death in the family – even if that one time it was a pet fish she grieved for.

“Oh.” Swallowing thickly, Grayson found the reason before she uttered a single word. “Did you take it?” His curiosity was strong, but his furrowed eyebrows showed just how it put him on edge too. If she’s pregnant, does it mean they no longer need to sleep together?

Did it mean she was once again off limits? Deep down, they both hoped it would be a negative, just so they could keep up their no strings attached relationship without putting their friendship at risk but what’s the point?

Are they not past that stage? Neither of them has guts to ask. Not even Grayson, even though he’s always been great in communicating his feelings with her, if his actual feelings for her didn’t count.

“No. I wanted to do this with you. Plus, I threw up this morning…three times…because of chicken.” His eyes show the kind of gentle concern she’s unaccustomed to. He lays his hand lightly on her shoulder, and instead of flinching like she usually does with others, she’s soothed by it. He leaves his hand there and speaks with such a soft voice that his words calm her more by the way they are said than the actual words.

“I’m here. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be there. Whatever you need.” It feels as if she’s wrapped in a blanket of his caring. How could she be scared of losing him when he’s never once left her side? How can she not consider her actions now when she could see how profoundly they affect him too? He’s always going to be the one. Perhaps it was Ethan for her teenage self, the woman she forced herself to be back then but it’s Grayson now…maybe it always was.

“I love you.” She whispers, terrified when his face falls and his eyes widen. She can feel the fear in her chest waiting to take over. Perhaps it only wants to protect her from more pain but there really isn't any danger. It sits there like an angry ball propelling her towards an anxiety she just doesn't need. 

It’s Grayson, he won’t hurt her.

Or so she tells herself.

“I’m in love with you.” She clarifies, her lips quivering as she speaks and he can’t believe the words he waited his whole life to hear are finally spoken.

“I waited my whole life to hear that.” Grayson’s lips twitch as a smile creeps up on his face, removing the serious man he was moments before and he can’t help but giggle like a baby when she pecks his nose – quickly as if she’s suddenly shy before him, as if he doesn’t know her body, movements and even the slightest changes in her facial expressions. He’s always known her better than anyone.

“I love you too. So fucking much…for so long.” He admits, eyes filled with tears as she too starts to cry from happiness.

“And I’m pretty sure we’ll have a baby.” She adds, waving her hands before her face to stop her makeup from spilling down her cheeks, but her smile never falters. Her eyes hold so many emotions at once, but her smile has only one purpose – to make him forget about all the worries he carries with him in the outside world.

“Let’s find out!” She scrambles to her feet, running into the bathroom as he watches her in complete bliss, happiest he’s ever been. She’s closing the door slowly, teasingly, keeping her eyes on him all the way before they’re shut and he can’t help but laugh when he hears her open the tap, aware she’s got a shy bladder and him being able to hear her is making it harder for her to pee.

He finally had an inner happiness, one utterly independent of the outside world. She smiled like it burst from within instead of being worn like an obligation in the way others did and Grayson never felt as grateful as he did just now, aware her smile will be a permanent presence in his life.

“It’s done.” She walks out with a slight spring to her step, holding the stick in her hand and she couldn’t stop her impatient pacing around Grayson, not even when he tried to pull her down to the bed with him. All he wanted was to kiss her and calm her as she does for him, but she needed this freak out. He understood that.

Glancing down, she huffed before her mind registered what her eyes caught sight of. There was an explosion in her brain - the good sort, the type that carries more possibilities than she could be conscious of, but there were hundreds of ideas of the future in that buzz of electricity... she could feel it. It was the calling card of adventure, of paths awaiting her feet. Whatever was ahead could be a great challenge, and there could be tears, but it was her adventure to take and so she smiled. After all, she wouldn’t be alone.

“It’s a positive.” She let the stick fall as Grayson stood up with his own emotions bubbling to the surface, allowing him to sweep her off the feet. Littering her neck with kisses, Grayson spun them around as she squealed, holding on tight with her legs wrapped around his waist.

Had someone told her she’s be in love with a baby on road five months ago when she attended Ethan’s wedding, she’d laugh at them. Not too long ago, she felt herself break for his twin only to realize she was in love with the wrong twin all along.

That night was different. She always felt Grayson put his emotions in every kiss and every move whenever they had sex, but the tenderness of their emotions being out in the open with the happy news overflowing their senses, it didn’t feel like sex. For the first time in her life she understood what it means to make love – to truly love someone with every part of your soul. She always kept some of her heart and soul for herself in past relationships, even with Ethan, but Grayson stole every last bit of her and yet she felt complete, fulfilled like never before.

That night felt right. He felt right.

“What will you tell your mom? Ethan?” She trails her fingers up and down his chest as his hand remains over her lower abdomen, hesitant to move an inch away just in case he feels something even though he knew it wasn’t likely.

“That I love you and you love me and we made ourselves a little miracle.” Grayson takes her wandering hand in his free one, pulling the back of it to his lips. As he leaves a lasting kiss, she grins but the thought of telling people still made her reluctant to leave the bed.

“I’m scared. They might hate me.” She admits sheepishly, looking up at him only to see his frown deepen.

“Ethan is married and my mom loves you. Cameron misses you too. It’s going to be fine and if it isn’t, I won’t let them make you sad. I’ll protect you.” Pecking her nose to seal his promise, he narrows his eyes in thought.

“You know what? I’ll text them all in the family group chat!” Grayson jumps from the bed, using the momentary shock to get away from Y/N before she shrieks. “It’s gonna be painless! I’ll send them a photo of the positive test to prepare them!” His explanation made no sense at all, of course, but he was fast, too fast for her to stop him.

“THEY DON’T EVEN KNOW WE’RE A THING!” She screams, her head in her hands as she blinks fast, trying to understand why he’s doing this but it’s not hard to forget his continuous talks about wanting to be a dad their whole friendship. It was something to boast about for him, but she was mortified. She respected his mother and she felt it was something she should learn of in person, but he had a different idea.

“Fuck.” Grayson’s eyes widen, aware she’s right but it was too late. He had pressed sent before his mind could take responsibility and control over his body and it took exactly ten seconds for his phone to explode because not only did he send it, but he posted it online.

“Why are you pale? You’re literally changing shades!” Y/N jumped too, worried his mother was already freaking out on them but as she looked at his phone and the frantic attempt he made to hide what he’s trying to delete, she realized he had made the entire world freak out.

“GRAYSON BAILEY DOLAN!”

Within hours, their secret was out. Even if he wasn’t a YouTube star anymore, the fan base remained loyal and the photo from his Snapchat was everywhere.

“Shower and get ready while I book us tickets home. Your mom deserves a real explanation.” Y/N ordered as she put her hair up in a tail and he knew better than to argue. After the lecture she held for hours with several mutual freak outs, he knew it was better to be quiet and just be glad she’s not leaving his ass.

Kissing her temple, he was surprised she didn’t push him away as it was the first physical contact they made since his mistake spread worldwide.

“You’re letting me touch you?” It passed his lips without thinking, making her turn to him and her hands quickly found their way to his face, pulling him down to her lips. It was a short kiss, but a reassuring one.

“I’m not sure who you’ve dated but I love you and I’m not going to torture you, okay? You made a big fucking mistake but it’s not something I’d hold over your head. Just get ready.” As he disappeared in the bathroom and turned the shower on, Y/N planned to book tickets and get ready too, but fate had different plans when her bell rang in a few minutes and she opened the door only to have the shock of a lifetime.

Heart beating frantically, she tried to compose herself in order to hide just how upsetting it is to find him there without even calling first. She didn’t need him showing up at her doorstep now…had he done it eight years ago when they broke up after their two year long relationship, maybe then she’d be happy. Now? It was unsettling.

"Why are you here, Ethan?" She frowned, her eyes hard and her jaw set, no room for forgiveness in her but he had to try. Walking past her and inside, he licks her lips before opening his mouth again. He knew he had to choose his words carefully.

"I'm here for you." He could hardly speak, his mouth dry and his hands shaky, feeling like a teenager once again. She always made his insides turn with every look and every smile, but this felt different. She was his judge and jury and he sure as hell committed a crime against her.

"You have a wife, Ethan. You married the girl you told me not to worry about!" Y/N reminds him, memories of their undoing running through her mind.

"Oh, you're gonna kiss her?" Y/N gnawed on the inside of her cheek anxiously, aware this isn't exactly cheating, so why did it hurt? Why did it feel like betrayal? Whenever she looked at her photos, she envied her looks. She looked gorgeous, legs for miles and perfect smile Y/N admired but also envied. Ethan’s fans always made sure she knew how their thought her smile is hideous and after a time, Y/N believed them. She stopped smiling with her teeth, hiding it with her hand whenever she could, never aware of Grayson’s sorrow with every hidden smile. But this girl had the smile they’d like. It’s the first thought that haunted her.

"Just for the video. It's all pretend and she's not even my type, okay? I tried getting Grayson to do it, but he's adamant about being behind the camera. Babe, you have nothing to worry about." Brushing her hair back, tucking it behind her ear, Ethan cupped her cheek with a tenderness she had a weakness for. He had the ability to drive her crazy with such simple tricks and she hated him for it. But she loved the way he’d look at her with care, as if she was the only girl he could see.

And she was. Little did she know, Ethan never loved another like her. Not before her and not after, but at the time, he never imagined he’d ever have to look into eyes that weren’t Y/N’s. She had made him thankful for being alive, for every moment and memory they made together. Memories that would later torment him.

"You can even come to the set if it will make you feel better." Ethan offered but she refused instantly. If she’s so beautiful in the photos, Y/N couldn’t handle her in person. It would be too hard to see Ethan, the man she loves so much, locking lips with another, a girl more suitable for him as his mother said.

"I love you, but I can't trust myself not to go feral on her." Y/N chuckled, but she meant it. How do people do this so easily? How can you separate what’s real and what’s acting when you’re immersed in a scene and the other person? Would Ethan be able to? She was most afraid he’d fall in love with the leggy model and she’d be yesterday’s news like people speculated since they went public. Sure, they never specified which model but they sure as hell weren’t shy about shipping him with every woman in the world beside her.

A few months later

"Hawaii?" Not only is it her dream place to visit, but also a chance to be with Ethan and make beautiful memories, but timing was killing her. She wished to spend the mornings at the beach with Grayson and waking Ethan later when she’s all wet from the ocean and having sex in the shower after. She wanted to run wild in the nature surrounding them, to feel rain on her skin as he makes a declaration of his undying love. She wanted to watch the sun set in his embrace and go skinny dipping under the cloak of night.

"I really can't. My cousin is having that surgery and I'm the only family member around that can take care of her. Damn it." Letting out a frustrated sigh, she threw herself on the bed with a dramatic flare she picked up from him. If anything, it’s true that people in relationships appropriate each other’s behaviors.

"That sucks." Ethan followed her move, but he truly felt sad she wouldn't join the trip. After everything he's been through with his family and losing himself in the past year he finally started to see the light at the end of the tunnel yet she was never waiting for him there. He woke up one day, finally feeling better and saw the distance between them and he feared what it would turn into if they don't reconnect. He easily forgot all the months she didn’t leave his side and her listening to every rant he could produce or her forgiving him every time he snapped at her. She was always there, but his insecurities had started to flood him and he couldn’t help but wonder if she’s avoiding spending time with him. He wondered if she loved him at all or if she found him to be the safe option – routine.

"You won't be alone. Grayson is gonna be there." She tried to cheer him up, unaware of the real list of all the people that would be going as well.

"And everyone else from the video. Plus some other friends." Ethan listed but all she heard was that Kristina would be there. She hated how deep it cut whenever her name came up, especially after the video went public and EVERYONE loved Ethan and Kristina as a couple. They made edits, videos, tagging Y/N in too many of them for her to really see them all but she saw enough. They made sure she knew she wasn’t good enough and they’d never accept her fully. He was always too good for her. At least in their eyes.

It wasn’t easy spending a week without him, complete radio silence. Knowing he was with her made her blood boil and her imagination wasn’t merciful either. But when he returned to her, it was with a smile and thoughtful gifts. As always, she couldn’t stay mad at him.

Soon after, Ethan had come to her with yet another dream trip planned out.

"But all my finals are during that time. I might have a week off for Christmas and New Year's but I'm swamped."

"It's fine." Ethan shrugged, aware there's no reason to fight. "I'll send you a ticked if you change your mind."

"You'll have Grayson. It’s gonna be awesome." Pecking his cheek, she leaned on his shoulder, suppressing the hurt of his continued choices of trips she wanted to take at times he knew she'd be too busy. Maybe it was a way for him to distance himself from her as he had been a bit snappy with every time she couldn’t show up for some gathering. Sometimes, she wondered if he was aware she wasn’t handed the world on a silver platter – she had to work, study, and tend to her family and friends too. He was finally doing better and she was ecstatic for him, but she couldn’t be his whole world.

"Kristina will pick us up!" Grayson screamed from somewhere inside the house, involuntarily adding fuel to the fire.

"She's gonna be there?!" And all her worst insecurities had resurfaced. Not only is he leaving to a different continent for a month or so, but he’d be there with the girl the world wants him with and at a time they seem to be struggling. Does she trust him? Yes. Can she say she’s not afraid he might break her trust? No.

"She's Australian and she’s gonna be there. So yeah." Ethan shrugs, lost to how it infuriates his girlfriend. He never did see the warning signs nor the way his fans’ comments tore her down and slowly scrapped her confidence to nothing. He had watched her light go out without ever doing anything to keep it safe.

"Is there a reason you keep taking trips with her whenever you know I can't leave LA?" She crossed her arms, standing up as her anger bubbled to the surface and her jealousy began to show. Accusations thrown were proof enough their relationship is crumbling, loss of trust filling the cracks left by their lack of communication and as time went by, they allowed the cracks to grow too big.

"No, but you're gonna find one." He grumbled and she only chuckled in disbelief.

"Nice. Turn it against me. Make me out to be the bad guy."

"Look, I can't keep doing this. Your unfounded jealousy is driving me nuts and if you can't trust me, why are we together?" He raised his voice but kept his cool, noticing her arms fall at her sides. It’s exactly what she always feared…he’d find a reason to cast her aside. All she could think is when did he last cry because she was hurt, or come running because he thought she needed help? He used to be so attentive and she understood when he needed to be cared for after his loss but he never really cared for her after that. She became the one making efforts to heal him while her own heart and mind were breaking in the process.

"Are you ending this? Leaving me?" She stumbled over her words as her heartbreak sounded like an explosion inside, making her legs weak.

"I'm saying I need a break. To think. To remind myself why we fell in love in the first place. You were supposed to be the one who stood by me forever and instead you are so mentally fragile that you can't believe in me against the smallest of whispers. But I stand by my offer. I'll send you a ticked if you want one."

Looking back at it now, Ethan knew it was mostly his own insecurities and depression talking and he hung around Kristina so much at first because he felt like that's the only time Y/N shows she cares for him. He had no idea he'd fuck up so bad. He had no idea he was breaking her to the point of no return and that he’d lose her forever.

"I know. But say the word and I'll leave her. We can try again. We can be what we should have been back then!" The way he talks is through his entire body, using his hands, facial expressions, every tool he can use to convince her, make her fall for him again.

"Like the tickets you promised to send me back then? The ones I never got?" And then it dawned on Ethan. Grayson told him he'd handle it. He sabotaged them.

“I asked Grayson to do it…I thought you had them and just didn’t want to come.” Ethan leaned back on the wall for support, wondering why his brother would ever do that to him when he knew Y/N was his sun back then. And even after.

“Right. Nice excuse there.”

“I’m not lying!” Ethan exclaims, shaking his head. “I’m not even sure where he is, but when I find him, I’ll kick his ass before finding out who’s the poor sap that let him impregnate her.” Ethan’s jaw clenches as he takes a step toward Y/N who reacted on instinct when she stepped back, her eyes relaying uncertainty she feels and the slightest bit of fear once she feels the alcohol on his breath.

“Just stay there.” She’s shaky, her mind running with a thousand worries and none of them are giving her room to breathe. Placing a hand over her lower abdomen, she turns her body sideways to protect her unborn child. She didn’t think he’d hurt her in any way, but she didn’t know him as well as she used to and alcohol was never a peaceful companion.

“I just want to hold you.” Ethan croaks, stepping closer when Grayson finally shows up.

“Stay away from her.” Getting in between them, Grayson shields Y/N from Ethan, holding Ethan’s gaze long enough to allow her to slip aside and take a deep breath. While he’s still dripping wet with nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips, Grayson stood proudly before his girl.

“You’re here?” Ethan chuckles, but then his smile is erased when he takes a good look at them both. “You’re here.” He repeats, realizing the horrifying truth he guessed before but never quite believed it.

“Did you…did you impregnate the love of my life?” Eerily quiet, his tone is sharp and voice low, deep and rumbling as his anger clouds his vision.

“You mean the love of my life? You married your girl, Y/N’s always been mine. You took her from me and I wasted ten years of my life watching you take her heart before breaking it. I won’t ever hurt her like you did. Now get out and come talk to me when you’re sober.”

Nostrils flared, Ethan nods, gnawing at his bottom lip as he glances at Y/N and walks back. Hands in his pockets, he chuckles lowly before walking out, leaving the pair alone.

“Are you okay?” Grayson’s concerned voice quickly makes its way to her heart, allowing it to beat at a peaceful pace, once again with the one she loves.

“Yeah.” She manages before hugging him, hiding her face in his chest with new cloud of doubt in her mind…did Grayson really sabotage them?

Their flight was almost twelve hours later, missing the one she wanted to catch while they cuddled to calm down. It was mainly for her benefit and Grayson was happy to oblige.

She was quiet. When Grayson picked up their suitcase, she simply pecked his cheek as a thank you. When Grayson had to swerve to avoid a crash, wide-eyed as he asked her if she's okay, she placed her hand on his knee and nodded. When they sat for hours during their flight, she stared through the window and Grayson felt the lump in his throat grow with every passing minute.

Despite what she may think, Grayson heard a good deal of the conversation she held with his brother...the man she used to whisper I love you before him. Knowing Ethan wants her back and is willing to blow his entire marriage too had made Grayson revert back to the angry, doubtful, hesitant man he was when he first lost her to his brother and it hurt...it hurt that she chose Ethan who had his face but a vastly different personality. Grayson felt inadequate, unworthy, unlovable and to feel that way again, ten years later and when she's pregnant with HIS child? It was worse than before. Insufferable, absolutely soul-aching and tiresome.

Did she regret it now? Regret him and their unborn child? Did she hate him for not sending those tickets? Was she wondering what her life would be like if he had sent them?

Whether he wanted to or not, he certainly thought about it. Imagining them making up, staying together and getting married, his Y/N having his twin's children? It made him sick to his stomach. And frightened of the future, of the simmering fire in her mind as it uncovers every memory she has from that time.

And she did. For a moment, the thought of Ethan crossed her mind but she didn't linger too long on what could have been, rather on why. She wished she knew why Grayson did what he did back then and if he didn't intervene, would Ethan be sitting next to her instead? Maybe...but he isn't and she should ask Grayson for the truth but she knows he's insecure about her past with Ethan, even if he doesn't voice those concerns.

So, instead of rehashing the past, she gave herself time to get over it in order to protect Grayson from any hurt. She told him she loves him, she's carrying his child - isn't that enough to prove he's the one she wants?

"It's going to be fine." Grayson places his palm over the back of her hand that laid flat on her thigh. He could tell she's worried as her gaze fixed on the house he grew up in, overwhelmed with possible scrutiny she may face. He wouldn't let her take the heat.

Interlocking their fingers, he saw her lips quiver momentarily before she pressed them together, turning back to him with a reluctant nod.

"I know." Her heavenly voice eased his own anxiety, making him smile in return before their hands parted and they left the car.

And as they move inside, Grayson placed his hand on the small of her back, looking at her with admiration. He should be worried, but he can't find it in him to regret anything that happened between them in the past five months. The only thing he regrets is the time wasted they could have spent together.

However, the moment they walk in, their worry is replaced by utter surprise when they're met with a rather happy little group.

"Congratulations!"

Lisa, Cameron and her husband, Kristina and...Ethan, all clapped as Grayson and Y/N half embraced one another, Grayson's grip stronger to make sure she doesn't fall back in shock. He looks to Ethan for a moment, wondering how he got there so fast but decides to keep quiet. It's the best thing for everyone.

"Oh, wow!" Y/N exclaims, struggling to draw a proper breath as everyone cheers and though it's meant to ease her mind, it made her more confused.

"You know?" Grayson turns to his mother who nods, laughing.

"Since the wedding. We saw you two sneaking around!"

Cheeks red and eyes set on the floor, Y/N smiles awkwardly, finding it's even worse when they seem to be so accepting, especially after Ethan came to her door not too long ago, with an offer to leave his wife for her and now he had an arm around his wife's waist.

"Don't be so shy, you're giving me my first grandchild! Plus, you've been a part of the family for so long that I'm happy we are actually family!"

Going through motions, that's how it felt. Everyone's hugging her, kissing her, touching her stomach and all she can focus on is the unrelenting, piercing gaze of her former boyfriend. She'd glance around the room, simply to see if she's the only one that notices, but no one else picked up on the dynamic between her and Ethan. Even Grayson seemed oblivious.

"So, everyone is going off to bed." Grayson whispers in her ear, kissing her neck delicately as she smiles, leaning back into him.

"So, what do you suggest we do?" She raises an eyebrow, craning her neck to peck his Adam's apple, relinquishing control as he sways them lightly to the beat of their hearts.

"Maybe you could talk to me?" Ethan startles them, making their little moment end prematurely when Grayson really wanted to slow dance with her where he once saw his parents do the same. He thought it would be romantic, but he found himself ticked off instead.

"You need to stay in your lane, bro." Grayson warns, his face dark as he meets Ethan's longing stare - the one he wore since he met Y/N and he knew Ethan could see he was suffering yet he never cared, so why should he?

"I'll talk to you." Y/N, however, had a different idea. Perhaps it was time to talk, calmly without any bitterness inside her.

"You don't have to." Grayson reminds her, but she just nods, silent again as her lips touch upon his, barely long enough for him to feel anything before she walked away, outside where he feared he might lose her again.

He swore he'd never stand by and watch her walk away with Ethan or any other man again, but he found himself doing it once more.

"So, I'm not going to be the enemy forever?" Ethan leaned on the wall, his eyes alight with the lamp above his head.

"I'm here to close that chapter of our lives." She folds her arms over her chest, absentmindedly tapping her foot against the wet ground beneath her feet.

"Close? So it was open all this time?" Ethan's voice beckons her to respond, his regrets written on his face and he couldn't hide it at all. If he knew he had a chance at any point in time, he'd have taken it.

"Until I saw you get married, I had trouble letting you go." Y/N admits, looking back at the house and up at the room she and Grayson are meant to share is already illuminated by the lamp beside the bed.

"But not anymore. I love Grayson and I think a small part of me always did." Smiling, she looks back at Ethan who swallowed thickly, nodding with a heavy heart.

"Was any of it real? Did you ever love me or was I always the wrong brother? The one you settled for? Why does this hurt so much?" The way he bows his head, unable to look her in the eye is breaking her heart because once upon a time, Ethan really was her prince charming. It hurts to see him so consumed with the past they left behind long ago - the past that consumed her too, up until Grayson saved her from it.

"Because it was real. You stole my heart when I least expected it." The joy in her voice when she spoke about them made his heart break further and even the light her eyes held when she remembered the time he had made her so incredibly happy made him smile despite the pain.

"I loved you for a really long time, Ethan, but I can't lie and say that the main reason why I didn't say yes to you when you first asked me on a date wasn't Grayson. I buried those feelings for years and I fell in love with your beautiful soul and brilliant mind but you also broke my heart and damaged my ability to trust people and love. You found a really good woman, E. Maybe it's time you appreciate her and let me go." Pressing her lips together, she let out a heavy sigh as he kept his gaze steady on her, his eyes sparing no tears as they fall freely.

"Okay? You can love me and still let me go. Because I let you go. For good." And with that, she took a step back, walking back to the house and with every step she felt lighter, happier, while Ethan remained behind.

"You can get out now." Ethan spoke up once she entered the house, looking up at the roof where he heard his brother hiding. He always listened in to people talking as a kid, well...they did it together. He had a feeling Grayson wouldn't miss this talk.

Looking down, Grayson rolls his eyes, slowly moving himself down. He had to be careful or Y/N would kill him if he hurt his back. Maybe she'd kill him for being there at all. It occured to him she may see it as his lack of trust in her, but it was more about his fear of not being enough for her...thank maybe Ethan was still a fresh wound for her.

"You won. She chose you." Ethan says, kicking a rock with his hands in the front pockets of his sweatpants.

"I didn't doubt she would." Grayson shrugs, but he was never a good liar. Ethan could always read him.

"Riiight. Look, I'm sorry. I won't be doing any stupid shit anymore. I had my chance and I blew it and...Looking back at it, I was the one who stole her from you. Deep down, I knew you loved her but a part of me didn't care because I loved her too. I convinced myself she didn't feel the same for you but you two were always closer. She was so much like me, but she always found common ground with you. You made her laugh like I never could and if she's gotta be with someone else, I'm glad it's you."

Finally at peace, Grayson and Ethan parted ways that night as brothers once more. Ethan made his way to his wife, promising himself to show her love she deserves and Grayson? He went to his soulmate with arms wide open, a promise to be the best father he can be and if she allows, husband as well.

"How are you?" He whispers, his hand back on her stomach as she laid on her back beside him.

"Happy." She hums, letting out a heavy sigh.

"But?" Grayson knew that sigh and he knew her, she was holding out on him.

"I finally cut ties with Ethan, but I can't help myself...why didn't you send those tickets?" Looking up at him, she pondered if he'd tell her the truth but he had no reason to lie now, did he?

"Because he told me to send you tickets the same day I saw him kiss her for the first time. I didn't want you to come there and pick up on their shit only to be stuck in Australia for the holidays." Kissing her forehead, Grayson drew a shuddered breath.

"And maybe because I worried he'd find a way to convince you to forgive and forget." But Y/N felt this meant more. Did he think she'd do that this night too?

"You know I love you? Since you asked me to cook for you in return for a watch! And this...you and me and this miracle we made...it's everything." Turning to her side, she splayed her palm on his chest, over his heart.

"You gave me your heart Grayson and I plan to keep it safe for as long as I live."

"Marry me then."

He didn't expect her to agree, not ever let alone when he asked so spontaneously without a ring or a big romantic gesture. Her nails weren't done anyway to show off the ring as most girls seemed to like.

"Yes!" But she did. Enthusiastically so. Her lips smashed against his instantly, turning his brain to mush.

But that night was only the beginning of their relationship.

While their families wanted a big wedding, planning everything because Y/N only wanted the final word on the choices they make with an occasional “LET’S ELOPE” freak out, the pair spent time enjoying their love and the growing life inside Y/N.

"It's a girl." Y/N claimed, but Grayson didn't care as long as the baby is healthy. Ever since the first ultrasound when he heard a heartbeat, Grayson was impatient to meet the baby and became stubbornly overbearing with Y/N.

She didn’t mind…too much. She’d catch him staring at her as her belly grew, noticing how in awe he is of her, unaware he’s wondering how one so fragile and tiny could grow a human inside and actually bring it into the world. He wasn’t the type to sit back and let her deal with it – he got involved. Grayson listened to audio books on pregnancy, delivery and raising children every day while he built some of the things he wanted for the nursery, always when she was asleep.

They agreed to raise their family in Los Angeles, mainly because Grayson knows Y/N hates snow and the LA climate appealed to her more. But then again, he insisted he should have free reign on the nursery, building everything he can to make it special for their child.

With every passing month, he’d measure Y/N’s belly and note it, downloading an application that helped him keep up with the development.

“Sigh.”

“Did you just say sigh out loud?” Grayson couldn’t help but chuckle at his fiancé, smitten by her even though she was increasingly complaining of her looks – something he made sure to stop with unlimited compliments every day, loving her even when she was terrorizing him with pregnancy cravings and sleepless nights that came with her newly developed snoring problem. Grayson truly adored every part of this pregnancy, especially how horny she became.

“I’m bored.” Sheepishly, she puts her leg over Grayson’s, his hand reacting on instinct as it rubs up and down her calf, lightly massaging her aching muscles.

“The doctor told you to rest. So, you’ll do just that and I’ll be your slave as promised.” Grayson tried to reason with her so many times before, but every time he turned his back on her he’d find her up and about. She is stubborn, but very much ready to have the baby they decided not to find out the sex of.

“I know! But I want to take a walk and get ice cream and have reckless, rough sex without this huge stomach making it impossible. And I want a drink…so bad…but I want to breastfeed too! Oh, God, I didn’t think this through.” Hiding her face in the pillow…as much as she could without turning over on her stomach, Y/N cried out of pure frustration while Grayson rubbed her back and held her close.

Hormones in the last trimester weren’t as helpful as they were in the first two. She cried ten times a day, mostly over the silliest things like “The sun is so pretty” or “That shirt fits you so well” and even “Why do I have to pee again”. Regardless how silly it was, he’d never tell her. Her body is undergoing massive changes and all because she’s going to give him the greatest gift of all – a chance to be a father and start a family, to be a man he wanted to be.

But when her water broke just a couple of days later, neither of them were quite ready for it. While Grayson ran around the house, gathering things she’d need in the hospital he made a Pinterest board about, Y/N was trying to remind herself why she did this in the first place.

It’s all fun and games until the pain starts to set in.

“Oh, we should have gotten a surrogate.” She whined as he helped her in the car, thanking his lucky stars he had the keys at hand and didn’t forget them like Ethan teased him he would.

“You’re doing great, love!” He wanted to be calm and supportive, but even Grayson was screaming in a state of panic and he’d laugh if he didn’t find it quite tragic how he’s acting like a scared teen when he’s almost thirty.

“DON’T SCREAM AT ME!” However, he had to reel it in when she started to cry again, realizing he’s scaring her more. But as they got to the hospital and Y/N went straight to the delivery room, Grayson held her hand all the way through – constantly reminding her to breathe so the child could breathe too, guiding her as much as he could between the hand crushing squeezes she’d administer with every push.

Grayson felt like every fiber of his being was vibrating with anticipation. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins. His hands trembled and his eyes were wide. The moment he heard that first cry was also the moment he felt his life had begun and he never felt such gratitude to the universe that gave him Y/N, his soulmate, who was gracious enough to give him the love of his life. Or two other he’d get in the next four years – their rainbow babies - twins, a boy and a girl.

“You were right. It’s a girl.”

This world is quite astonishing, when you claw your way out of the mire of dysfunction. When you first look over the horizon and see nature without the haze of discontent and petulance. Without any filter, with the naked eye and mind open to the beauty of this world, amazement comes. When you see those simple things, when you can fall in love with the simplest things, everything gets so much better. The larger things become almost overwhelming, the sense of love so much stronger. It is then you realize that before you lived a half-life, greyed and without the warmth each human is born with.

Tags: @mendesficsxbombay​ @beinscorpio​ @peacedolantwins​ @godlydolans​ @dolandolll​ @heyits-claire​ @ethanhes​

Their Rainbow Baby - deleted scene

#grayson dolan #ethan dolan #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan x reader #ethan dolan x reader #grayson dolan angst #ethan dolan angst #grayson dolan fluff #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan fanfiction #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan imagine

[shreddedparchment]

Pseudo Princess Pt.10

Kindred Spirit

10/19/2019

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader          Word Count: 5,960

Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, language, yummy Thor

A/N: Okay, as I said before, I’m a little sick right now so I didn’t go back to edit almost at all. Please excuse the mistakes. I will come back and edit at some point but I’m just so unfocused right now. Hopefully this makes sense. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo

Taglist is closed!

Day 3

“-well, and I’m not sure what to do with you. If I were a good friend, I would take you back. I’m sure Steve is missing his wife.”

You’re groggy, weak. Your head aches! Your stomach really hurts too. It groans loudly with the smell of freshly cooked rabbit. The burn of black oak saturates the air but through it cuts a small hint of charge. Like the few moments after a lightning strike.

“Why would his wife run away?” The voice ponders, paying you no mind as you groan. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you weren’t happy. No one who’s happy runs away from home.”

What is he babbling about?

“Are you finally waking up little bird?” He asks, his voice is rich. Not just deep.

Even though he’s clearly sitting a bit of distance away from you, you can feel his tone in your chest.

You look around, focusing on the spot you’re lying in and see you’ve been wrapped in a bright red cloak. Your head is resting on a small bag stuffed with something lumpy but soft.

The sky is purple, shifting into velvet black. Had you slept the day away?

“Are you hungry?” The stranger asks.

At the question you look at him and find him bathed in firelight. He’s still as beautiful as the first moment you saw him and you’re slightly shocked to find that you hadn’t dreamt him up.

Your head is only slightly clearer. You need food and water.

“Here.” He holds out a large leaf with small pieces of freshly roasted rabbit meat.

The smell is intoxicating, and your stomach reaches out and takes the food.

“Eat it slowly. If you haven’t eaten in a while you may-”

You scarf down the last piece. Swallow, then hold out the leaf, eyes pleading for more.

“-make yourself…sick…more?” He checks.

You nod, then wait as he places a few more pieces on the leaf.

“In half an hour I will give you more.” He says, but you’re so busy eating that you don’t care.

“Why are you here? Did you really run away from Steve?” He wonders.

You swallow, licking your fingers as you finish another piece.

“How do you know his Majesty? Why does everyone call him by his first name?” You ask, upset.

So many secrets. Or…really just one. But it’s big enough!

“Oh.” The stranger says, blinks in surprise, then clears his throat. “Forgive me. My name is Thor. Son of-”

“Son of Odin.” You say slowly, mouth dropping open in awe. “You’re an Asgardian. A King. The God of Thunder.”

“You’ve heard of me!” Thor says excitedly, smiling wide, eyes crinkling at the corners.

You nod slowly as he reaches between his legs and produces a fancy looking waterskin. It’s big and it sloshes, wet and tempting.

He holds it out to you and this time you crawl closer to close some distance, moving to sit beside him as you throw the cap open and take a long drink.

You immediately spit it out, coughing loudly as you hack against the bitter flavor. It hits the back of your throat and you taste barley and honey, but you can’t get past the sharp bite to appreciate the flavor.

You’re too busy coughing, passing the skin back to Thor as he chuckles and takes it.

“Oh. That must be the beer.” He says, humor in his tenor. “Here. This one is the water.”

He holds out a second waterskin, just as large, just as slushy and you uncap it but take a careful sniff before you drink.

Thor laughs again. “I’m sorry, little bird. I really didn’t mean to hand you the wrong one. But this will make Sif happy. She’ll be happy to know that her beer is mighty.”

You drink water until your stomach hurts. You outright refuse to hand the skin back to Thor and instead hold it on your lap, staring at the dancing flames of his campfire.

“Do you feel a little better?” He asks.

“Yes.” You swallow, licking your chapped lips. “Thank you.”

“How long had it been since you ate?” He wonders, putting a piece of rabbit in his mouth.

He chews slowly, savoring the plain taste of the meat. It isn’t seasoned.

“A few days.”

“That’s not good for you.” He states, looking over to give you a quick once over. “Don’t worry, I’ll escort you home and then we’ll get a doctor to take a look at you.”

“I’m not going back.” You state, sure, determined.

“Is that wise?” He looks you over again, lingering on your pretty shoes that were not made for the length of trek you’ve taken through such rough terrain.

You adjust your skirt to hide them and his eyes roam back over you until he meets your eyes.

“You are Queen of Broklin. They will be looking for you. You’re important, little bird.” He smiles kindly.

“Let them look.” You sigh. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Because you’re just like a little bird. Escaping the hardships of your gilded cage, as they say.” His smile is knowing. As if he knows a lot about gilded cages.

He probably does. He’s King of Asgard, after all.

“The castle wasn’t a cage.” You frown, hating the taint his words give the happier aspects of your life there.

It wasn’t all bad. You’d had Nat—what have I done?—and Peter—will he blame himself?—and Bucky and Sam. You had friends.

“I lived a good life in the castle. I had great friends and I wanted for nothing.” You assure him.

“Oh?” If your life there was so great, why run?” He challenges, posing a valid question.

Despite all the love of your friends, their support and comfort. One large hole stands in the castle, in your bed, in your heart.

You haven’t thought it in ages, hoping to distance yourself from the way you’d felt but clearly it hadn’t worked. Hearing him say that marrying you was a mistake was just as painful even without you using his name.

Steve.

“His Majesty does not love me.” You look down at your feet, intent on hiding the depths of your hurt. “He told me he wished he had not married me…”

You don’t succeed at hiding your feelings.

When you look at the God, he’s watching you as all traces of his easy smile vanish. He narrows his eyes a little, considering you for a moment.

“I’m sorry.” He nods. “I haven’t spoken to Steve since Margaret died, and he was a wreck when it happened. When I heard the news of his remarriage, I had hoped that perhaps it meant that at last he’d found a way to live on. To be happy. I’m sad that is not the case.”

There’s that name again.

“Can you not-I…I know that I shouldn’t hate someone who’s dead, but I find it harder and harder to hear her name.” You feel like a complete jerk for feeling such animosity for a woman you’d never met. A woman who by all accounts had been good and kind. But she’s been such an obstacle for you. Always there even though she’s long gone. “Please, don’t say her name.”

You beg, picking at the bottom of the waterskin in your lap.

Thor goes silent. For a few minutes, the two of you sit as the world breathes around you. The breeze picks up and you draw the large red cloak—no, it’s a cape of sorts—closer to shield against the slightly chillier wind. The fire crackles and finally Thor breathes in.

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to find something to do until you want to return home.” He smiles at you, offering more rabbit.

“You’ll stay with me?” You ask, uncertain of his intentions but feeling a little comfort at least that he seems to know Steve. “Why?”

“It is my duty to keep you safe as a fellow sovereign and because it’s the right thing to do. Also, my friends would never forgive me if I left you out here alone. No. I will wait until you’re ready. Then I will escort you home.” He nods, happy to see you eat.

“What if I’m never ready to go back?” You check, wondering if he’ll force you.

“For your own good, for the good of Broklin, I hope you will be ready. Soon. I know Steve and he may not be himself at the moment, but he would rather suffer for you than have you struggle out here on your own. He’s a good man. I’m sorry that you have found him now, when he’s still not recovered.

“But I don’t think I’ll have to worry. You’ll want to go back soon.” He says with confidence.

“How do you know?” You ask him, curious as to this unwavering belief that he’s right.

“You love him. It’s as clear as the stars above our head. You’re angry. And hurt. I don’t blame you.”

“Maybe that’s why I’ll stay away?” You counter. “When he means nothing to me, then I’ll go back. Then I can accept who I need to be, and I won’t have to hide how I feel.”

“Then I will stay by your side until you no longer love him.” Thor promises, and with another smile from him, you feel yourself relax at least knowing that you won’t be alone.

~~~~~~~~~~

Day 10

“Why can’t I catch one?!” You growl, flinging your snare onto the ground in frustration.

One week is how long you’ve been moving along with Thor. A week of late-night chats. Sleeping by warm fires and getting to know the God of Thunder.

He has a brother. Loki. Adopted. God of Mischief who Thor has left in charge of Asgard for now. He’d divulged his own troubles with love, and it seems he finds himself in a similar situation to your own, only his is more depressing.

He chuckles as he moves towards you, wide heavy steps as he moves over large rocks and tall grass.

“You’re so stubborn.” He says.

“I am not.” You argue.

He laugh then sits on large boulder before gesturing you towards him.

“Come.”

You make your way to him, picking up your snare as you go, shoving your skirt aside.

You’re still in the dress you’d escaped in only it’s in tatters and you’ve placed a leather skirt over the smoother silk and linen. You’ve washed it once and bathed since Thor found you albeit in a cold river and damn, do you miss your hot baths.

Thor reaches out and waits for your snare. You place it in his hand and move to lean beside him against the boulder. Around your shoulders is his red cape. He’s forced you to keep wearing it because it’s colder here now that you’re closer to the sea again.

“Look.” He spreads your snare wider, adjusting the loop of the wire you’d been working with. “You’re making them too small. The rabbits here are bigger than the ones back in Malibia. Give me your hands.”

You hold them open and watch him place the wire around them, showing you the size of the loop that you need to make.

“This feels too big.” You argue.

“Stubborn woman.” He chortles.

“I’m sorry!” You fuss.

He laughs. “It does not matter anyway; I’ve caught enough for the both of us. Go set this one and let’s go back to camp.”

“Okay.” You sigh, moving to set your snare down.

When you’re satisfied with its placement you move towards him but gasp as your thin shoe tears against the side of a jagged rock.

“Ow…” You whisper and Thor is at your side, hands hover around you without knowing what’s wrong.

“What? What is it? Where?” He demands, an almost panic in his voice.

You reach out and brace yourself on his shoulder as you lift your foot to look at the small cut. Nothing serious. Just a scratch.

“My shoe.” You say, and Thor leans down to look at the tear.

“You need better shoes.” He declares, then without waiting for your response, he sweeps your legs out from under you with one arm and supports your back with the other as he lifts you off the ground.

“Thor!” You complain, startled by being carried so suddenly.

Instinct prompts you to reach up and wrap your arms around his neck but as you come to your senses you move them down to his shoulders.

He says nothing and carries you back to camp.

~~~~~~~~~~

Day 17

“So, you don’t know when she’s coming back?” Thor looks a little sad as he sits beside you, picking at blades of grass between his legs, his right propped up with his elbow resting on it while his left hand does its fidgeting.

“No. I’m sure if she intends to stay away, she’ll send word.” Thor nods, looking at you to smile wide. It’s forced but not ingenuine. He really just tries to take it all in stride.

You see a lot of yourself in Thor. Although he was born into his crown, you can see the weight that it settles on his shoulders. He’s unsure of it, like you are. And like you he’s just as lost in love.

“Does your Lady Jane have a long history with her past fiancé? I would assume that they were together a long time.” You probe, wanting to understand your new friend more.

“They were together for a long time. Blake proposed but did not really want to get married so, they broke off their engagement and then I met her while she was in Asgard studying the stars. We have the best account of the skies and she entranced me with her wit and intelligence.” Thor nods.

“No doubt she’s pretty too?” You smile at him.

“Beautiful.” He smiles.

“How long were you two-?”

“It’s been about two years since we established a courtship. I proposed after a few months. But Jane is unsure of the life I can offer her.” You look away as he speaks now, knowing what Jane must be feeling.

“It’s scary.” You tell him, knowing that it won’t alleviate his pain but maybe you can offer some sort of understanding between them? “Having all this new responsibility?”

“One that you have shirked.” He teases, leaning to nudge you with his shoulder.

You smile, shake your head, and bite your lip.

“Yes.” You agree. “And I feel really…I shouldn’t have left like that.”

Thor’s smile is gone when you look up at him again.

“I don’t blame you. Steve should not have said what he said. I understand his grief and I can’t hold it against him, but I’m sorry that he’s hurt you. You do not deserve that, little bird.” Thor reaches over and places his hand over yours, you quickly turn yours over to lace your fingers through his.

You’ve been finding comfort in Thor like this for several days. He seems to need the physical reassurance as much as you do.

A soft touch.

A connection.

You settle in against his arm, tucking yourself into his side underneath it and he sighs heavily. Both of you heartbroken and uncertain of your futures.

“It can’t have been all bad though, right? You said that he came to you every night?” He hesitates for a moment but then speaks with confidence. A light teasing. “That must have been fun.”

Laughter from you is not what he’d expected.

You lift your head and throw it back as you let the sad bit of humor die, then put your head back against his large bicep.

“Why is that funny?” He asks, genuinely confused but still slightly smiling at the sound of your laughter.

“Why would sleeping with his Majesty be fun?” You chuckle once more then turn to look up at him.

He’s staring at you, brow furrowed in confusion.

You sit up, a little worried, and shift so that you can see his face better.

“What?” You ask, suddenly concerned.

“Why would it not be fun?” He asks, frown lines creasing his handsome tanned face.

“Is it…” You swallow, nervous now for another reason.

Suddenly your mind is in a frenzy wondering if everything you thought about his Majesty liking your body at the very least, is a lie. You’ve been lying to yourself. You’re doing something wrong. Maybe that’s why his Majesty hasn’t warmed to you?

“Is it supposed to be fun?” Your startled expression makes Thor’s soften.

“Y/N…” He begins, swallowing hard before he turns towards the fire and after a moment, he shifts his entire body to face you. He takes both of your hands in his and slowly makes circles with his thumbs along your skin. “You may find this a bit-I know that I shouldn’t ask but I’m going to and if you do not wish to answer me than you don’t have to but please know that I only ask out of concern for you.

“Has Steve never made you feel good in bed?” He asks, his cheeks tinting pink as he does.

This question is just as uncomfortable for him to ask as it is for you to hear it.

You consider telling him that it’s none of his business. That you’ve only known him for a little half a month so how dare he ask you this very personal question?

But his eyes, those electric and piercing blues, tell you that he’s genuine in his concern.  Also, you really want to know if maybe you’re doing something wrong yourself. If you can fix things with his Majesty…

You begin to shake your head, moving it to the right then hesitate, but finish shaking it as you answer his question with a timid. “No. Never.”

That’s a lie…there was those moments…right before on your wedding night…

“Wait, he did-I liked the way his hands felt just before we consummated our marriage. I liked how he felt…” Your ears are burning as you admit these things to him, things you haven’t even told Nat. “On top of me. His weight?”

“Is that all?” He asks.

“I was a virgin when we married.” You explain. “I knew that the first time would be difficult.”

“Difficult how?” Thor is frowning again.

You don’t want to say it. You know that it wasn’t normal. You know that he’ll judge his Majesty for it…but maybe he can help you?

“I think things were overwhelming of him that first night. I think maybe he missed…missed her and he’s so clearly not over her so doing that with me might have-”

“Y/N…” Thor says a bit more sternly. “What happened on your wedding night?”

You look away from his face, down at his wide chest and recount the night for him.

His Majesty had been quick. He’d wanted it over with. This you realize now. He’d wanted to be done with that part of the day and he’d been rough in his haste. You know that he didn’t mean to do it. You still know that his apology late that night had been sincere. He’d hurt you and he’d regretted it.

You also know now that it’s because he’s very much in love with Margaret still that he’s hurt you over and over again since then. Not physically. Never physically anymore, he could never do that to you after that first night, but he has hurt you. All for her.

By the time you’re done, Thor’s hands are shaking. He tries to hide his upset from you by releasing your hands and turning away, but you can see the tension in his shoulders.

“And has it been like that every night since then?” He checks, looking down at his fist clenched tight.

“No.” You hurry to reassure him. Scooting closer to try and look at his face. “No. His Majesty apologize for what happened that very night. He left me alone for a week while I recovered and when he returned from his trip, he told me that if I wanted him to stop that I need only say so. That he would not touch me until I was ready.

“But he needs an heir, so I did my duty. I…He’s been kinder. Gentler. It-It doesn’t feel good, but it doesn’t hurt. It…it doesn’t feel like anything really. One time I thought that he might kiss me but-”

“He hasn’t kissed you yet?!” Thor demands, turning to look at you with raging blue eyes. They almost seem to glow.

“I know he doesn’t love me. Why would he kiss me?” You ask him, confused by his anger.

“Am I possibly doing something wrong? Is there something that I need to do for it to be better?” You ask of him and he turns sorrowful eyes on you, aghast at your question. “I’m sorry, I don’t…I have no experience in things of this nature. I don’t know if-”

“You have done nothing wrong, little bird.” Thor turns to face you again. “You are…”

He swallows hard and it looks like he’s warring with himself.

“You are perfect.” He declares and you feel your neck burn.

“I’m not-”

“You are. I don’t know what keeps my stupid friend from seeing that, but he is wrong. You deserve to be cherished and I’m sorry that he has not given you that. If I were free…if my love were not otherwise already-” He hesitates but then leans in fast and kisses your lips before you can protest.

It catches you off guard and you let him kiss you only because your body is still trying to make a connection to your brain.

His lips are warm…no, hot. Like fire. They’re wet and soft and his eyes are closed.

They’re not his Majesty’s lips—and you find yourself a little foolish for wishing they were—but they feel good pressed against your own.

He pulls back and quickly runs his thumb across your lips, massaging them lightly.

“If you were not already married and if I did not love Jane…I would claim you as my own and give you the world, little bird.” He declares and your heart is thumping wildly in your chest.

He pulls you in against his chest and hugs you until you fall asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

Day 27

You wander back from the water, moving to where Thor waits with an and his knife out as he slices it then eats a piece. You’re in a new nightdress. A simple one, shorter than the ones you wear at the castle, and more cheaply made too.

Thor had left you for a few hours early in the morning to get supplies from a village and he’d come back to tell you that the search for you is still ongoing. You’d been silent for most of the day, caught up in your guilt at leaving.

How worried would Nat be? Nat who’s been nothing but kind? You’re also very worried about Peter. Your own personal guard. What can this possibly be doing to him?

With him, Thor had brought new clothes for you, a simple dress made of wool in dark blue. Your hair freshly washed and now braided at the front to keep it back and out of your face you move to take the dress from him.

He has refused to leave your side lately and you’re not exactly sure why but he’s more protective than usual. His eyes wary. His anger, after admitting to him that you have yet to receive any kind of pleasure from his Majesty, has only intensified since you told him.

He hasn’t brought it up, but you know that’s what it’s about. He hasn’t kissed you again either which you’re grateful for. Not that you didn’t like it. You did. Very much. More than you should.

Thor feels like a second half. Like he knows you and how you’re feeling and what you want.

He knows you love his Majesty even if you know you shouldn’t.

“All done?” He asks, looking up at you as you move towards him trying your best to cover yourself as the wet from your bath in the river has made your nightdress stick to your skin.

“Yes.” You reach out for your dress and it only takes him a second to realize what you want before he clears his throat and hands it over.

His cheeks are flushed again, bright red as he avoids looking directly at you.

Slipping the dress over your head, you turn around to have him help you lace it up. The heat of his breath wafts against your exposed neck as you scoop your hair over your shoulder to give him access to the back.

He’s standing so close; his body heat is raising goosebumps on your skin.

You hear him swallow hard, and your mouth dries up.

“There.” He says, reaching over to pull your hair back into place.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

The two of you are being stupidly polite right now and you know that it’s because of this ridiculous tension you’re feeling. At moments when things are quiet, like now, when the world almost feels like it’s fallen away…the pull you feel towards this massive God-man and his beautiful blonde hair and beard…his stiff muscles and golden skin…it’s strong.

You wonder if it’s wrong to want him in these moments. You’re married. You, despite your better judgement, love your husband. But the way Thor makes you feel as if you aren’t alone is intoxicating and you want to be nearer.

Despite the power that radiates off of him, his size, and the way you can see that if he wanted to, he could crush your skull with his bare hands, he’s soft and gentle. He makes you feel safe.

You toss and turn, sighing every few minutes as you try and sleep. The fire a few feet away casts the world outside your little circle in dark shadows, as orange light dances along the inside.

Thor will still be awake. Keeping watch.

You turn one final time towards his usual spot and nearly panic when you see it empty.

“Tho-?” You begin, but a large calloused hand around your ankle draws your eye.

You look down at your feet to find Thor on his knees, left hand around your ankle, right on the other side of your leg.

There’s a sorrow in his eyes, a fire in the pupil, like desire. It steals your breath as he runs his left hand up along your right leg, pushing your dress up as he goes.

You lay back, staring down at him as you swallow and relish the way his finger tickle their way up along your skin.

“Let me show you.” He whispers, voice trembling in your chest, your core heating up and embarrassingly slick.

You’re self-conscious as he reaches it, sliding up along your body so that he can look down into your eyes as his hand teeters closer to your slit.

“Thor…” You hesitate, wariness in your voice.

Then he touches you, a single finger running up along your cunt. You can feel his digit slip along your folds until he’s pressing at your clit and you’re not sure what it is you’re feeling but you gasp and reach down to grab his wrist.

“Thor…” You plead, confused and startled.

“It’s alright.” He assures you and he brings that finger down and pushes it inside you.

You gasp again, shutting your eyes as you throw your head back, overcome with sensations that feel wild and uncontrollable.

You keep trying to catch your breath, to control the way his finger makes your thighs weak, but you can’t.

He pumps his finger slowly, watching your face as you open your eyes again and your mouth pops open in a silent cry.

“It can feel good.” He promises, showing you with his hand.

He adds a second finger and you whimper quietly, so quietly it’s hardly a sound. He presses his thumb against your clit again as he works his fingers, the sound of wet is loud and your ears burn in embarrassment.

Thor kisses you, meeting your lips with a quiet fervor, tongue sliding into your mouth quickly but just as quickly it’s gone, and you’re left gasping after him as he slides back down along your body and flips your skirt up and over his head.

He settles between your legs and you make to sit up, panicked by where he’s going.

You’re too wet down there! It’s gross. What is he doing?

“Thor!” You cry out, not in pleasure but in fear.

You feel the rough prickly hair of his beard against your thigh first and you’re so scared of where he’s going that you sit up fully, but your legs are spread wide for him as his shoulders keep you from closing them.

“Thor…” You plead, as his beard scratches the fold of your bottom. His nose tickles against your clit and your panic reaches its peak as you grab the back of his shirt to pull him away because you’re gross down there all wet, but he licks you and you moan.

He spreads your pussy lips with his fingers and guzzles you up, a sloppy open mouth kiss pressed to your cunt as he settles his mouth over your mound and his tongue laps at your clit.

Your body is shaking, weak from the shock of how euphoric your body feels.

You’re bathed in golden bliss and you didn’t even know it could feel this way. You didn’t know that a man with his mouth where Thor’s is was something that you could want.

This mass of muscle between your legs, licking up your juices and moaning with pleasure at the way you scratch into his back has opened your eyes and for a moment you feel happy.

Happy that this is possible. Happy that you’re not broken and what those girls back home had said about the way that a man could make them feel was real.

Through the pleasure however, a darkness settles over you. Sorrow wraps its skeletal hand around your heart and overpowers all physical wants.

Even though Thor’s powerful tongue is making your body tremble, your hips are starting to buzz and you can feel a build up of pressure in your cunt, you push him back. Before that pressure can crest, before you can feel where this build up can lead, you have to stop him. You deny your body the bliss it’s moving towards.

You don’t want this. You do...but...

“Stop.” You beg him, sobbing.

When had you started crying?

Instantly Thor is up, pulling your dress down as he moves to lay beside you, hovering as he checks you over with his hands and his eyes.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, “I can be a bit enthusiastic.”

But you shake your head, tears still streaming down your cheeks. You look at him and see your arousal on his beard, shiny and heady in its scent.

Thor caresses your cheek, worried, but not disappointed.

“What is it, little bird?” He wonders, wiping a tear away.

But how can you put it into words? How can you explain to him the devastation you feel when you think about the fact that you’ve been sleeping with his Majesty for six months and not once has it ever come to feeling like it just did with Thor?

How do you explain to him that all you can think about, all you want, is for Steve to make you feel like this? You want to feel him want you. You want to feel this kind of passion.

He seems to understand without you needing to explain because he takes his hand and goes back to adjusting your dress over your legs.

He reaches for a small rag from his bag nearby and wipes his mouth before he settles in beside you and kisses your temple then pulls you tight against his chest as you continue to cry.

“I’m s-sorry.” You sob, nestling into his chest.

“Don’t be, little bird. You have nothing to apologize for.” He kisses your head again and gives you one final squeeze. “Sleep.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Day 32

“Be careful, Y/N. These rocks are wet.” Thor shouts towards you.

The two of you have been walking since the night that neither of you will talk about. You still hold his hand and you still sleep beside him, nestled in his arms, but he hasn’t tried to touch you again.

Things are not awkward though and you attribute that to his generosity and the way he seems to put you at ease.

The trees are starting to look familiar, dark oaks and tawny birch, nestled against the jade green of Broklin castle’s border forest.

You realize now, with Thor as your guide, that you’d been running in circles those first three days. Which is a stupid and silly mistake for you to make as you know better, but you blame it on the distraught state that you’d been in when you’d left the castle.

Now that you’re almost back, you’re eager to be there. See your friends and apologize for the stress you must be causing them.

“How much longer?” You wonder, stopping to look ahead, balanced precariously on the sloping tops of two large stones.

“Not long.” He promises. “Not long.”

The way he repeats it, sadly as if he regrets the short time the two of you have left together, makes you sad too.

You turn to look at him, licking your lips as you consider the consequences of what you want to tell him.

“If…if I wasn’t already married.” You say, loud enough for him to hear.

He stops walking, hand on his knee as he balances, eyes on you wrapped up in his bright red cape.

“If I didn’t love his Majesty…I would have been lucky to have you as a partner.” You admit, smiling at him kindly. “I feel as if I’ve known you for ages even though it’s only been a short time.”

Thor smiles, blue eyes twinkling fondly. “I know what you mean.”

“You deserve the world too, Thor. And I’m sure that Jane will come to her senses soon. I could write to her. Tell her about our adventures in the woods?” You offer, teasing him but also meaning it.

She should know that someone will love Thor the way he deserves if she lets him slip through her fingers. Any service as sovereign is well worth his love in your opinion.

“Thank you.” He booms. “I might have to take you up on that.”

As he begins to walk, you turn to move on too but find your vision obscured by a large silver sword swinging towards your face.

You duck quickly, years of dodging hits from the rougher men in your village finally paying off.

As you duck however, your foot slips and you go crashing to the ground.

The rocks you’d been standing hit painfully as you land on them. One against your side, one against your head. You roll to your right to rest between the rocks as a loud grunt from Thor finds your ears sounding muffled from the blow to your head.

You look around, blinking against the haze that you can feel coming and see a stunning spark of blue-white electricity. Like lightning only horizontal and coming from the direction Thor had been standing.

You see a figure in low-profile black leather armor take the hit and fly into the air, sword flying up into the sky and landing with a muted clang several feet away.

Thor’s face comes into view just as your vision begins to blacken.

He says your name, but you blink and don’t open your eyes again.

#king!steve x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #marvel fanfiction #king!steve x reader fic #king!steve x reader fanfic #king!steve x reader fanfiction #king!steve x you #king!steve x y/n #king!steve rogers x reader fanfiction #king!steve rogers x reader fanfic #king!steve rogers x reader fic #king!steve rogers x you #king!steve rogers x y/n #marvel au #medieval au #medieval fantasy au #steve rogers x you #pseudo princess pt10 #pseudo princess #shreddedparchment

[themangledsans0508]

From the Inside Looking Out

Read on Ao3

This was for her daughter, everything was for her daughter. This whole experiment, it was for her daughter. Her daughter’s future, her daughter’s success, her daughter’s potential. Under the guise of humanity, it was just for her child.

Which was why she was okay with the sacrifice, Emelia’s anger, losing everything. What she was not okay with was losing control.

Sinking through an orange liquid, up to her waist while being watched by the Mega Monkey. Unable to decide how she acted and having to fight to stay in control.

Then the fume hit them, and she was thrown onto her hands and knees. The monkey stood at attention and she could see the outside. She could see Emelia, she could hear her.

“Oh, Song. You didn’t think this through.”

Yes, she did. She put over a year of thought into it, she put at least a decade of science education she had to work, she put everything into it. She tried to reach out and grab her, but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t do anything. She could only watch from the monkey’s view.

“We should leave this pile of rubble, take me for a walk, Song.”

She tried to run away at every opportunity, but Emelia always found her. Sometimes she escaped for weeks, sometimes months, once even a whole year, but she would track her down one way or another. Someone who was once her best friend was now her capture.

Sometimes she’d say things to her that she thought would never grace the world again.

“Do you remember when Liam was killed?” Emelia asked one day. She didn’t respond, she missed Liam. He was someone who had daydreamed with her about a safe surface, then he was taken away from them all so suddenly. Emelia took her silence as a yes.

“Well, he had actually managed to befriend some mutes. Rats that drove a van. He was always too charismatic for his own good,” she chuckled darkly. “He wanted to tell everyone about how nice they were, how they liked him and even were going to welcome humans into their park. But that was against our goal.” She grinned at her.

“I couldn’t let him do that. So, do you know what I did Song? I shot him. I shot him right then and there.” The laugh disturbed her deeply and if she could have backed away any further from her in the cave she was trapped in she would have. She would have run as fast as her legs could carry her. Instead, she just trembled. Emelia stepped closer to her.

“The end justifies the means. Come on, I think there’s another burrow nearby.”

Another time after an encounter with Scarlemange, Emelia had her blocked in again.

“He was like your son, right? How did he end up like that? I guess insanity is inherited. I’d assume it was from your side, but Lio spent more time with him. And somehow, Lio disappeared from our burrow, with your monstrosity, and left him behind. I guess he was disappointed in him just like Father was disappointed in Liam.” Emelia tapped her fingers against her chin.

“Liam, Liam. He was never the smartest. Nor was he very strong. But I have to say, he was very dedicated. Too bad it was to the wrong cause. If he had listened more he would be alive. Father told us the truth, how Mother died was directly caused by mutes. Yet Liam always bought into what the Overseer told us. I told you too, Song. But you didn’t believe me.” She slammed her fist into the dirt, and she had the strong urge to do the same to her body. Her hand was stiff although in her reality it twitched.

“You all let yourselves be occupied with basic science. We never moved forward until I was in charge. I can’t believe it was ever a debate whether you or I should lead. If you lead, we’d all be like you.” Even the wave of her hand she had to obey, no matter how hard she fought.

The last time Emelia controlled her, Song will never forget.

“You haven’t seen your daughter in a long time, she’s turning thirteen soon, right? I bet you’d love to see her again. And you’re in luck because I need that monster right now.”

She wanted to kill her, she tried. She lunged and swung and kicked and bit but in reality, she was frozen. She could do nothing.

Then she didn’t see Emelia, but her husband.

“This isn’t you.”

This wasn’t her. This was Emelia. The collar felt like molten lava on her fur. This was the man she loved.

Then it released another wave of pheromones.

Next, it was her daughter. Pesky axes that did nothing but annoy her, faces she didn’t recognize, snakes that only felt like small pinpricks. The music was unmistakable. After random strokes over the strings and shouting she charged but then her daughter started singing.

“We may not have sunshine, or starlight, or weather. But, we have each other, and that’s even better.”

That was their song, but that wasn’t Lio. And no one else could know it but…

Kipo.

She slowed down until she was only sliding and then standing still. Her eyes were fixed on her daughter. The girl she never got to raise. The girl she hadn’t seen in over a decade. She let her finish singing and kept her gaze on her.

Did she eat humans? No. Did she take them? No. Did they get away? Yes.

The glow on Kipo’s face would have spread to hers if she didn’t have fur. She reached a finger out to touch her and drew it back when Kipo jerked back before trying again. To touch her baby after so long made her indescribably happy.

Then she asked why she broke into the burrow and her collar started beeping.

She tried to signal what was happening, but Kipo couldn’t understand. When it released the pheromones, she used her last few seconds of control to run away. With no humans in her hands, she had no orders and she would not grab her daughter.

The next time she saw a human, it was again Kipo. This time, with a jaguar paw. She was growing up, and she was missing it. Her girl helped her, she cut through her collar. But she still couldn’t understand her, no matter how hard she tried to sign that she was her mom. Kipo misunderstood as her wanting to go with her, which wasn’t wrong but was not what she was trying to say. Before Kipo left, she did attach a bracelet to the fur on her arm.

She spent a long time staring at it.

Then it was Emelia again, but she wasn’t alone.

She was frozen in fear as Emelia spoke, she wasn’t hearing anything she said. Then she saw the collar and heard a sentence that registered.

“Put it on the monkey.”

She ran, her legs carrying her faster than Emelia and her goons could keep up.

Then not much later her son.

He chased her around Las Vistas, able to move well enough around the buildings that he didn’t crash as his followers did. He talked to her normally, before preaching of a future for mutes, and she ran. That was not the mandrill she had raised.

Then she was tied to a tree with silk, and she awoke to a small human climbing her. She looked down to see Kipo scaling her.

“Hi, mom.” She never thought she’d hear those words. She cooed at her and she was offered a canteen. “You must be thirsty.” Yes, she was. “Let me get you out of here.”

She raised a paw to strike and was grabbed by a flamingo’s talon. She howled in panic but she couldn’t do anything. Her hands were tied.

Her surroundings suddenly changing into a cave was shocking, even more so when a tardigrade started talking to her. Her daughter befriended a water bear, somehow she was not incredibly surprised. What she was surprised by was that she was now immune to pheromones. She could protect her family now, and she could convey a message.

“Could you tell Kipo mom loves her?”

The coronation was terrifying for her, and she could have easily escaped. For Kipo, however, she’d jump into an active volcano. So she did take the golden top off a building and help a thousand humans escape. So when she saw Kipo take charge as a jaguar and try to knock the tree down she joined. Even after her hand got gilded, she stood by her daughter.

When she howled in pain after she realised she was stuck, she howled with her. She understood. She wrapped her arms around her for the first time in twelve years and held her as she cried. She didn’t let go until Kipo had turned back and she could not be prouder of and happier for her daughter.

“Don’t worry mom, we’ll get you back.”

Working alongside Kipo every day was a blessing, even under threat. Getting to see her every day, getting to see her husband every day. Even if they could only hug her finger, she was content.

Then her family was under stress and she had to practically tackle her daughter to keep her from running into a trap. Afterwards, all she could do was pace back and forth. She knew how to beat Emelia at her own game, however, she didn’t know how to communicate.

“Hey! Song! Song!” She looked down at Scarlemange, the frustration painted on his face making her feel guilty. “These are my only hours of peace and quiet, and I can’t enjoy them if you’re shaking the whole forest!” She tried to sign to him, but he didn’t understand either. She picked his cage up and started cooing at him.

“You know I can’t understand you, right?” he stated and she groaned in frustration and pressed her palm to her forehead. “Wait, I’ll make you a deal.” She shook her head and the cage, eliciting a shout. “It’s not letting me out! Don’t worry. But I need you to do a favour for me and I’ll do a favour for you. Deal?” She nodded, and Scarlemange let out a shout. “Nod with your head, not your whole body!” She corrected herself and he smiled. “Good.”

It took them a long, long, time. Trying to use motions, then blocks, then motions again. He couldn’t understand her signals, her fingers were too big to use the blocks, and he couldn’t understand her noises.

She started signalling very quickly out of habit, and was surprised when one of the kittens pointed at her and said; “That means no!”

She nodded and Scarlemange tapped a finger to his chin. He climbed up next to the kids and sat with them. It was like playing charades, more like a game than a translation. Granted, it took them ages, they did eventually get her message down.

They delivered it, and she had to watch her daughter go and hope she’d be okay.

When she did come back with her friends, she let out a sigh of relief. She watched them talk and leaned down to be level with Kipo when she approached her.

“Let’s get you back, mom.” Her finger was pricked with something, and everything felt like she was on fire. She flailed briefly, and then her vision went black.

She got it back quickly, and she pushed herself up with two hands. She looked at her body and she wasn’t a monkey anymore, and she only had two hands. She pulled herself out of the crater she had made and her eyes landed on her daughter. The moment she got on her feet, she ran towards her and grabbed her in a hug.

#kataow #kipo and the age of wonderbeasts #song oak #kipo oak #emelia kataow #chara writes

[mcudarklibrary]

Dark! Multi-chapter Stories In Progress

Welcome library dwellers. Browse the catalogue for delicious dark treats that are currently still brewing about our favourite Marvel characters. Want your story added to the list or have you found something hiding in the dark corner? Send us a message and we will add it to the catalogue. 

Remember, AUs are more than welcome in the dark part of the library!

Happy reading, darkies! 

Steve Rogers/Captain America

A Gentle Frost by @jtargaryen18​

You were a newer member of the Avengers when the Sokovia Accords tore the team apart. A meeting is arranged between Vision and Wanda. Steve knows Vision will come to his side for Wanda. And that leaves you… Steve plans to take you for his own. 

All I Want by @kellyn1604​

Professor! Steve Rogers sees a lot of potential in a new student. One that he would like to explore, but professional and societal expectations have ways of keeping us from what we want.

Captive by @mdemontespan1667​

Hydra brings Steve and Reader together

Die Besessenheit by @imanuglywombat​ & @sophiria​

You have slowly worked your way through the writer’s ranks at the New York Times, finally securing your dream spot in the business section as an investigative journalist. However, turning down your boss’ advances lands you writing the article from hell: a PR-fix for the Avengers.

Since the destruction of Thanos, the world has idolised the Avengers. They can do no wrong. You see through the facade and their ego. Forced to stay at the new facilities, you must live the Avenger’s lifestyle and document the life of an international superhero.

You catch the eye of Steve Rogers, Captain America.

Fixation by @smutsonian​

You were just walking home from a friend’s house when all of a sudden, a certain super soldier ambushes you.

Heartbeat by @tansypoisoning​

In which Steve comes back from the past to be with you, but he’s not the same person he was when he left

His Muse by @golden-ariess​

You are his muse. The way you walk, the way you move is living art to him. He falls deeper every time... But you don't know him.

I Find That Which Is Lost by @caffiend-queen​

In which Traveller, who ekes out a living by traveling through time to bring back that which is lost, discovers that a reckless and desperate Captain America is sending out ripples that are shredding the fabric of Time through his use of the Infinity Stones. Steve Rogers may not understand what he’s doing, but the Traveller does, as well as Loki, the God of Mischief and Lies. The question is, why is the former Avenger doing this, and who can stop him before he tears Time and Space apart?

Say Thank You by @honeyhan-123​

Nearly five years have passed since Steve Rogers saves your life without so much as a thank you. When he sees you again by chance, he makes sure that he’ll never let you go and maybe teach you some manners in the process.

Sibling Rivalry by @imdarkinme​

This a story set in GoT type scenario, where the reader and Steve are half-siblings, and children of the Warden of Brooklyn. You both hate each other and try to compete with each other until one of you rises above the other.

Tapestry by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​

King Steven had a wandering eye but you never thought it would fall upon you.

The Nearness of You @cptnrogerss​

it’s the first christmas after the snap. grief brings steve back to where he first found bucky in romania. he finds a ghost that bucky left behind instead.

What You Need by @tansypoisoning​

Life as an unemployed, homeless wanderer was hard, until you met Captain America. Then it got worse.

Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

A Gilded Cage by @imanuglywombat​

James Buchanan Barnes did not deserve love. After a lifetime of killing and torture, he was beyond the scope of being loved. That was until the night he met you. It was love at first sight for both of you. The panic sets in though when you begin to pull away, consumed by the demands of your career. Bucky has to keep you safe, keep you locked away from the dangers of the outside world. So he takes matters into his own hands.

Breach by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​

The reader finds herself in the Winter Soldier’s cross hairs during a lock down.

I.O.U. by @champangebucky​

Bucky is tired of the youngest Avenger having all of Steve’s attention. 

Trapped by @jennmurawski13​ & @catnip987

After the five other winter soldiers that Hyrda has in cold storage are killed, The Asset is the only one that remains. In order to create more soldiers for their army, they come to the conclusion that they need a young, strong woman to carry his child, bringing forth the new generation of Hydra super soldier. 

Waves That Beat On Heaven’s Shore by @jtargaryen18​

She died in 2014. Bucky had killed her himself as the Winter Soldier. Inexplicably brought back from the snap, he knows it’s only a matter of time before HYDRA catches her. He’s not convinced she knows anything that would earn her protection from SHIELD. Bucky decides to take advantage of the opportunity presented to him and take matters into his own hands

Wicked Game by @salimahbicharara-comun​

Victorian AU. Three months after getting engaged to the elegant but cold Mr. Rogers, you find yourself trapped in the Rogers Manor. Surrounded by nothing but forests and lakes, you were more than enthusiastic when your  fiancé introduced you to his childhood friend; James Barnes. Lonely to no end and accompanied by only the darkness and your thoughts, your nights start to get filled of wicked dreams of a man of blue eyes and a devilish smirk.

Tony Stark

Darling by @ironlady1993​

This will be a dark!story with Non-con Smut in future Chapters. Reader is Tonys Stepdaughter so no Inzest here.

Stucky

Brooklyn’s Sweetheart by @spacesnail3000​

Bucky and Steve had always been meant to keep her safe and happy. As far as anyone else was concerned, that was their sole reason for being alive. Unfortunately, the things that kept her safe were not always the things that kept her happy. Lately, she was making it pretty damn hard for them to compromise.

Brooklyn Syndrome by @lordelannette​

Bucky's back was pressed against the cold floor and he stared through blurry eyes as Steve stood over him. He was trying to push himself as far away as he could, using his hands and bare feet to slide himself out from between Steve's legs but he couldn't find purchase against the wooden floor. Steve's legs were locked on both sides of his hips and Bucky couldn't move, couldn't get away, and the room was swimming before his eyes and he couldn't focus, couldn't think straight. All he could make out was the hazy figure of Steve towering over him and he lifted his arm to push uselessly at Steve's shin. "P-please," Bucky whispered. His voice was weak, like him, and his jaw trembled as Steve reached down. Steve slid down onto the floor and effortlessly gathered him into his strong arms, cradling Bucky to his chest as he leaned against the wall. "Bucky," Steve breathed. One of his large hands slid gently into Bucky's hair, the other curving against his spine and pulling him even closer. "You're mine now, remember?" Steve's grip tightened then it all went black.

Let’s Review by @viciousdenofsacrilege​

Peter Parker knew that his big sister would do anything for him to be safe and happy. She’d given up everything for him twice over already and would do it again in a heartbeat. And that’s why, when the criminal mastermind Tony Stark started inextricably following him around, he didn’t say a word. Because he knew without a doubt Penny would do whatever she had to if it meant keeping Peter safe. He had to protect her, just like she always protected him. He never considered what would happen if Stark decided both Parker siblings were worth taking. Never considered who else in Stark’s inner circle would agree. He just wanted to protect her and yet somehow, they both ended up with needles in their necks. 

My Right To Purge by @theliveshipparagon​

Purge Night starts at Stark Tower

The Game of Hearts by @you-are-my-sanctuary​

After being kidnapped and sold to an underground club, you quickly learn that the only way to survive in The Red Room was to gain the favor of its customers.Popularity among the men of the bar meant everything in this world.It meant you would have a stable income of food, better treatment from the Mistress, better rooms and of course, it meant you wouldn’t be some cheap fuck anyone and everyone could use.It meant the men seeing you would have to be important and wealthy. It meant that they had to be powerful.When it comes to power, no one was as powerful as Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.Brooklyn’s very own Kings.And everyone knows a king needs a queen.So when these two infamous Mob bosses set their smouldring eyes on you, you were sure of one thing:This was going to be the ultimate game of hearts.One you weren’t sure you were going to win.

It’s A Party (Multiple Partners)

Hunger by @searchforanotherway​

You’re camping with your friends. On a hike you are suddenly kidnapped by a man who takes you to a secluded cabin occupied by other men. They call themselves alphas, the only ones of their kind, and they are convinced that they can convert you (a normal human) to an omega in order to carry their young.They groom you and force themselves on you until you take their knot.

Little Pet by @ironlady1993​

non-con, threesome, blackmail, swearing, dark!professor steve , dark!Professor !tony

#mcudarklibrary #dark steve rogers #dark bucky barnes #dark tony stark #dark thor #dark loki #dark clint barton #dark stucky #dark marvel

[agentmarymargaretskitz]

Quoting your idea back to you: "The Time Team ends up in something like the Framework from Agents of SHIELD" (^^)

(The promised blurb that I write while eating dinner, inspired by talk of Timeless, the Boys, and AoS that has chilled me to write)

“How is security for tonight’s event?” Benjamin Cahill asked.

Denise Christopher glanced toward the exits, where agents were already stationed. “All prepared and on alert. We have uniforms and undercover operatives as you requested. They’ve been vetted thoroughly.”

“Excellent,” Cahill smiled. “You’ve been an excellent asset to us. I’m pleased that someone at the department is willing to extend my party the same treatment as the other two.”

“You’re on the ballot, it’s owed.” responded Denise as they passed by the stage. “Good luck out there tonight.”

“Thank you, Agent Christopher. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Cahill walked off, leaving her on her own. Denise turned around and stared at the chairs and bleachers behind her. Banners with the pale gold Rittenhouse Party logo hung from the ceiling. A strange feeling washed over at her, one that made her feel sick looking at those banners. Denise couldn’t stand straight for a moment, nearly dropping to the ground. It was gone as quickly as it passed though. She wasn’t even sure why it had come over her...

~

Jiya flicked through the pages on her desks of memos and to-dos and committee reminders. It looked like another long day at the office, but that was to be expected for her. Then again, she was one of the three Rittenhouse Party representatives, although polls were favorable for more to be joining come the election. The bills she and the other two were planning would be going through easier. 

“Congresswoman Marri?”

She looked up as the door to her office cracked open. “Daniel?”

“Your 9:00 just arrived.”

Jiya smiled and straightened some of the papers on her desks. “Send her in.”

A minute passed before her appointment entered the office. It was enough time for her to take a glance out her office window. It wasn’t the best view, but it was still a beautiful one. It reminded her of what she was working for, what the party was working for.

Wait, what was she-

Her door opened and Jiya turned around to greet her guest with a smile, the strange thought of wrongness leaving her mind. “Hello, Ms. Whitmore.”

~

“Hey, what do you think of this?”

Rufus looked up from his storyboard and notes to see what Niles had done. He was working with the ad for Benjamin Cahill’s campaign. Numbers were good, but you could never be too cautious. Elections had been lost with complacency. 

He watched the clip that Niles had put together. It was good- really good. Niles was good at this stuff. But somehow...Rufus felt sick watching it. Which didn’t make sense, but watching Cahill smile at the end as he approved the message made him shiver.

“Rufus?”

Rufus shook his head, but the wrongness was still there. “It’s good, Niles. Exactly what they’re looking for.”

“Are you okay, man?”

“Yeah, I just need to go take a break.”

Without saying anything else, he walked out the room and towards the bathroom. Once he was inside, Rufus looked at the reflection of himself in the mirror. For a moment, he seemed to be wearing a hoodie and a Star Wars t-shirt instead of a button down with the sleeves rolled up. He shut his eyes, wondering why he would wear something like that in a workplace.

What was happening?

~

“She won’t talk. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“Thanks, Dave,” Wyatt patted him on the shoulder. “How long has she been there?”

“Three days,” Dave shook his head. “And there’s not a peep coming out about the other cells. We know they’re out there.”

“Let me take a crack then.”

Twelve minutes later, Wyatt walked into the interrogation room with a plate of cookies. The woman behind the table glared at him as he entered. He set the plate down and pushed it across to her. Her glare settled on the cookies like they were something offensive.

“You poison these?” she snarled at him. 

“Only the cupcakes have poison,” he smirked. “You’ve been here three days, and I know the food sucks. Luckily, we keep a tube of Nestle in the break room freezer. Not everyone has hot fresh cookies.”

She continued to glare.

“You don’t have to tell me anything about your operations,” Wyatt told her. “Dave like to get right to the point. And being alone in this space...the loneliness really gets to you.”

Her silence persisted, so he tried a different tactic. “My name’s Wyatt, by the way. And you are.”

Finally, she spoke in a hoarse voice. 

“Amy.”

~

Garcia’s eyes darted from side to side. He scanned the crowd as they ran from the doors, hoping that he’d find her. After the day he’s had, all he wanted to do was see her and go home. The card from the Rittenhouse party member was burning in his pocket. 

“We think you’d be an excellent addition to our team.”

“I’m not a politician.”

“But you were NSA. You know government work. Coming back into the fray, helping us roll out the new policy if we get elected...think of the lives that you could save.”

Garcia shuddered again. It had felt wrong, even with the points that were being made. Policies made sense but he had a funny feeling about them. Perhaps it was just the time of year. The election was getting more and more fierce with each day, as were the attacks on the Rittenhouse Party. What if he got caught in one of the attacks? Who would be there for-

“Iris!” he called, catching sight of her long brown braid swinging as she ran towards him. “There you are.”

“Hi, Dad,” she grinned. “Ms. Patterson was explaining our homework so we would be able to understand it.”

“And your dad can’t help with math?” he teased as she opened the car door.

She made a face. “It’s fractions and story problems.”

He chuckled, but somehow he felt sad. It didn’t make sense.

~

“Comfortable, Connor?”

Connor Mason turned away from the window of his “prison”. A gilded cage was perhaps a better description for where Rittenhouse was keeping him. It was as fine as the one he used to own back in reality. The one difference here was that he wasn’t allowed a computer or phone. Rittenhouse had made sure that he wouldn’t be contacting the outside world.

“This technology wasn’t meant to be built,” he muttered. “And especially not for this purpose to test your takeover strategy.”

“It’s alternative use that’s effective for our interests,” Benjamin said. “We make mistakes here, then perfect. You can live years within a minute here, Connor. That’s plenty of time for us, and plenty of time for your ragtag misfits to be swayed to our side.”

Connor chuckled. “So you would think.”

Benjamin’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t have us all.”

~

Lucy stared at the team laying on the hospital beds in a single row. All of them were there, and on the other side were people she didn’t recognize. Were they Rittenhouse, or innocent civilians to be brainwashed? Either way, she wasn’t ready to wake on up and find out. The strange devices attached to their heads reminded her of head massagers, which she was never using again after this. Could they be removed safely or not?

Making her way to end of the row, Lucy took the empty bed beside Garcia and sat down. Remembering how Connor had told them about his prototype, she remembered what she was doing. Whatever fantasy nightmare awaited her, Lucy couldn’t lose sight of her goal. She had to find the way out and free the team.

“Here we go,” she murmured, lowering the device onto her head and closing her eyes.

The switch was instant. A sudden pressure bore down on her whole body. When she tried to scream, something caught in her mouth before she shut it. Her hands were above her somehow and could feel a breeze. She wriggled her arms out and realized she was covered in dirt. Quickly, Lucy scratched her hands at the surface above her head to dig away the dirt. By the time her head came free, she was able to see it was sunset, even though it had been pitch black when she arrived at the facility. 

It took a while longer to pull the rest of her body out of the ground. Her nails were coated with dirt and blood. She spat out the mud that had gotten in her mouth and rolled away from the ground. Glancing over to the hole, a gasp escaped her when she saw what was inside. A skeleton wearing the same clothes she had on now was nestled in the shallow grave.

Someone had killed her in this reality.

Lucy stared for a moment at her alternate self’s body, then pushed the dirt back over it. Once the bones were buried, she stood up and caught sight of a road. She made her way down to it and spotted the lights in the distance. It had been a long time since she had seen Washington DC at night in present day, but she could still recognize it.

“Okay,” she sighed, shaking the dirt out of her hair. “Time to find a ride.”

#ununpredictableme #ask box #timeless #time team #lucy preston #wyatt logan #rufus carlin #jiya marri #denise christopher #connor mason #framework au

[bellemorte180]

Just Good Business: Chapter One

Caroline Salvatore, married into one of New York's most brutal crime families.

Niklaus Mikaelson, a notorious mob boss who is hell bent on taking down the Salvatore brothers.

It's an affair for the ages.

Based on my drabble under the same name.

@itsnotacrimetoloveyou, this is for you

WARNING: There are depictions of graphic violence, sex, suicidal thoughts and domestic abuse. This is not a light and fluffy story.

Chapter One

Caroline looked around the ballroom, seeing the elegance and glamour that lingered from the chandleries to the champagne that flowed in their flutes. New York’s richest gathered in order to flaunt their wealth, make shady deals and cover up their crimes. The party was nothing more than various alibis for a series of crimes that were bound to happen in the early hours of the morning. She used to love these parties, but that was before she realized what these people were capable of. What she was capable of.

She picked up her own glass and drank the champagne but the taste seemed lacking to her; much like everything else in her life. To the world at large, she lived in a big mansion with a rich husband and connections that reached farther than the average person. What Caroline saw was a gilded cage and a pillow made of silk, suffocating the life out of her.

She was Caroline Salvatore; Upper East Side Socialite married to one of the richest men in the city. Friends from the richest of families that cared little for her. A life everyone dreamed about.

As she downed the rest of her drink, allowing the alcohol to fog up her senses, she saw a hand outstretch to her. She looked over and saw her husband, Stefan Salvatore. He was handsome, she supposed but then again, she found nothing redeemable about him. He cared little for her and she cried as she walked down the aisle to him. The moment their names were etched onto the marriage certificate, he locked her away in a glamorous hell that Caroline had no means of escaping. He would kill her first if she even dared tried.

“Dance with me.” Stefan demanded. Caroline placed her glass down on the table and linked her hand with his. He led her to the dance-floor. He took her into his arms and spun her around, pretending to be the devoted husband he promised her mother he would be. “You’re not smiling. We cannot have our friends thinking our marriage is in trouble.”

“Friends? You don’t have friends.” Caroline replied and Stefan’s grip grew tighter. She knew that if he didn’t let go of her soon, his fingers would leave bruise marks on her skin. It wouldn’t be the first time and there were times that Caroline wished he would cross that line; kill her and be done with it.

“Enemies then.” Stefan retorted and it took everything in Caroline not to roll her eyes at him. “We are surrounded by people who given the right opportunity, would love to strike us down. Now, I need my wife to be happy. If you’re not smiling, laughing and being the social butterfly, I was promised when we married last year, our enemies will know that this is nothing more than a sham.”

And it was. Their marriage was nothing more than a business transaction that neither of them wanted. However, her mother needed some of her less than savory dealings covered up in order to stay Chief of Police and the Salvatore brothers were more than willing to oblige…. for a price. They wanted an in with the police and who better than the Chief? Caroline was nothing more than a bargaining chip; a life long hostage handed over for safe keeping to ensure that Elizabeth Forbes stayed in line.

“No. We wouldn’t want that.” Caroline forced a smile on her face. Stefan laughed and she could see that twinkle in his eye that he used moments before he killed. The Ripper. Untouchable. Uncontrollable. A man who thrived on the kill; and that man spun her around as though she was nothing more than a rag doll. “Better?”

“Perfect.” His voice was harsh and cold but Caroline had grown us to that by now. It was the only tone he ever used with her. “Now. I have a business meeting tonight. I won’t be home till late. Don’t wait up.”

Stefan leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips before leaving her on the dance-floor. Seconds after his eyes were off of her, Caroline felt her mask fall. She saw a waiter walk by and she grabbed another glass of champagne. She weaved her way through the crowed. Passing ‘friends’ along the way such as Aurora de Martel or Haley Marshall; two-woman Stefan approved of because neither one asked to many questions. She saw Elena and Damon, dancing, drinking and laughing. They seemed perfect together but Caroline knew more. Damon was calculating and willing to do whatever it took to protect what was his. Elena was his; but there was something false behind Elena’s smiles. She was selfish in a way that made Caroline’s head spin. Their marriage was as much as a sham as Caroline’s. The terrifying part was that Damon did not realize it.

Not wanting to see the sight of them, she made her way through and unopened door. She wondered down the hall of the Four Season until she reached a utility door with the bright red words of exit’ hanging above the door. On a whim, Caroline pushed the door open and entered the stairway. She went up and up until she couldn’t anymore. She tried the door at the very top and to her surprise it was unlocked. It was the rooftop.

Caroline took in the view of the city. Even in darkest places of her mind, she could not help but admit that New York was beautiful. There was a life to it that was vibrant and pulsing. Especially at night when the city lights illuminated the buildings and the people. Caroline drained her glass and tossed it to the side, hearing the glass shatter on the ground. She kicked off her heels, allowing her feet to touch the concrete and walked toward the edge. She looked down the fifty-two stories.

Stefan and Damon wanted to paint a picture of the perfect life for the world to see. Both brothers happily married to beautiful women. Caroline wondered what the world would think if they found Caroline’s body on the ground after jumping those fifty-two stories. It would be instantaneous; hitting the ground. It would be better than suffering the life she had now. It would also show the world that maybe something was not right with the Salvatore brothers.

Caroline, carefully, eased her way up onto the ledge and looked down. It was high up and she could feel the wind of the cool February air. She was cold but she did not care. Her gown was a held up by thin white straps. Her bodice made of white lace while her deep navy skirt with a slit up the side. She looked beautiful and for a moment she wondered if her corpse would be gorgeous once it hit the ground. She didn’t care. If it put a notch in taking down Stefan, then her death would be worth something.

“Are you sure you want to do that Sweetheart?” A voice sounded from behind her. She turned to look over her shoulder and saw a handsome man standing behind her. He was in a tux, much like the rest of the men at the party. Stefan always spent a large amount of time on his hair but this man allowed his blonde locks loose. He was looking at her with curiosity; a look that alarmed Caroline slightly.

She knew exactly who he was.

Klaus Mikaelson. Head of the Mikaelson crime family and possibly the most dangerous man in this city. She had seen him from afar and heard Damon curse him enough times to know that he was no friend to either Stefan or Damon.

“What does it matter to you?”

“A beautiful woman like yourself contemplating taking her life?” Klaus walked up to the edge and leaned against it. “I think that matters to me greatly.”

“Why? Would you rather push me yourself?”

“I could.” Caroline tensed. He would do it to. He would push her and turn around, not thinking twice. If Caroline was going to die, she wanted it to be on her terms. She refused to be a pawn in this feud any longer. “If you really want me to. If you believe that your life has no meaning. I thought about it myself once or twice over the years, truth be told. But I’ll let you in on a little secret, there is a whole world out there waiting for you. Great cities and art and music and genuine beauty. And you can have it all. All you have to do is ask.”

“Ask what?” Caroline bit back. The life he painted was one she once craved. She wanted to have the world at her fingertips, not locked away; a doll only brought out to be paraded around before being tossed aside. The fire in her tone caused Klaus to smile, dimples appearing on his cheeks that made him look far more handsome than before. He held out his hand to her.

“Dance with me.” Caroline looked at his outstretched hand and much like she had done earlier in the evening with Stefan, she placed her hand into his; Klaus helped her off the ledge. He pulled her into his arms and despite the fact that there was no music. His touch was gentle and calming. Caroline felt more at home in his arms than she did of the man she married.

“Do you know who I am?” She whispered.

“You’re Caroline Salvatore, formally Forbes. The wife of Stefan Salvatore. Married just over a year and what a happy marriage it must be if it has you up here contemplating taking your own life.”

“Instead I’m dancing on a roof top with his biggest rival.” Caroline whispered. “Why?”

“So, you have heard of me.” His smile grew wide as though he was proud at the fact that she knew he was a killer, drug lord, king pin or some other name given to those who run and operate a crime family. She knew that he had fingers in all sorts of business; such as that his brother was high up in the FBI and that his reach stretched far beyond New York. He was everything Damon wanted to be and everything he wasn’t. “I followed you up here because I think you and I have a mutual interest.”

“Oh really? And what is that?”

“We both want the Salvatore brother’s dead.” Caroline froze in his arms and her eyes shot up to his. “Come now Sweetheart. We both know it is true. You never wanted to be married to him and are looking for a way out. I’m offering you one. It may not be as instantaneous as jumping from a ledge but the outcome will be far sweeter.” Klaus stepped away and brought her hand to his lips. “Thank on it, love and I’ll see you soon.”

With that, Klaus dropped her hand and headed toward the stairway that lead back down to the party. Caroline watched after him, feeling a slight crack in her prison walls as he went. She looked over to the ledge again, debating. She turned away, bent down and slipped on her shoes. Klaus saw Caroline rejoin the party and a look passed between them; a mutual understanding.

In the wee hours of the morning, Caroline laid in bed thinking about Klaus’s offer. She wanted out of this marriage and divorce was not an option. Her mind turned with the possibility but Caroline just did not know if it was worth the risk. If she betrayed them, she was dead; her mother would be dead and the little Caroline cared for would crumble. Then there was that part of her brain that couldn’t but start the stirrings of desire. A desire to be free.

Before she was able to ponder her fate longer, she heard the bedroom door open. She sat up in bed to see Stefan looking at her. She reached over and turned on the bedside lamp. The light shined and Caroline had to withhold her scream. From head to toe, Stefan was covered in blood. He cocked his head to the side and she could see the mania behind his eyes.

“Come.” Caroline followed his instructions and pulled herself out of the bed. She walked over to him and once she reached him, Stefan placed his hands on her hips; spinning her around. He inhaled the scent of her hair before he tailed a string of kisses down her neck; and Caroline let him. She laid willing for him, as she had always done before. This time was different.

Stefan never fucked her while wearing his victims’ blood before.

In the morning, Caroline cleaned herself the best she could. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she could still feel Stefan’s hands on her and him inside of her, reliving his blood-lust. It made her stomach turn and she needed to get out of the house. She grabbed her bag and coat but when she opened the bedroom door, Stefan stood on the other side of it.

“Where are you going?” Stefan asked in his typical bored voice. In truth, he could care less what she did as long as she stayed in line. As long as she continued to be controllable.

“I don’t know. Shopping maybe. I just need to get out of the house.” Caroline replied. Stefan looked down at her as though he was searching for something; waiting for her to do something. After a moment, he nodded his head and let her pass.

“Take Enzo with you.” With that, Stefan entered their bedroom and closed the door behind him. Enzo. Her ever present bodyguard. In truth, Caroline did not mind Enzo. He was funny and genially tried to make her smile. He let slip once that he didn’t like how Stefan treated her; having found her crying one to many times or cleaned her up when Stefan got too rough. The catch was, he was on Damon’s payroll and betraying his employer was a one-way ticket to an early grave.

Caroline searched out Enzo, telling him she needed to get out of the house and that he was to accompany her. As she climbed into the back of the car, she saw Damon and Elena’s car pull into the drive. She wondered what they were doing there so early but Caroline did not care. She needed to put some distance between herself and Stefan.

“Where to Gorgeous?”

“Anywhere. I don’t care.” Enzo nodded and pulled out of the drive and into calm street of their New York suburb. He drove into the city and Caroline was so lost in her own thoughts that she did not notice that they were in a bad part of town. Enzo pulled into a back alleyway and it wasn’t until the car stopped that Caroline paused. “Where are we?” “You’ll see.” Enzo got out of the car and opened her door, holding out his hand to help her.

“Did Stefan order you to kill me?”

“Even if he did, I wouldn’t.” Enzo smiled at her and she believed him. If anything, he would warn her and let her fake her death. She almost wished Stefan ordered a hit on her and Enzo has her hit man. Caroline looked up to the old abandoned warehouse and rolled her eyes. Enzo led her to a door and opened it. “I promise you; no harm will come to you inside. I won’t let it.”

Caroline nodded and she stepped forward. It was dark inside but there were a few florescent lights that hung from the ceiling, casting enough light to create more shadows. She walked forward, listening to her heels hit the concrete flooring. Enzo walked beside her, seemingly completely at ease. Once the reached a bit further into the warehouse, a man moved out from behind a pillar.

“Klaus.” Caroline whispered.

“Thank you, Enzo, for informing me that Caroline would have a moment alone.” Klaus spoke to other man and Caroline’s eyes traveled between the two of them. She could not fathom what was happening. Enzo worked for her husband and brother-in-law but if he was having dealings with Klaus…

“What?”

“Damon and Stefan are not the only ones who pay me Gorgeous.” Enzo drawled out. He tilted his head towards Klaus. “I work for Klaus.”

“I hired Enzo specifically to infiltrate the Salvatore home. He has been my man for years and when he fed me some interesting information on the state of your marriage, it made me wonder if perhaps, you and I could come to an agreement.” Klaus replied. “I was honest with you last night Sweetheart. We want the same thing.”

“I don’t want to be a pawn in anyone’s game.” Caroline hissed out. She glared at Enzo, not believing what he was bringing into her life. He was risking his life by spying on Stefan and Damon. There was something more in it for him than money. Enzo was not foolish enough to be a double agent without leverage. She could easily turn in him and he would be dead before sunrise. She wouldn’t but the fact that she could was present in the back of her mind. “Not even yours.”

“I know.” Klaus signed. He reached inside his coat jacket and pulled out a small manila envelope. He gave her a pitying look and she could not see the reason behind it. “After the gala last night. Where did your husband go?”

“I don’t know.” Caroline replied, the memory of Stefan covered in blood focused in her mind again. Klaus gave her a sad smile and walked over to her. He handed her the envelope and with hesitant hands, she took it from him. Inside were a series of pictures; pictures of her mother. The scene was bloody and horrifying. Elizabeth Forbes’s head was completely detached from her body and blood was spattered across the room. She knew what that meant. She knew his signature. The memory of Stefan inside her mere hours earlier flashed before her. The blood he wore while he fucked her was her mother’s. “I’m going to be sick.”

She dropped the pictures and ran over to a pillar. She dry-heaved and coughed up the bile that formed in her throat. A hand came up from behind her and pulled the hair from her face. It wasn’t Enzo. The smell of the cologne was different. She turned her head slightly and saw Klaus staring at her. He wore a sympathetic look upon his feathers that Caroline wondered was genuine.

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart.”

“Why? Why did he do this?”

“From what I know, your mother went back on a deal she had with the Salvatore’s. She stepped out of the line they drew for her.” Klaus replied and Caroline closed her eyes. Her mother made her bed and now Caroline was going to face the consequences. She looked at the pictures lying on the ground, knowing that the memory of them would live with her forever. “Stefan went to her last night to…. settle things. I was not made aware of her death until after it happened.”

“And what do you want from me?”

“The same thing I said to you on that rooftop.”

“Bullshit.” Caroline hissed out and Klaus eyed her. He could see the fire behind her ice blue eyes. Enzo reported a lifeless woman who was trapped in a cage, needing to find a way out. He certainly saw her desperation when she stood on that ledge but there was more to Caroline than he realized. She had a quick mind behind that beautiful face and a fire that burned under her skin. She was far stronger than anyone gave her credit for. Klaus quickly found himself wanting to know more.

“Now, now. I’ve killed people for less than the way you just spoke to me.” Caroline’s gaze did not waiver. He could kill her right now and she honestly did not care in that moment. The one person she still cared for was dead. The fact that she did not fear death intrigued him. He had killed many people and they all begged; but it appeared that Caroline would not be one of them. That earned his respect. “My brother Kol was murdered six months ago.”

“I know.” Caroline replied. Stefan and Damon threw a party at his death; a crack in the Mikaelson family, something very hard to do. While they did not murder Kol directly, Damon hired Jeremy Gilbert to do it for them. It was a job they did not trust just anyone to carry out such an important task. No. They hired Elena’s hitman of a brother to do it instead. “The celebration they threw lasted days. I thought it was cruel.”

There was a flash in Klaus’s eyes; something fierce. She could see the monster lingering beneath his beautiful face but she could see that his rage was not directed at her. She knew what a monster looked like who hated her. She slept in his bed every night.

“I want them dead. They took my brother so I plan to take everything from them. Slowly.” Klaus gave Caroline a sinister smile. “I’ve already started. A few financial deals here. A side business there. Damon isn’t as smart as he thinks he is.”

“And where do I play into this?”

“Information.”

“I don’t know anything. As you know, Stefan and I are not on the best of terms.”

“You know more than you think. Much like Enzo, you would filter information to me when you learn it. Your job would be to observe in the only way a wife can and in return, I’ll help you get out of this marriage you despise.” Caroline looked at him and she knew she was contemplating it. “Not now. Think on it. Let me know when you’ve made a decision. But think on this Sweetheart. Wouldn’t you want to revenge on the man who murdered your mother?”

“We should go.” Enzo replied and Caroline nodded. She gave Klaus a look, searching him. She could see that this was far more personal than he was saying. This went far beyond Kol’s death. Klaus was going to rain blood down on this city and one way or another, Caroline was going to be caught in the middle of it.

“Think on it Sweetheart, but know this. While you husband was murdering your mother last night; I was committing a murder of my own.” Caroline shot him a confused look but allowed Enzo to usher her outside and into the car. As she sat in the back of the car, her mind raced.

Her mother was dead. Murdered. Tears fell down her cheeks as her grief took her over. She didn’t hear Enzo’s soothing words from the driver’s seat or see the scenery passing by. Before she realized it, they had pulled into the drive of the home she shared with Stefan; but Caroline could not move. She just continued to cry. When she was able to calm her self down, Enzo opened the door.

The scene Caroline walked into could only be described as chaos. Elena was wailing on the ground, Damon holding her close to his chest. Stefan was looking at the scene in completely fury. Caroline wondered what Stefan would give to be in Damon’s place. By the number of times Stefan whispered Elena’s name in her ear after sex, it did not take a genius to figure out that Stefan was in love with his brother’s wife.

Caroline spotted a series of photos scattered across the floor. She walked slowly over to one and Klaus’s voice rang loud and clear in her ear. While you husband was murdering your mother last night; I was committing a murder of my own. The pictures showed a mutilated body, hanging spread eagle on a giant plank in the shape of a ‘x’.

Jeremy Gilbert was dead. A giant ‘M’ carved into his chest.

She felt Stefan’s presence behind her. She turned to look at him. He saw her bloodshot eyes and her reddened face. He studied her and as always, Caroline wondered what he found when he seemingly peered into, he soul.

“You know. About Elizabeth?”

“Yes. I just heard.”

“It was unavoidable.” With no sympathy, Stefan turned from her and walked over to Elena. She was still screaming in agony, clutching at her brown hair. Damon was whispering to her. The look of compassion he gave Elena caused Caroline’s fury to increase. “This was all Klaus Mikaelson. I promise you we will take him down for this. I will hand you his head on a silver platter.”

Within the next several days, Caroline buried her mother. Elizabeth Forbes had been the Chief of Police and the manner of her death caused a media stir. Caroline found no peace and her funeral was very public. The wake that was held at her home with Stefan felt more like a media circus than a goodbye to her mother. Stefan stayed by her side the entire time, playing the loving husband the entire time. He told the concerned onlookers what a tragedy had befallen their family. He touched the small of her back or held her hand. Each touch made Caroline’s skin burn in anger.

She wanted to claw Stefan’s eyes out from his head. She wanted to hurt him in the worst way possible. Her grief was turning into anger and Caroline found that she was able to hang onto that. She plotted but kept her mask in place. She knew she needed to strike at Stefan and the only way possible to do that would be to do one thing that would hurt him the most; it was a plan that Caroline clung to.

The only relief she found was that Elena couldn’t publicly mourn Jeremy. Jeremy Gilbert was a known fugitive and as far as New York knew, he was still on the run and the siblings were on bad terms. Jeremy was the bad apple while Elena the saint. So, Elena was forced to pretend that her brother was alive but his whereabouts unknown while watching Caroline publicly mourn her loss.

Caroline received all the sympathy.

Caroline was the one who had ability to have a funeral.

Caroline was smiled upon as though she was the center of the universe for a short while.

It was petty but Caroline enjoyed watching Elena’s anger at the fact that she couldn’t show her grief for her brother. It also was tempting to smile when an arrangement of flowers, rubbing salt into Elena’s wound.

I’m sorry for your losses. K. M.

In that moment, Caroline made her decision. She knew what her answer was. Once the last person from the wake left her house and Stefan was able to drop the act of being the worried husband, Caroline could not stand looking at any of them for another second.

“I need to go.” She reached for her purse, not carrying that she was still in the tight black dress and stilettos. She looked the part of a wealthy woman of the Upper East Side who was in mourning. She looked the part and could care less if it was bad timing. She should change at the very least; shed the mourning clothes from her body. Instead she grabbed her thick black coat and slipped it on.

“Go where?” Stefan asked.

“I don’t know. I just need to think.”

“You’re staying.”

“Let her go Stefan.” Elena’s voice chimed in. Her tone had a dead ring to it. It wasn’t that Elena was looking at her cruelly, but just in annoyance. Elena and Caroline’s relationship had always been complicated. Neither one would call it friendship, although to the outside world Elena claimed to be Caroline’s best friend. They smiled and laughed together when the cameras were on them but pulled apart the moment they turned away. “She just lost her mom. She is grieving.”

“Take Enzo with you.” Stefan commanded, never being able to deny Elena anything. Enzo, who was standing in earshot appeared quickly and followed Caroline out of the house. She was moving like a bat out of hell and just needed to get away from that house. She slid into the back of the car, calming her breath as best as she could.

“Where to?”

“You know where.” Enzo nodded and drove. He drove for a good while, ensuring that they were not being followed. Damon and Stefan were distracted so it was unlikely they would put anyone else on their trail but Enzo was a professional. He was always precise so he pulled into a parking garage. They got out of the car and Enzo led Caroline to a second vehicle. This was a big SUV, different from the town cars Stefan and Damon preferred to use. More importantly; it wasn’t tracked.

Enzo drove her across town to a tall building. Much like before, he pulled into a parking garage but this time they did not switch cars. He led her to an elevator and pulled out his phone. He punched in a code that had been sent to him and the elevator lifted upward. Once at the top, the doors opened and Caroline realized where she was.

Klaus’s office.

Klaus was standing on the other side perched on the side of his desk. He was unsurprised to see her but then again, she saw Enzo texting on an unfamiliar phone. Klaus was expecting her and Caroline just strolled into his office; never removing her eyes from him.

The office was massive. Windows on one wall that stood from floor to ceiling, providing Klaus with an amazing view of the city. Caroline looked around and saw priceless works of art on the walls. The furniture was expensive and Caroline could not help but applaud the man’s taste. This was where Klaus played with people’s lives; who lived and who died. A shell company much like Stefan and Damon’s, only far older and far more powerful.

“Leave us Enzo.” Caroline commanded. Enzo looked between Klaus and Caroline, unsure if he should leave her alone. Klaus however, nodded to the other man and waited for Enzo to head back down the elevator. Klaus pushed away from the desk and walked over to a bar cart. He poured two tumblers of bourbon and handed her one. Caroline took a few sips before turning back to Klaus, who had been silent but watched her like a hawk. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

“You want to strike at Damon for ordering the hit on your brother.” She took another sip. “Because we both know it was Damon who ordered it, it’s why you’re keener on him than anyone else.”

“Damon flaunted that he was the one who hired the Gilbert boy to murder my brother. Yes.” His eyes lingered over her and she could see the desire pooling in his eyes. He found her fascinating. The entire city had eyes on Caroline since the news of Elizabeth’s murder rang through the streets. An investigation was formed but would go nowhere; they both knew that. The mystery of her death would remain unsolved. Along with the rest of the city, Klaus was watching her; gazing at the woman who could put on the best act of them all.

“And sending him Jeremy Gilbert’s body as a message had the desire effect. I can assure you that.” Klaus cocked his eyebrow at her. She knew that he was aware that using Jeremy would send the desired message to Damon. A message stating that Klaus was coming for him but the truth was far darker than Klaus realized and Caroline was going to spell it out for him. “But I don’t think you realize just how far you went in sending that message.”

“Then tell me.”

“After we met that morning at the warehouse, I went home. I was grieving over my dead mother and when I walked into my front door, I found Elena in my sitting room, wailing as though her heart was being ripped from her chest. Damon was playing the good husband and comforting her.” Caroline rolled her eyes and Klaus’s lips perked up at her annoyance. “Stefan saw it immediately. He knew that I was aware of my mother’s death. He told me it was ‘unavoidable’.”

“Go on.”

“He showed me no remorse or sympathy. He came home that night and fucked me while he still had my mother’s blood on his skin.” Klaus’s eyebrows shot up at that but said nothing. Caroline could not help but notice how his grey-blue eyes grew a hint darker. “He simply walked away from me and then bent down to comfort Elena. He promised to hand your head to her on a silver platter.”

“Interesting.” She could see the calculation behind Klaus’s eyes. What Klaus wanted from her was an understanding on what went on behind closed doors in the Salvatore home. There was only so much Enzo could give him from a business standpoint but Klaus wanted more. He wanted the most personal information on the brothers in order to strike where it hurt the hardest. “And why would Stefan be more concerned with Elena’s pain than his wife’s.”

“Because he is in love with her.” Caroline replied in a matter of fact tone. Klaus stood straighter at that and she could see the million possibilities running through his mind. This he had not known. “The key to destroying all that the Salvatore brother’s hold dear is Elena. You have both of them gunning for your head because you made her cry.”

“Well that is interesting. Perhaps I should just have her killed?”

“You could but that isn’t smart and you know it.”

“Do I?” Klaus asked, testing her; seeing how her beautiful mind worked.

“Kill Elena and all you will have is two very pissed off Salvatore brothers on your hand. They will band together in their grief and strike at you and hard. Nothing is as powerful as the feeling of revenge. Kill Elena and Damon and Stefan will become your worst nightmare.” Klaus was smiling widely at her, a hint of pride etched in his eyes. “But you knew that.”

“Then what is our plan?” Klaus asked. He was testing her, seeing how her mind worked. Typically, Caroline hated being toyed with; she got enough of that at home. However, she wanted to prove to someone that she was more than just a pretty face.

“Turn brother against brother. Use Elena.” Caroline paused. “I don’t know how yet but Elena is the key in doing so. Both love her and both want her. I don’t know if Stefan and Elena are sleeping together but I’ll find out.”

“Then we have a deal.” Klaus stepped towards her and peered down at her. He took the glass from her hand and drank the remanding amber liquid. He was gazing at her and Caroline would not look away. The woman who wanted to jump from that roof top still lingered but he saw the truth behind why she wanted to jump. It wasn’t just a death wish, she wanted to strike at Stefan and Damon in the only way she could. “And what is it that you want in return for this information, Sweetheart.”

Caroline reached up and placed her hands on his chest. She eased out a few crinkles in his crisp white shirt. She could feel his muscles behind his shirt tense at the feeling of her fingertips caress him. She peaked at him from behind her eyelashes.

“Stefan hates you with a passion right now. Cursing your name every time he looks at Elena’s sad eyes. There is a fire burning in him to see you dead.” Klaus seemed amused at that. “What I want is petty and selfish and wrong on so many levels.”

“Say it.”

“I want to go to sleep every night knowing that I’ve fucked the one man who my husband hates most in the world.” There was a crackle between them that fizzled and popped. Both understood what this was. Caroline wanted in his bed for the soul purpose of being able to look at Stefan, knowing that she fucked the one man he wanted dead. It was a sort of petty revenge she needed in order to strike back from her mother’s murder and at the moment, this was the best possible way to do that.

For Klaus, it was one in the same. What was the best leverage over a man than bedding his wife? Sure, Stefan could care less for Caroline but she was his. His toy and his property. He wouldn’t take kindly to knowing that Klaus had been inside his wife; touched his wife and even less if she enjoyed it. Klaus would ensure that she did…she would feel every inch of it, cry out his name. Then when Stefan bedded his wife, she would close her eyes and imagine that it was Klaus touching her.

“You’re playing with fire, love.”

“I don’t care.” Fire burned in Klaus’s eyes and the dam broke. He leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to Caroline’s lips. Caroline knew that this could end badly for her. Either Stefan could find out she betrayed him and kill her or Klaus betrayed her and she would meet the same end with different means. That didn’t faze her. It wasn’t enough for her to give up the fact that she would have this moment.

Caroline dug her nails into his chest, dragging them down his shirt. She pulled the shirt from his trousers and ripped it open; buttons scattering across the hardwood floor. Klaus tossed it aside and pulled his undershirt over his head. Caroline’s lips latched onto his bare skin, tasting him. Her teeth nipped at his nipple while his hands moved the zipper at the back of her dress. He pulled it down and Caroline felt her dress sage on her shoulders. She pushed the dress down and let it pool at her feet.

Klaus eyed her with anticipation. She was a beautiful woman and he would have wanted to fuck her either way. Her being Stefan’s wife was just the cherry on top a very delectable cake. Her bra and panties were a simple black but matched with her black pump and the sight sent blood rushing to his penis. She shot him a coy look, she knew that he was finding her desirable and having lacked that look from a man in so long, it was addicting.

Caroline reached behind her and unhooked her bra, allowing it to fall to the floor. Klaus, unable to help himself, palmed her breasts; his nails gracing over her erect nipple. Caroline hissed at the contact, causing Klaus to do it again.

“Heels stay on.” Klaus commanded and Caroline chuckled. She reached for his belt, slowly undoing it but Klaus stopped her. “Not this time love. Perhaps another time.”

“Cocky much? Who says this is not just a one-time thing?” Caroline teased him, her fingers running along the skin just underneath his trousers. Instead of answering her, Klaus lifted her up; causing Caroline to squeak in surprise. She wrapped her legs around his waist, arching her back and pressing her breasts against his naked chest. Klaus’s lips latched onto her and kissed her while he walked them towards his desk. He knocked the files and pictures onto the ground, neither caring about the sound of shattering glass.

“Because once I’m done with you Sweetheart, you’ll come back begging for more.” He sat her down on the desk and kissed his way down her neck. His teeth nipped and sucked at her chest and Caroline spread her legs, allowing him easier access to her body. She leaned back on her forearms and watched as his head dipped lower and lower. “Tell me, when was the last time you enjoyed sex?”

“It’s been awhile.” Klaus’s eyes peaked up at her, and cocked his eyebrow. “Stefan is not very kind in the bedroom…in more ways than one.” Klaus chuckled and Caroline could feel the vibrations against her skin. They both knew what she was not saying. Caroline hated Stefan and sleeping with him was torture. There was no arousal or pleasure in the act but she had no choice.

“And here he is, a bigger fool than I realized.” Klaus grabbed her leg and outstretched it. His lips kissed her ankle as he admired her long, toned legs and the stiletto attached to them. Klaus apparently was a leg man. His hands ran down the length of them until he reached the edges of her panties. He hooked his fingers into the crotch, gracing her clit as he went. Caroline whimpered at the slight brush and her reaction pleased him; making him brush against it a second time just to make her squirm. He pulled her panties down her legs and took them into his hand; bringing them to his nose. He inhaled her scent while his eyes devoured the sight of her naked and spread across his desk. He pocked her panties and knelt before her. “Let’s make up for lost time, shall we.”

His fingers traced the length of her slit, spreading her juices. Caroline cried out at the contact. He slipped one finger into her and then another. He pumped them in and out of her before bringing his lips to her clit. His tongue licked the length of her before he began circling her bundle of nerves.

“God! Klaus!” Caroline cried out his name, not caring who heard. No one saw her enter his office. For all his staff knew outside his office door was that Klaus was having sex with someone behind it but the who remained a mystery. She assumed that they were paid well enough not to care. She continued to watch him lick and suck her while she felt that tension build up inside her. It had been a long while since she felt any sort of relief and it snapped inside of her like glass breaking against a wall. It shattered her. She screamed and cried out illegible things that she couldn’t remember when she came to.

“Seeing you come undone…you’re beautiful.” Klaus whispered and stood up from in-between her legs. Caroline sat up and reached for his belt. Like she attempted to do before, she pulled the offending leather from Klaus’s pants loops; putting it out with a snap. She tossed the belt to the floor and unbuttoned his pants, shoving them down to his ankles. “Condom?”

“Birth control.” Caroline replied, gripping Klaus in her hand. He hissed at the contact. She began to stroke him, watching as his jaw clenched tightly. His hands gripped her hips roughly and there was a brief second, she wondered if his hands would leave a bruise. “Gentle now. Can’t leave marks, now can we?” Klaus’s hands loosed and she cupped his balls as a reward, massaging them lightly. “Stefan does not want kids so, can’t risk pregnancy. So, I get a shot in my arm every three months, so unless you have some disease that I need to be worried about? Because I’m clean. Trust me. I’ve checked.”

“Clean bill of health Sweetheart.”

“Then get inside me.” Caroline lined his penis up with her entrance and Klaus pushed inside. The feeling of him stretching her and filling her was incredible. He was bigger than Stefan so there were muscles that were stretched that she was not used to. Klaus wrapped his arms around her, pressing her to him. Slowly, he withdrew before pushing back in. The first few strokes where leisurely but as their rhythm began to build, his thrusts picked up. “Faster. Harder”

The desk under them creaked and groaned. The slapping of skin could be heard as Klaus pounded into her. Caroline’s nails dug down his back, leaving marks that that they both knew would take a few days to fade. She could feel herself building towards her peak again and Klaus could sense that she was the verge of another orgasm. He reached between them and rubbed her clit. Her walls clenched and Caroline was pushed off that cliff again. A few more pumps and Klaus followed suit.

Once their breathing calmed down, Klaus slipped out of her and Caroline whimpered at the loss. She sat there for a second and watched as Klaus bent down and pulled his trousers up his legs. Caroline held out her hand and Klaus just cocked an eyebrow at her in question.

“My panties.”

“Oh, no Sweetheart. I’m keeping those.”

“Seriously!” Caroline huffed in mock frustration causing him to chuckle. He looked her over, apprising her still naked body; seemingly way too proud for her liking. She rolled her eyes and stood from the desk. “Fine. Pull the alpha man act.”

Klaus all but doubled over in laughter as she picked up her bra, putting it on before stepping back into her black dress. She turned her back to him and pointed at the dress. Klaus stepped forward and zipped up the dress, his fingers gracing her back as he went. Despite what they had just done, the touch sent shivers down Caroline’s spine. Klaus leaned down and she felt his hot breath on her ear.

“There is no act, love. I am the alpha male.” Caroline turned to look at him and made a point to roll her eyes again. He was amused; his smile was wide and his eyes sparkled with mischief. He was content and there was something about him made Caroline want to please him again. She wanted to fuck him in order to get back at Stefan and now she realized she wanted to do it again for the sole purpose that he felt good.

Klaus pulled away from her and went to pick up his cell phone, stepping over glass that had shattered from a few of his picture frames that had been on his desk. Caroline spotted a mirror on the far wall near his office. Her hair was a mess. She scowled and pulled it from her bun. She ran her fingers through it and deciding to let it hang loose. She watched Klaus send a text message before walking over to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close as they listened to the sound of the elevator rising again.

“Until next time, Sweetheart.” Klaus kissed the side of her neck before pulling away; just in time for the elevator to ding and Enzo to step out. Enzo halted slightly, taking in the sight of the office. He was intelligent enough not to say anything but seeing the contents of Klaus’s desk on the floor and the smell of sex hanging in the hair; not the mention the fact that Klaus was shirtless, he knew exactly what had occurred.

Caroline just tossed him a cheek grin before heading to the elevator, swaying her hips ever so slightly as she went; knowing full well that Klaus was watching her. Enzo followed her inside and the moment the door closed on them; he just turned his head to look at her with a worried expression on his face.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game Gorgeous.”

“And you’re not?” Caroline retorted. Enzo just shrugged.

“I didn’t just fuck the devil.”

“Oh, shut up.” Caroline bit out. “Why are you doing this? Playing both sides, I mean? If Damon or Stefan learned that you were feeding information to Klaus or even that you brought me to see if, twice. They’d kill you. And don’t feed me some line about the money being good. I’m too smart for that.”

“It amazes me that neither Stefan nor Damon realize how smart you actually are.” Enzo muttered but refused to say more and Caroline was not going to push him. She just wanted to make a point. They walked across the parking garage and she climbed into the SUV. It wasn’t until they were sitting in traffic and Caroline was scrolling through her phone that Enzo spoke again. “Her name is Bonnie.”

“What?”

“My girl. Bonnie. She has a rare genetic disease. I couldn’t afford to get her the treatment she needs.” Caroline wilted ever so slightly. She did not know much about Enzo or the fact that he had a life apart from bloodshed and deception. “Klaus has connections. Vast connections. I provide him with whatever he needs and he ensures that Bonnie gets everything she needs to manage her condition. So yeah. It is not about the money.”

Caroline had nothing say. It made sense to her why Enzo did what he did but what amazed her was Klaus. She knew that he wasn’t providing, what Caroline assumed to be expensive medical care, out of the goodness of his heart. She could not begin to imagine what Enzo has done for Klaus to receive that kind of payment.

A second later, Caroline’s phone buzzed revealing an unknown number.

Thank you for today Sweetheart.

Caroline smiled but quickly deleted the message.

#klaroline fanfiction #klaus x caroline #fanfiction #klaus mikaelson #caroline forbes

[gerec]

I started this short fic for a prompt by the lovely @irelise for Secret Mutant, but sadly couldn’t get it finished on time :(  Going to post the first half of it here, and hopefully finish the rest of it as I also try to wrap up my ‘Call Me By Your Name’ au ASAP lol. 

Shaw/Erik, historical/concubine au

The carriage came for Erik mid-morning, clattering through the mud caked streets of Varre, winding its way through the tiny village behind a contingent of the King’s personal guard. It was a rare sight outside the Capital to see so much gleaming armor and polished gold, His Majesty’s colours flying high above the standard that fluttered against the early summer breeze. The pageantry attracted all - the young and the old, the poor and the destitute - until the entire village seemed to trail behind the procession as it halted outside the smithy door.

His mother guided him away from the window when the Captain dismounted and knocked, motioning for Erik to stand beside his older sister. Ruth squeezed his hand reassuringly in an attempt to sooth his nerves, though her lopsided grin did not quite reach her eyes. His father hovered protectively like a sentinel behind his two children, his frustration palpable as the door opened and the king’s man stepped inside.

“Captain,” Edie said, and though she bowed her head to him in deference the chill of disdain in her voice was clear to all. “Be welcome in our humble home. Can I offer you refreshment?”

“That will not be necessary,” he answered politely. The man was gruff but did not seem callous or condescending, calmly accepting the hostility that permeated the room. “I have a letter from the palace that I will read to you now. Then we shall be on our way.”

He did not wait for a reply, unrolling the scroll in his hand and began to read, loud enough that those gathered outside could also hear the decree.

“On this day, the fourth day before Midsummer, Erik Magnus, son of Jakob and Edie Lehnsherr of Varre shall join the Royal Household and become the King’s concubine. As a token of good will, His Majesty has generously provided a sum of fifty gold pieces—”

“I don’t want your gold,” Jakob snapped, as Erik stumbled into his mother’s waiting arms, still in shock from all that had happened in the previous hour. “You think because we’re poor you can just pay us off? After what’s been done to my son by that…how dare you—”

The man Azazel – one of the guards in the alpha Lord’s company – raised a placating hand, though his other rested on his scabbard in clear and unmistakable warning. “Five gold pieces will feed your family for a year, Master Blacksmith. Be grateful for my Lord’s generosity, and the privilege of the…attention…he’s shown to your precious boy.”

“—for the family’s comfort, and for the care and dedication in raising a son worthy of the King’s favor.”

Outside the crowd cheered, though they all knew what had befallen Erik less than a week ago, and the sorry state he’d been in when he returned home from the lake. Few of the villagers felt any pity for him though, and most only bemoaned their own bad luck; that it was not their omega son or daughter that had attracted the roving eye of one so rich and powerful. His humiliation and his shame mattered little after all, when a life of luxury was the end result, and more money for his family than they could earn in a lifetime.

It certainly didn’t matter what Erik wanted, for none could gainsay the word of the King.

The Captain stepped forward, offering two jingling pouches he unclasped from his belt, and set them on the mantle when neither Edie nor Jakob reached to take them from his hand. “I advise you to take the gold and use it well,” he said with a sigh, “for the King will have him whether you take it or not. There is enough here to transform this entire village for the better, while your pride and anger will gain you nothing at all.”

Edie glared at him and asked, “What is your name, Captain?”

“Howlett.”

“Captain Howlett then,” she continued, taking two steps forward until she was standing before him, and had to tilt her head up to meet his eye. “Will you ensure that my Erik is safely delivered to the palace today? Do I have your word that no further ‘incidents’ will befall him while he is in your care?”

If the Captain was offended by the implication, he did not show it, simply shrugging his shoulders as Edie stared at him with dark eyes. “None would dare touch what belongs to His Majesty,” he said, and when Edie’s frown only deepened he added with sincerity, “though of course you have my word. I will protect him with my life, and deliver him unmolested to the King.”

“Where he will be molested by the King, for the rest of his life,” Jakob sneered, though Ruth shushed him quickly, and Edie shot him a warning glare. “Would you have us pretend to be happy with his ignominious fate?”

The Captain’s eyes landed on Erik with something like pity, or regret, before he shook his head and answered, “It is better to have the King’s interest than his ire, don’t you think? And he will live a life of leisure and luxury, surrounded by servants to do his bidding. It is a fate most people would envy.”

“You have no idea how lucky you are,” the alpha said, his body bracketing Erik and holding him in place. His breath hitched when he felt a hand slip deftly beneath his tunic, palming his flesh and pinching his nipples as Erik tried desperately to move away. “Of how many who would gladly be in your place.“

Erik shuddered, and Howlett quickly turned away, hollering to his men outside to ready for departure. When he turned back his expression was shuttered and his eyes hard, and he delivered the King’s last directive without the slightest hint of emotion.

“Say your goodbyes, and whatever else needs to be said, for it is unlikely that you will ever see him again.”

----

Erik rode alone in the carriage with his meager belongings, a few keepsakes from his childhood that he could not bear to leave behind. Even wearing his best outfit – the only one he had, for he would be given all new clothing at the palace – he felt awkward and wildly out of place, the finest linens they could afford mere rags compared to the velvet that lined his seat. Like a lark in a gilded cage he found no comfort in his surroundings, and little joy as his new life loomed closer with every mile they traveled.

They stopped midway to the Capital for a noon meal, and Erik was allowed to briefly stretch his legs under Howlett’s watchful eye. None of the guards approached or tried to speak to him, though he could feel them watching every time he turned away. The rapt attention of so many was both strange and unnerving, and Erik found himself oddly grateful for the Captain’s stoic presence at his side.

He ate the bread and cheese Howlett handed him, and emptied his waterskin, before he took a deep breath and sighed. “Do they all know about me? About what happened? With the King?”

The Captain stilled, looking up from the stick he’d been whittling to meet Erik’s eye. “Yes.”

Erik swallowed, and glanced away. “How did they…?”  

“From the guards that were there that day. Gossip travels fast, especially with matters that pertain to the King.”

“Do they think that I…” Erik dug his fingers into the grass and yanked until a clump came away in his hand. “That I wanted…because I didn’t—”

The frown on Howlett’s face stopped him mid-sentence, and he tried not to fidget like an unruly child under the man’s piercing gaze.  

“Doesn’t matter what happened,” he answered, “or what people say about you or the King. You are part of the royal household now, and the opinions of a few guards mean absolutely nothing. The only opinion that matters is His Majesty’s, for your wellbeing depends entirely on what he thinks. Remember that.”

Then he hauled Erik onto his feet, and herded him back onto the carriage.

#gerec writes #erik lehnsherr #sebastian shaw #historical au #concubine au #shaw/erik #it's not dirtybadporn #for a change #more world building #also #we get a bit of Logan #who is always a delight #edie lehnsherr #jakob lehnsherr #logan #james howlett #erik/shaw

[vulpesmellifera]

Fics I Read & Loved: April 2019

You can find the March list here.

I have been entrenched in the Sherlock fandom for these past eighteen months, but lately, I am enraptured by the show Hannibal. At the very end of this list is a very short list of recommended Hannibal AUs. You do not need to have watched the show, though it helps to envision the stories, of course. 

Now, onward to what we’re really here for: Johnlock and Mystrade.

I Will Take Care of You by SailorChibi. Johnlock. Teen. 16,664 words. This one is adorable, and I think we’re all here for BAMF John. John finds Sherlock on his sofa, badly injured and delirious. Which is a shock, considering Sherlock’s death and all. John picks up where Sherlock left off in dismantling the last strands of Moriarty’s web. 

That Sudden Flood of Joy by aplidell. Johnlock. Explicit. 7,124 words. Wonderful short story where John has married, then realizes his big mistake. The build up is fantastic.

The Order of Time by randomscientist. Mystrade. Teen. 5,555 words. Greg travels through time, and meets Mycroft as a young person. Wonderfully romantic story.

In the Space of a Breath by Mice. Mystrade. Teen. 8,318 words. Mycroft is caught in the bombing of a building, and tries to navigate a safe way out of the precarious structure. Greg arrives on the scene and awaits word. Established Mystrade.

Afraid of the Light by hippocrates460. Johnlock. Explicit. 12,063 words. This story is so, so lovely. Greg gently but firmly calls John out on some behavior, and John finds himself on a little journey to the center of truth.

British Racing Green by starsandstitches. Mystrade. Mature. 10,260 words. A fun fic with some flirty behavior between our boys when a chance encounter on the road gives them the opportunity to pursue more. 

Knowing by bigblueboxat221B. Mystrade. Teen. 9,038 words. Greg is used to getting kidnapped, but this time, it’s different.

London Gods by a_different_equation. Johnlock. Explicit. 11,092 words. If you like American Gods, here’s your fusion! Sherlock is a cab driver and djinn who does not grant wishes. 

Lightning and Sea Glass by 221b_careful_what_you_wish_for. Johnlock. Explicit. 18,280 words. This is a really lovely story inspired by Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Sherlock is the monster. John is the creator’s assistant.

Numerics by Hastalux. Mystrade. Explicit. 5,800 words. Hot! Mycroft stumbles onto a previously unknown fact about Greg, and he can’t escape his thoughts on it.

No Matter the Form by hoomhum. Teen. 4,299 words. All the fluff right here. Werewolf fluff. 

Negotiable by eyebrowofdoom. 00Q. Explicit. 35,338 words. Oops, how did this one get in here? I blame @savvyblunders. This is a wonderful fic if your tastes run to Bond/Q. I have never seen the movies, and still enjoyed this very much!

And like all my other monthly recs of 2019, I have attached my 2018 list as well.

Screw Your Courage series by blueink3. Johnlock. Explicit. 153,439 words. Sherlock is a Shakespearean actor with few prospects left. John Watson is a star of musical theatre. Both are cast in an all-male cast of MacBeth, as the title role and his Lady. And they’re not fans of each other...

The shape of the world around us by Salambo06. Johnlock. Explicit. 15,058 words. Sherlock is a botanist who journeys out into the woods. He doesn’t expect the lumberjack, but then, there it is.

carrying up his morning tea by darcylindbergh. Johnlock. Explicit. 34,504 words. Sherlock and John haven’t spoken for two years. The death of a much loved mutual acquaintance brings them back into one another’s orbit. This is a stunning story of two estranged men finding their way.

a vein of frost by Zingiber. Johnlock. Explicit. 58,023 words. John and Rosie are living at Baker St, where Sherlock helps to coparent the young Watson. He comes to realize that he’s enamored with John, who has decided to get back into the dating game. John is on the precipice of telling Sherlock something important, but a strange case steals their attention. 

Excultus by Mottlemoth. Mystrade. Explicit. 314,721 words. Greg Lestrade works as a DI in 23-rd century London for Cross-Human Relations at Scotland Yard. Mycroft Holmes is the head of Criminal Psychology. This is one of my favorite stories ever in this fandom.

A Man of Honour by Mottlemoth. Mystrade. Explicit. 26,767 words. Set as a medieval AU in the East End verse, but can definitely be read as a standalone. Fantastic story about Sir Gregory Lestrade’s capture by the enemy Marquess. 

The Bee & Bonnet by belovedmuerto. Johnlock. Mature. 15,438 words. John Watson goes home from Afghanistan to save the family business. He hires an interesting man, Sherlock Holmes, to be his brewer. Hopefully it works out.

An Experiment in Apathy series by belovedmuerto. Johnlock. Explicit. 28,701 words. This is a really interesting story - John is an empath, Sherlock and John find their way to each other, and there is a side of Mystrade.

The Crooked Thing by bookjunkiecat. Johnlock. Mature. 9,023 words. John is watching his wedding video with Rosie, and he sees something he’s never noticed before. Question is, what can he do about it? Will he do anything about it?

The Burning of the Leaves by blueink3. Johnlock. Mature. 15,915 words. This is an absolutely gorgeous story. Sherlock, John, and Rosie visit Major Sholto for lunch. Sherlock knows he can’t compete with Sholto for John’s affections, so he tries to content himself with loving Rosie and letting the two men alone.

Stood in History by philalethia. Johnlock. Explicit. 18,738 words. Sherlock discovers the wedding ring in John’s drawer. Shenanigans ensue. 

That Partitioning of the Things of Youth by wearitcounts. Johnlock. Explicit. 35,354 words. Victor Trevor appears out of nowhere, and John isn’t too happy. Also, the fake relationship trope comes into play!

Here’s the Hannigram, y’all. No need to have watched Hannibal to enjoy any of these fics.

A Valued Client by Mottlemoth. Hannigram. Explicit. 3,956 words. Will Graham is a very special barber with a very special client. Barber AU.

Chine by gryvon. Hannigram. Explicit. 10,011 words. Will Graham tells Jack Crawford no on his first invite into a case. He meets Hannibal through a mutual friend, and they date. Hannibal is still a cannibal. Season 1 AU/canon divergence.

The Substitute by Devereauxs_Disease. Hannigram. Explicit. 10,502 words. Will is ill in the hospital for two weeks. Hannibal takes over teaching his classes, and brings him homecooked food. Will’s not too happy about how things are going, and is kind of a dick. Season one AU.

A Particular Affinity by louise_lux. Hannigram. Explicit. 6,532 words. Hannibal has hyperosmia. Will decides to exploit this. 

Ethics & Aesthetics by fragile-teacup. Hannigram. Explicit. 106,317 words. A Pride and Prejudice AU! Will is an omega with several sisters, and Hannibal is an alpha aristocrat new in town.

Overcoming by purefoysgirl. Hannigram. Explicit. 547,570 words. Listen, I rarely read A/B/O, but this story...it’s SO GOOD. And then I read Ethics & Aesthetics, also good, and then I realized I was likely ignoring lots of stories (I mean I’ve read The Gilded Cage because it was by a favorite author, but for the most part I skip omegaverse) that could be very good. Overcoming is fucking amazing. Regency AU, where Will is an omega who meets with only abuse in his own home until his father tricks Hannibal Lecter into marrying him. Lecter also hates omegas. The angst is crazy to start with, but it gets soo, so good. And there’s love, there’s real love. 

#monthly fic recs #mystrade #johnlock #hannigram #hannibal #00q #fanfiction #2019 fic recs #fan recs #johnlock fic rec #mystrade fic rec

[kaitoujokerscans]

Showdown in the Dark Night! Joker vs Shadow CH7

<7> Break the Code!

The three of them came to a stop near a pond with a brook. Probably tired from using her powers, Rose was huffing and puffing to steady her breath.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Just a little tired..." Rose exhaled deeply. At this level of exhaustion, she could still use a little more power. "Take this.." Rose handed Queen the hairpin.

"Got it..." Queen took it. "Are you sure about Shadow?"

"Perfectly, I can't trust my brother as he is right now..." Rose gave her a sad smile.

"......" Queen took a long look at the hairpin and contemplated.

Beside her, Ai put a finger to her ear and contacted Spade. "Spade-sama, we've escaped immediate peril."

"Well done, I knew you could do it. You just might be the strongest trio ever."

"No need for the hollow praise. Roko, how are things looking?" Queen asked, unruffled by Spade's patronizing.

"Right, Queen. Joker, Hayami-san, and Inspector Oniyama are still in the salon."

"Got it. Rose, you can meet Hayami soon."

"O-Okay..." Rose anxiously placed a hand over her chest. "But I wonder if he'll even talk to me..."

"It'll be fine," Ai reassured her. "Just be sincere and tell him you wanted to see him."

"Eh, 'I wanted to see him'..." Rose's face suddenly went red, and she shook her head from side to side. "T-That's not what I...!"

Ai smiled and continued, soothingly. "No, that's enough. If you can make that clearly understood, men will listen to what you have to say."

"R-Really...?"

"Hmm, is that true?" Queen thought of the men in her life. Considering Joker, and considering Silver Heart, it felt like there were a lot of men in her life who didn't hear her out. Ah, but Roko does hear me out. And listens to what I tell him. This in mind, Queen addressed Roko. "Guide us to the salon, Roko."

"Roger. Queen, be careful. Inspector Oniyama gave out orders not long ago. You'll have more people on your tail," Roko warned Queen.

"Fu fu, rest assured. No matter the numbers, opponents like that are no threat at all." Queen boasted, just as...

"Think again!" The moment she sensed a presence behind her, Queen took a hit and was sent flying forward. She fell onto a thicket.

"Ouch...!"

"Queen-san!" Ai and Rose dashed towards Queen and helped her up. Behind the three of them had been Momo, battle-ready. She had struck Queen with a flying kick to the rear.

"Your back's wide open, Phantom Thief Queen!"

"Guh... It's not fair to attack an opponent unawares..." Pressing a hand to her back, Queen got to her feet and scowled at Momo.

"We're taking back Komachi's Gilded Chrysanthemum!" Behind Momo was Ginko, at the head of a division of officers, scowling back. Once they saw them, Ai and Rose immediately poised themselves. Queen seemed to think for a moment, before deftly sticking the hairpin into her knot of hair. The large diamond glinted on her head.

"Rose-san," Ai then whispered, "Leave this to Queen-san and myself. Rose-san, you should hurry to where Hayami-san is."

"Eh? Why?"

"We'll hold them off here. While we do, Rose-san, please enter the manor on your own."

"Eh, but..."

"Nice idea, Dark Eye," Spade's voice sounded in her ear. "Rose, let those two handle it. Go inside while you still have stamina. We'll guide you through the safest route."

"But..."

"It'll be fine. Spade-sama will help." Ai turned to Rose and spoke softly so it wouldn't be picked up by the microphone. "Rose-san, please tell Hayami-san your honest feelings."

"My feelings..?"

"Your feelings right now, Rose-san. If you just tell yourself you'll say them eventually, you'll lose your chance..."

"......"

Ai glanced at Rose and gave her a small smile. Before Rose could pick up on the hint of wistfulness in her expression, she heard Momo's battle cry and Queen readying to meet it.

"KIEEEEEEEH!"

"YAAAAAAH!"

Queen and Momo's battle had begun.

"Now go!" shouted Ai as she took her mic out of its holster and leveled it at an officer.

"...Okay!" Rose acknowledged, and handed Ai something that looked like a key.

"What is this...?"

"Oniichan's bike should be parked at the edge of the garden. I stole it just earlier." Rose grinned, then ran at full speed towards the manor.

§§§

Time passed quietly in the salon. The shrill alarm and sounds of officers fighting streamed in from the outside. In total contrast, the three inside the room were silent, passing the time with their thoughts alone.

"Inspector Oniyama, shouldn't you go?" Joker asked, and Oniyama responded in a low voice.

"My subordinates are handling matters outside. I have to keep watch over you here."

"Hmm, you really trust them." Joker rattled his cuffs and went on. "Inspector, are you really going to quit the force?"

"Fu fu fu, as long as you stay snug in there, I won't have to. Don't tell me you'll be lonely?"

"Heh, nothing'd make me feel better, in fact!" Joker talked trash and turned the other way. In his line of sight was Hayami, zoned out on something. It looked as if he hadn't yet solved the code's riddle. All right... now to just wait for the time to come... Joker grinned internally.

Just then, there was a small electronic beep. It seemed to be coming from Oniyama's wristwatch. Oniyama took a quick look at his watch, and was questioned by Joker.

"Inspector, what's that sound?"

"M-My daughter Haruka set an alarm on my wristwatch. When cases drag on, I end up losing sleep, so the alarm tells me when to get ready to go to bed."

"Ha ha, nice of her. I don't mind if you sleep, you know?"

"Hmph, once you're safely under arrest, I'll so catch up on sleep! I won't rest until then, not even if I catch a whiff of that Gilded Chrysanthemum!"

"Heh heh heh, big words."

Listening to the conversation between them, Hayami suddenly raised his face as if he had hit upon something. "An alarm... lettin' ya know the time..." he said, then laughed, "I get it, that's what it means."

"Oniyama-han, many thanks. I've solved tha code."

"Y-You did?" Oniyama turned to him in surprise.

"Let's hear it."

At Joker's prodding, Hayami squeaked his wheelchair over in front of the cage. "'Three onces follow each other' refers to tha time... there is Oniyama-han's theory of it bein' 1:11, but tha phrasin' of 'onces' weighed on my mind."

"Same."

"Using that phrasin' ta express time... in olden times, morning breaks were called 'elevenses'. 'Elevenses' morphed from 'elevens' and got passed down that way."

"Yeah, that's right." Joker nodded.

"What did th' count of 'elevens' refer ta? It was... tha bell toll."

"......"

"They used ta ring bells to announce tha time. Just like we use clock alarms these days." Here Oniyama gave a grunt and touched his wristwatch. "They told tha time from the number of tolls. When th' bell rang eleven times in tha day, it was time fer a break." Hayami began to wheel his chair around the room. "And we have a clock chime right in this house ta tell the time. The clock here tolls once every thir'y minutes. At 5:00 on tha hour, it rings five times, and on tha half-hour, it rings once. That's how time is announced ta people in tha manor."

That all checks out, thought Oniyama. When Oniyama greeted Hayami, the 11:30 bell rang just once.

"So tha 'onces' in tha code is tha time when tha bell rings once. Then what time is when 'three onces follow each other'... this is key. Is there such a time?"

"......" As if he already knew what Hayami was about to say, Joker listened with his eyes shut tight.

"If tha bell rings five times at 5:00, then tha bell rings once at 1:00. 30 minutes before and after that... at 12:30 and 1:30, tha bell rings once each time. So at 12:30, 1:00, and 1:30, three times in a row, tha bell rings once. This is our 'three onces follow each other." Hayami spoke calmly and smoothly. He was walking through his thought process, expounding on his deduction.

"Tha 'first and next' is, simply put, 12:30 to 1:00. The Gilded Chrysanthemum blossoms during that interval." Hayami said and held up his watch. "Thus tha flower's already bloomin'. Five more minutes and it's time up..." The clock's hands pointed to 12:55.

Joker slowly opened his eyes. "I get it, I bet you're right. Then where's the place?"

"The place follows naturally once ya know the time. This manor is squat in the middle of a massive, round garden. It's like a giant clock itself. Ergo, tha direction of 12:30 is..." Hayami pointed a finger toward the window. It faced slightly east of due north. Beyond it was the donut-shaped hanging garden that encircled the manor. "That section of tha hangin' garden's where Komachi's Gilded Chrysanthemum is blooming."

"......"

"Well? Ya reached the same conclusion, I'm sure?"

Joker's eyes focused tightly.

"And that's why ya came back here, innit?" Hayami chuckled at having realized this. "Ya came in the manor and waited fer your chance ta escape, but ya were a moment too late. Yer a prisoner now. There's nothing you can do ta escape from there at this point."

"......" Joker watched Hayami intently, not saying a word. To be frank, this was earlier than he expected. Hayami had completely solved the riddle in this short span. Joker was even impressed at his insight. However...

"It'd be futile ta try escapin' from there. I've been watchin' ya this whole time."

"Well, I wonder about that?" Joker second-guessed him with a grin. "Your solution to the code is probably right on. But you see, a phantom thief thinks two or three steps ahead. I'll take the Gilded Chrysanthemum, just like I said!"

Just after Joker shouted, the bell tolled. BONNNNNG! It had struck 1:00. Hayami laughed triumphantly.

"Hah hah hah! It's time. Tha flower's withered! I did want ta see the Gilded Chrysanthemum myself, but more's the pity!"

"......" Joker glared at Hayami.

--But just then, something unexpected happened. BONNNNNG! The bell tolled twice.

"Wha...!" Hayami looked up in surprise. A third toll, BONNNNNG!, rang out in a row.

"I-Impossible!" Hayami checked his watch as fast as he could. It was unmistakably pointing to 1:00 A.M. "How! Tha bell should only ring once at 1:00!"

In spite of, and almost drowning out Hayami's cries of denial, the bell kept tolling BONNNG! BONNNG!

"Why's this happenin'!?" Hayami was in utter confusion, turning his wheelchair to and fro. The bell was still tolling.

"Do you want to know why?" Joker's voice rang quietly. With an audacious smile on his face, Joker observed Hayami.

"...Joker, you set this up!"

"Guess again. Would there be any point to just changing the number of tolls?"

"Then how...?"

"I first realized it when the 12:00 bell rang. I was with Shadow then, when I heard the bell. But I realized something was off, right then."

"Off?"

"The bell only rang 11 times."

"What!?"

"Yup, no doubt about it. There really was one too few. At first I thought I miscounted. But when you mentioned that the manor owner's base of operations is in Singapore, and that he had no outside contact in Japan, I solved the riddle. Of why this house's clocks are one hour off..."

Once he heard this, Hayami too realized. "Wha... time zones!"

"Exactly."

The room clock tolled again. BONNNNNG! In harmony with the sound, Joker stood up proudly. "The manor's owner set all the clocks in this house to Singapore time, which is one hour behind Japan. So when the clocks in this house say it's 11:00, it's actually 12:00. Following that, when it's 1:00 now, the clocks here say..."

"12:00.... So tha bell rings 12 times..."

"Yes, 'three onces follow each other' in this house when the clock strikes 12:30, 1:00, and 1:30. In Japan time, that's 1:30, 2:00, and 2:30, and the 'first one' is... 1:30 A.M.!"

"Goshdarn... tha flower isn't bloomin' yet. But it will in another 30 minutes..." Hayami inferred and bit his lip. But soon enough he had another thought and focused on Joker. "None tha less, we can just have Inspecter Oniyama secure that section of the hangin' garden 'til the time passes, can't we?"

"Mhmm, that we can." Oniyama, like Hayami, watched Joker. But Joker's flippant expression didn't fade.

"Hee hee, why do you think I was staying here so patiently? You might have thought you had me captured, but you're the ones who've been captured."

"What?"

"What!?"

"It's right about time!" Joker shouted, and at that very moment, the twelfth BONNNNNG! tolled. Immediately after, a ground-shaking rumble came from outside the window.

"W-What is that sound!"

"Do it, Hachi!"

"Okay!" Hachi's voice came from the device hidden in Joker's hand.

Hayami rushed to look out of the window to find that northeast of the manor, the section of the donut-shaped hanging garden in the direction of 1:30 was gradually rattling up into the air.

"While I was detained, my excellent assistant finished the heavy work!"

"Wha... yer stealin' tha entire garden!?"

"The Gilded Chrysanthemum will bloom in another thirty minutes. By that time, we'll be on the horizon with the whole garden!" Before they knew it, Joker was free of handcuffs and jumped out of the cage. He threw a card at the ceiling, which exploded with a boom and left a gaping hole. Joker deftly lifted Balloon Gum overhead and rose up lightly. "Then as promised, I'm taking Komachi's Gilded Chrysanthemum! Au revoir!"

Joker began to fly towards the hole in the ceiling. But before he could, a weight tightened around his leg. "Wha...!?"

"Guh... I absolutely won't let you get away, Joker!" Oniyama had grabbed onto Joker's leg.

"Inspector...!?"

"This time I have to so arrest you for certain!" Oniyama held fast to Joker like his life depended on it.

"Argh, let go, Inspector!" Joker tried to peel Oniyama off, just as Oniyama grabbed onto something. "Leggo already!" Joker shook Oniyama off.

"Wauugh!" Oniyama tore something off of Joker as he fell to the ground. When he looked up after crashing, he saw Joker escaping through the ceiling hole into the night sky.

"JOKEEEEEER!!"

In the piece of sky visible through the hole was Joker's airship, the Sky Joker, with the section of the garden suspended from it with multiple wires.

"Blast..." Oniyama pounded the ground in anger. In his fist was the golden J-shaped badge.

#kaitou joker #light novel

[starryeyedkoo]

All Too Familiar - Kim Taehyung

Genre: knight!au, e2l!au, angst, fluff

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Warnings: mentions of death and war, mature language, broken family, jealous tae, reader may be a little annoying until character development™

Word Count: 24.5k (i’m so sorry i got carried away)

Funny how the one person you were sure would completely confiscate your freedom brought you the closest you’d ever come to it. 

“What is this?” your father held in his hands a book with worn leather binding and yellowing pages. You felt your heart jump, unsure how he possibly could have found it. You scowled, thinking it must have been one of the servants that ratted you out.

“A book?” you lilted, blinking innocently.

“Yes, of course I know that, (y/n),” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I also know that this book is not from the palace library.” His voice became increasingly more accusing, and you found it harder and harder to keep a straight face, letting your guiltiness be known to the naked eye. “You went out into town again, didn’t you?” he bellowed.

“I wore a cloak and hid my face, and I only went to the little library down in the village. It’s not far from here. I was gone for at most an hour!” you defended. You should have known you would get caught one of these days, but you would rather have to apologize rather than never experience it. The little town outside the walls called to you. You longed for more than these stone walls, yet in all your years, you had only seen a minute fraction of the world outside.

“Do you know how much could happen in an hour? It’s too dangerous! How many times do I have to tell you—”

His lecture was interrupted by a man wearing a knight’s uniform tearing through the entrance to the throne room in a panic. “Your majesty!” he called out, voice strained as he knelt before the king.

“Speak,” your father commanded calmly.

“On behalf of Captain Lee, I must request reinforcements to be sent to the battle at Ambrosia Field,” the soldier explains, still panting from his frantic entrance. Your father’s face became solemn as he contemplated the next step to make. The soldier’s face became worried at his hesitance. “Please, forgive me for speaking out of turn, Your Majesty, but our men are getting slaughtered out there as we speak.”

You felt a heavy pit form in your stomach as his voice shook when those words passed his lips. As the princess, you should be able to live on as if the tragedy your people were facing wasn’t happening with the safe and sheltered life you lived within the walls of the castle. You knew that’s what your people thought of you, too, as you heard several times before, some subjects openly expressing their opinions while out in town, but secretly you suffered with them.

“I understand. I will have troops sent for support there.” With that, the soldier bowed and expressed his desperate gratitude before leaving just as distressed as he had entered, rushing to send support to his comrades. Your father turned slowly back to you, the heavy weight of running a kingdom evident in the deep wrinkles engraved into his face. He spoke suddenly, breaking through the solemn silence, “That’s it. It can’t be delayed any longer. You’re no longer safe, (y/n).”

He started out of the room with a quick pace, and you followed behind just as fast. “What? Father, what do you mean?”

“I mean I’m recruiting someone that will serve as protection for you at all times.”

Your eyes became wide and you quickened your steps even more to step into his line of sight. “Father, you can’t do that! I don’t need protection! Please don’t do that!” you begged, but it was too late, for he was no longer listening to you, and your freedom as you knew it was as good as gone.

You felt pain everywhere. In your head as your hair was being pulled far too tightly into a ridiculous braided updo that was always described as “only fit for a royal.” In your abdomen as your ladies in waiting squeezed you into a horrendously tight corset and a constricting dress over the top of it. In your legs as you had been standing for hours to get into this tent of a skirt with a far too uncomfortable cage hanging around your hips to create the rounded shape around your lower half.

You felt pain everywhere. In your mind as you repeated and rehearsed all of the speeches and formalities you would have to give at the ceremony today. In your heart as you felt your last sliver of freedom that you barely had to begin with slipping away between your fingertips.

Today was the day your father would assign your very own appointed night. While it sounds glamorous and exciting to have your own person following you around and ensuring your safety and obeying your every word, you’ve had plenty of these people surrounding you for your entire life, and honestly, you didn’t see why even a single guard was necessary.

“You look beautiful, Your Highness.” One of your ladies stood before you, still making a few adjustments to the hem of your oversized skirt. This particular lady, however, was the closest to your age, only three years older than you, and she was the closest thing you had to a friend.

“I don’t feel beautiful, Jiwoo.” You rolled your eyes at the reflection staring back at your from the other side of your floor length mirror. Luckily, your ladies-in-waiting never tattled to your father when you were being less than pleasant as you were right now, so you were able to voice your frustrations around them. However, you wished they would sometimes speak back to you. It often felt as if you were speaking to a wall when you were talking to them because they were all hesitant to converse so casually with their princess, even Jiwoo most of the time. It was lonely. You continued to complain to them anyways, even if you knew you would get no confirmation that they were even listening in the first place. “Why do I need to have an appointed night? Nothing ever happens here in the castle! The biggest worry I have around here is spilling my drink on one of my favorite dresses!”

“Well, His Majesty believes it is necessary, so it must be done,” Jiwoo speaks carefully as she continues to fiddle with the frills on your sleeve. You only huffed out in annoyance and silently waited to finally step down from the stool on which you were standing to make your way to the ceremony, long-awaited by many—long-dreaded in your case.

The walls of the castle ballroom were ornately decorated for such a special occasion, with banners draped across their gilded lines, and the floor was filled with nobles and visitors lucky enough to see the royal family up close. You weren’t even sure why they bothered to come to a ceremony for something that had absolutely no effect on them. Perhaps for bragging rights to say they were even allowed to attend. Cheerful music played from a group of musicians to your right, in a stark contrast to your sour mood which you had to make an effort to hide from your subjects. You sat in your own throne, positioned to the left, slightly behind your father’s regal throne, which was also about twice the size of yours and much more ornate. After sitting in silence for an agonizing length of time, the royal advisor whispered to your father. The king then stood and all of the excited chatter of the audience died down and directed their undivided attention towards him. “As you all know, our kingdom is at war,” his voice boomed throughout the enormous room, his statement causing a small rise of chatter from the people. “Because times such as these can potentially be dangerous, I have decided to give my daughter, your future queen, a protector that I believe is skilled enough to defeat any who may dare approach her with ill will, and who is loyal enough to lay down his life for his princess. Today,” he paused, looking back to where you sat, motioning with his hand for you to take a place standing beside him, “he will be knighted and assigned as Princess (y/n)’s very own appointed knight.”

Although you couldn’t feel more down as the time continued to approach, you kept your chin held high and maintained your regal image you had been trained for so long to uphold. A short man with a horn then blew to once again silence the growing murmurs of the crowd, all wondering who this knight could be. The same man lowered his trumpet and announced, “Let the procession begin.”

With that, the music resumed, but this time it had a slower, more official tone to it to draw attention to the gravity of the situation. Though people were excited, this was only happening because there was a very real possibility of danger within the walls of the kingdom. One by one, pairs of knights walked in step with one another down the aisle towards you and your father. When they reached the end, they lowered themselves onto one knee and bowed to their ruler before taking their place to the sides of the aisle. Finally, after what must have been at least thirty pairs of knights, a single boy walks down the aisle, a stone cold, stoic expression donned upon his face. To the surprise of everyone who finally caught a glimpse of the to-be-knighted boy, he looked to be almost the same age as you, and he was still dressed in common training garb with dark blond hair and intense eyes.

You had heard things about this boy when you secretly listened into the maids gossip while they worked, believing no one else was around. They had said that he was only a year older than you, and he was still in training to become a knight, but he had shown great potential, so he had been chosen specifically by your father for this position, and they continued to chat about a plethora of other good things about his skill. However, you had also heard that he was rumored to be bold and could even be considered brash by some, and that he really couldn’t take things seriously at times and he really didn’t give a damn about his miraculous swordsmanship in comparison to the other trainees around him.

However, you never could have guessed he would possess these characteristics from the dignified composure he showed. Just as the other knights before him had done, he dropped onto one knee before the king, keeping his head bowed and a hand placed over his heart. You continued to watch the mysterious boy as your father retrieved the Knighting sword, but much to your bewilderment, he had the nerve to lift his gaze from where it focused on the ground to look into your eyes. It was already considered quite rude for a noble of a lower class to make eye contact with you, but for a trainee who had not even been knighted yet, a commoner, to meet your eyes was unheard of. He could be imprisoned just for that if you so wished. You felt your cheeks heat up and hoped it was not visible to him or the countless people watching, who strangely did not seem to notice what scandal had just occurred before their eyes. He simply smirked at your baffled reaction before returning his gaze to the floor as the King faced him with a sword in hand.

Your father then relayed a multitude of oaths that the boy swore by that you didn’t bother to listen to. Instead, you focused on the face of the boy kneeling before you. You would be lying if you said you weren’t offended. It wasn’t that you truly believed that others should be unable to meet your eyes, it was the fact that it was the first time someone had actually done it. It felt so foreign, yet somehow relieving. The more you thought about it actually, the more it intrigued you.

“Then having sworn these solemn oaths, know now that I, the King, by right of arms, do dub you with my sword, and by all that you hold sacred, true, and holy... Once for Honor... Twice for Duty... Thrice for Chivalry... Arise, Sir Taehyung!” your father announced just as an explosion of applause and shouts of excitement arose from the crowd as the new knight stood before them. However, the ceremony was not yet over until he was assigned specifically to you. “Sir Taehyung,” your father took your hand leading you down a step and placing it into your newly appointed knight’s hold, “I hereby declare that you will defend the princess with your life.”

Taehyung lifted your hand in his and placed a chaste and gentle kiss to your knuckles, but once again, he lifted his eyes to meet your own, leaving you breathless as his lips met your hand at the same time as his pupils focused on your own. It only lasted a split second, however, and you were sure no one else had seen once again.

After a beat of intense silence, a unified shout of joy ripped through the crowd in celebration of the exciting news of a new and special type of night. You stayed for a moment, putting on your best smile and gracefully waving to your subjects. Finally, it was time for you to leave. “Sir Taehyung, would you please escort me to my quarters?” you asked, turning towards the excited new knight.

“It would be my pleasure,” he agreed, bowing his head and waiting for you to take the lead. You didn’t even attempt to hide the roll of your eyes, which your father caught, causing him to clear his throat and give you a warning look. You gave a dramatic sigh, losing your regal posture as you slouched your shoulders and walked away with a pout.

The two of you suffered an unbearably silent walk to the other side of the castle where your room was located. When you finally reached your destination, Taehyung stepped in front to open the door for you, and while it seemed as if he may have been trying to act as properly as he could, you could see right through it and your eyes rolled back once more as you brushed past him. He began to laugh, but covered his mouth with his fist, lazily attempting to pass it off as a cough. “Well, Princess, looks like you’re stuck with me.”

“Yes, unfortunately I am,” you muttered under your breath, although you secretly wished that your knight would hear. You faced away from him as he walked through the doorway a few feet behind you, just before you heard the heavy wooden door slam as it did when someone who was unfamiliar with it let it fall behind them. You turned and found him standing in front of it, scanning and observing your room which you were sure was much bigger and more luxurious than any place he had been able to sleep in before. “What are you doing?” you questioned, your eyes flicking between him and the floor between the two of you. “You shouldn’t be in here. These are my private quarters.”

“Well my job is to keep an eye on you at all times, isn’t it?” You scoffed and a very obvious blush grew on your face. “You sure like to let your mind wander, don’t you, Princess?” He said with a smirk evident on his face as he walked the perimeter of your room until he stood before your sizable window, looking out on the expansive castle gardens and the towns just beyond the wall that separated them from the castle’s property. His hands connected behind his back as he observed the sights. “This is a beautiful view,” he mused, suddenly changing the subject.

You were caught off guard by the sudden softness of his voice. You lessened the distance between the two of you so you could see what he was talking about. The garden was in full bloom with a conglomeration of vibrantly colored flowers, and the sun was shining unusually bright. From the feeling it gave off, you never would have guessed there was a war going on just outside the border. “I suppose it is,” you contemplated. “I’ve never really paid much attention to it.”

He gasped. “If I could see something as beautiful as this everyday, I’d never take my eyes off of it.” His sudden sweet words left you speechless for reasons unknown and you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of him. It was just more than anything you would have expected from someone like him. “There wasn’t some type of hidden meaning behind that if that’s what your thinking,” he stated, his smirk returned within seconds after he caught you staring. “I know I’m irresistible, but I’m just your knight. Don’t get the wrong idea, Princess.” He choked back a laugh, and your face flushed with embarrassment which soon turned to anger.

“That is not what I was thinking! Now get out!” you shouted, gripping him by the shoulders and practically dragging him out the door. Just after you slammed the door in his face, which still had no sign of remorse for what he had said, you added through the closed door, “And it’s ‘Your Highness’ to you!” You stomped over to your bed, flopping down face first into a pillow and groaned. You had to get rid of him.

“Father?” You knocked on the large wooden door at the entrance to your father’s quarters. You heard a hum from the other side signalling you to enter. You quietly slid through the door, finally free of your knight who had been following you like a moth to a flame when you told him to wait behind because you were going to speak with the king.

Your father was seated in a lounge chair by the fireplace, reading a book, turning his head to look at you when you entered. “What is it, (y/n)?”

You took tentative steps toward him, not sure how to begin your appeal. “It’s about Sir Taehyung,” you paused fiddling with your fingers. “I just don’t think he’s the right person for the job. Also, the guards stationed around the palace serve as good protection, so I don’t think having a personal knight is necessary.”

The king sighed, closing the pages of his book and placing it onto the table beside him. “He is a perfectly capable knight, and it calms my heart knowing that you are safer with him around. I’m sorry that you’re unhappy with the arrangement, but it is necessary.”

“But is it?” you talk back.

He gives you a stern glare for your offhand speech with him. “It is. I won’t discuss this any longer.” He picked up his book and began to read once again in attempts to make you give up your attempts to persuade him.

You regretfully made your way outside his room back into the castle corridors, where you found a certain blond-headed boy waiting for you. You paused in your tracks when his gaze met yours. “What are you doing out here? I told you to wait behind,” you reprimanded, crossing your arms as if talking to a child. It was beginning to feel that way, after all.

“I was waiting to escort you to your next destination, Princess—” he cut himself off by clearing his throat, although it was painfully obvious to be fake, “excuse me—Your Highness.” He corrected himself with an exaggerated bow, making your blood boil at his mockery. You chose not to satisfy him by giving him a reaction, so you simply stomped ahead of him and walked ahead. He caught up to just a few steps behind you as he began interrogating you, “So what was that little secret meeting about?”

“It’s private business. You have no need to know.” You turned your chin up at him.

You could practically hear the mischief in his voice when he spoke his next few words, feigning innocence, “You were trying to get rid of me, weren’t you?”

You were unable to hide your eyes widening from shock at his amazing deduction skills. “How did you—?”

He let out a chuckle at your bewilderment. “Those doors may be heavy, but they’re not sound proof.”

Your mouth gaped in shock as you looked bewildered around the room as if asking the nonexistent other people in the hallway, Can you believe this guy? “So you were eavesdropping? On the king? Well! I don’t think he’d be very happy to hear about this, but telling him would simply be the right thing to do, so it must be done!” you reasoned, spinning on your heel, practically sprinting back in hopes you could finally be rid of this leech of a knight.

He was calm, however, not making a move from where he stood, only calling out to you, “Are you sure about that? Don’t want to make dear old dad angry, now do we?” There was a certain bitterness in his voice that drew your attention from your previous excitement, practically giving you whiplash at his sudden 180 degree change of tone. You stopped where you were, only a few steps away from your father’s bedroom door, listening for what else the knight would say. “He gets a little too angry sometimes, doesn’t he?” All jesting nature had disappeared from his once carefree face and your eyebrows raised at his accusation.

“How…” You looked between him and the door. Your lips were parted and ready to speak, but no words came forth. You weren’t sure how he had been able to convince you, but you found yourself heeding his advice and turning away from your father’s quarters, taking only one last glance back to the door. Bottom lip caught between your teeth, you slowly walked back to meet him where he silently waited for you down the hall, eyeing him warily as you passed him by. You had to be careful with this one; not only was he a master with his sword, but it also seemed he was brilliant with his brain.

“I’m going for a ride,” you said to Taehyung over your shoulder from where you sat side-saddled on your horse, reigns already in hand. The sun shone brightly and you wanted nothing more than to breathe in some fresh air, so you decided you would go horseback riding, although since you would have to leave the confines of the guarded walls to do so, you couldn’t even dream of getting away with going without your knight. “Please stay a good distance back if you insist on following me.” And with that you flicked your wrists, causing the horse to take off before Taehyung had even finished mounting.

Once some distance had been made between you and the man following behind, you rubbed your horse’s neck to calm him and slow him to a trot. You took the few moments of silence and solitude to appreciate the landscape around you of the forest, with its green leaves and tangled vines, you had not been allowed to venture into for years now. You suppose that was one perk to having an appointed knight. Despite how pestering it was, it gave you the opportunity to do things you couldn’t before as long as he was with you. When you could finally hear the hooves of Taehyung’s horse, you had your horse speed up a bit once again.

You decided it was best to ignore him, so you continued to enjoy the scenery, from the rushing waters of the creek flowing by to your right to the towering trees above that sheltered you from the harsh summer sun. Above the tranquil sound of water, you heard the sound of a branch of a tree snapping, but didn’t think anything of it until a large branch came falling down just a few feet in front of you and your horse.

Before you had any time to react on your own, your horse did the job for you, abruptly pushing onto its back hooves and you were bucked off, falling to the side as the horse attempted to turn and run the other way, fortunately from the way you were thrown off, you landed feet first and did not have to worry about serious injury to your back or somewhere worse. Unfortunately, after you had a few seconds to process what had just happened and the numbing shock finally wore off, you felt tremendous pain in your left ankle.

Taehyung quickly dismounted from his horse and ran over to help you, calling out in concern, “Princess!” He reached you and grabbed hold of your arm to help you up, but you pushed his hands away and tried to stand on your own, but the feeling in your ankle only became worse and you immediately sat back onto the ground. He crouched down and looked you over. “Are you okay? Is something hurt?”

You gritted your teeth, pointing to where you were injured, “It’s my ankle.” Taehyung looked between you and your foot a few times before placing a hand under your back and beneath your knees to carry you to the royal infirmary.

After the doctor had seen you, informed you it was a sprain, and wrapped your ankle up, you sat dejectedly on the examination table, kicking your uninjured foot back and forth. Taehyung finally spoke, his voice quieter than usual, “We should probably get you back to your room.”

Before he could even make a move, you began to push yourself off the table, willing to land on your wounded ankle if it meant getting out of what you were afraid would happen next, but you weren’t fast enough. “Woah!” Taehyung quickly grabbed your shoulders, pushing you back away from the edge of the table before he began to support your weight.

“It’s alright. I’ll walk by myself,” you insisted, squirming to escape his grasp.

“Sorry, Princess, no can do. The doctor said you can’t put any weight on that ankle for the next several days.” His voice still possessed its signature lightness, but his face contrasted it, lips forming a thin line and brows drawn together in worry. You continued to give him trouble until he finally grabbed both of your wrists and he looked up to you, eyes wide as they met yours accompanied by turned down brows and lips. “Stop,” he chided sternly, the sudden depth in his voice causing a shiver to run down your spine and put a stop to all movement.

When he finally had you under control, he turned his back to you and bent down so he could carry you on his back. His hands slipped under your thighs to support you and suddenly everything felt much more scandalous than it was. You wrapped your arms around his neck and reluctantly rested your head on his shoulder. “I guess I should say thank you,” you sighed. “I made a really dumb decision.”

“Yeah, well, this is what happens when you try to make my job difficult.” You could hear that grin on his face.

Your remorse for the burden of him having to carry you suddenly vanished. “I was just trying to say thank you! Why couldn’t you just say ‘you’re welcome?’” you shouted in irritation, your voice echoing off the walls of the empty corridor.

He turned his head back to you, showing you a cheeky grin. “I guess I like to make things difficult for you, too.” You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the little quirk up of your lips. He was still looking over his shoulder—the one on which you rested your head—and you suddenly realized how uncomfortably close your faces were to each other. You hastily straightened yourself up, jolting so much that Taehyung almost dropped you. Your face burned like never before now and you decided that it would be best to keep your head up for the rest of the walk, or else you may be subjected to the same view of Taehyung’s deep and captivating eyes.

You were scratching an ink pen across some parchment while seated at your desk, sipping on a cup of warm tea and thoroughly relishing in the silence of just you and the soft rain against the window. It was the late afternoon, just dark enough to rely on candlelight to work at your desk with the wonderful burning scent permeating the air of the large room. It felt as if recently you had been getting less and less time to have for yourself, which usually wouldn’t bother you so much since you were always cooped up in your room when you were younger, but you had no time to destress, so you used your time to relieve all the tension you’ve been feeling recently thanks to a certain someone. You heard a knock on the door, which you purposely ignored in hopes that the visitor would get the message and go away. Without bothering to wait for a response, however, said person waltzed through the door without a care in the world, revealing himself to be none other than Sir Taehyung. “Good afternoon, Princess. Sorry I wasn’t around all morning, I had some mandatory training.”

“Don’t be sorry. It was extremely pleasant,” you mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear, gathering your pile of papers into a messy stack and shoving them hurriedly into your desk drawer as he neared you, peering over your shoulder.

He brushed off your blow to his ego with ease, instead changing the subject, “What have you got there?” His eyes followed the nervous movement of your hands.

“It’s nothing,” you explained curtly, not bothering to try hiding your annoyance. “Please just mind your own business.” You waved him off, locking your drawer and creating distance between the two of you as you felt him hovering, although still limping on your injured ankle.

He became strangely serious in a mere few seconds, his brows furrowing and the edges of his lips turning downwards. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, Princess.”

“Yeah, well you sure have a knack for that,” you retorted sarcastically taking a seat on the edge of your bed. You glanced to Taehyung and he now seemed pretty peeved, and you began to wonder if you were taking things too far.

“Look, I’m just trying to be friendly,” he justified.

You should take that as a valid reason to lay off of him, but for some reason you were so angry. Maybe you weren’t necessarily angry at him, but you were angry with your situation, and he was the easiest to blame, so that’s exactly what you did. “Well, stop. I don’t want to be friends. I don’t want you around at all.”

As you felt the air in the room suddenly become strained, this time, Taehyung remained silent, which was a rare occurrence since he always had to have the last word. You easily could have stopped there, but there was no telling when you would be able to shut yourself up now. “But no. You’re always around, trying to make my life miserable, I’m sure. I can’t stand it!”

He scoffed, finally losing the last bit of his cool composure, becoming angry. You should have known his facade would come crashing down sooner or later since this was the only manner in which you had spoken to him since he was knighted a little over two weeks beforehand, and he was probably getting a little tired of it by now. “How do you think I feel? The only reason I’m even here is because I’m just doing my job! I miss my friends back in the barracks. I’d much rather spend my days with them than with a stuck up princess like you!”

“Stuck up?” you questioned, offended, whether you had a right to be or not, you dismissed.

He took a step forward, letting his sincerity be shown. “Yes. You’re a stuck up brat. You get anything you could possibly want, and yet the only words I’ve ever heard from you are complaints! Trust me, no one would willingly spend any time around you!” You couldn’t hide the fact that what he just said had actually hurt you. It all went back to the fact that the townspeople frequently badmouthed you, and your ladies-in-waiting never spoke back. Was he right? “Do you know how difficult you are to put up with?” His voice becoming louder by the second, only making your desire to fight back even stronger.

“Well, same goes to you! You’re a handful yourself, with your nosiness and all that!” you shouted back at him, pointing a finger at his face to stress your annoyance. “I’m glad there’s at least one thing we can agree on!”

“Yeah? What’s that?” he sarcastically expressed wonder, although he truly didn’t what the two of you could possibly share.

“We both hate this arrangement!” you yelled.

“Yeah alright, whine all you want, but you have no idea what actual hardships are! You’ve been served on a silver platter your entire life! You’ve never had to do a goddamn thing for yourself! I’m surprised you even know how to breathe without someone helping you do that, too!” You defensively crossed your arms over your chest. You really did have everything handed to you, though not necessarily by choice. “I’ve had to work so hard to get where I am today!”

“Oh, please. Everyone knows you’re a prodigy.”

“You know nothing!” You wanted to throw his insults back at him, but with the way his breathing became uneven, you decided that retorting might be a mistake. “My father was one of the most skilled and most noble knights anyone had ever known. I admired him and I wanted to be just like him. So badly. All I ever wanted was to make him proud, so I worked my ass off day and night to even be considered as a trainee. Then, you know what? Your fool of a father sent him off to war and got him killed!” he bellowed in rage, causing you stop short at his sudden violent shout.

He was seething and his hands were tightly clenched at his sides as he no longer looked you in the eye, his eyes instead focusing on the far corner of the room. “And now he’ll never see his son be just like him.” His face softened and his hands let loose as the tension in his muscles began to dissolve.

You were frozen in place, already beginning to feel terribly guilty for blaming him for your troubles when it wasn’t even his fault, and then you had to discover this tragic past of his. You knew you shouldn’t speak and just let Taehyung have some space to think, but you couldn’t stop the words from leaving your mouth. “I… I’m sure he’s very proud of you… wherever he is.” Your voice was small and timid, but you hoped maybe he would find some sort of comfort in your words.

Instead, his expression hardened once again, forcing a cold stare to meet your gaze. “Yeah, well, he’s not here, so I guess it doesn’t matter now, does it?” His intimidating eyes didn’t leave yours for a few moments until he finally turned on his heel without a word and left, slamming the door behind him.

Four tense days had passed since Taehyung lost his composure in front of you like that, and you hadn’t seen much of him since. You couldn’t blame him, after all, since all you had been trying to do since he was assigned to you was just that: drive him away. Now he hadn’t spoken a word to you recently, instead opting for sitting outside your bedroom door and keeping a good distance away from you at all times when he had to accompany you somewhere, which was only around the palace so far since you couldn’t even think about asking him to take you anywhere else with the stiff and strained atmosphere that followed wherever the both of you went. Now that he wasn’t around anymore and you had finally achieved your initial goal, you realized how big of a mistake that was. You were never looking for it to become this bad, and as much as you hate to admit it, you miss his teasing and his jokes and his sly remarks. As much as they made your blood boil then, you never took the time to realize that it was a breath of fresh air, as no one else would even dare speak to you the way he did. And it was… freeing. Funny how the one person you were sure would completely confiscate your freedom brought you the closest you’d ever come to it.

These thoughts had been occupying your mind for days now, but at this point, they were keeping you awake. You had been pacing throughout your room, your limp finally manageable enough to get around easily on your own, lower lip caught between your teeth, for what felt like an hour contemplating whether you should sneak out to get some air like you were so tempted to do. Finally, you came to the conclusion you weren’t getting any sleep anyway, so you threw on your cloak and a pair of shoes. You tiptoed over to you door and carefully pulled it open, wincing at the way it creaked as you tried to open it slowly and silently in hopes of not waking you night guard who usually fell asleep on the job. When you peaked out of the crack of the door, you saw no one. Your eyes scanned downward as they sensed a presence from below and you found your guard sitting against the wall. Except it wasn’t your night guard. It was Taehyung.

His head still rested against the wall, but his eyes slid over to you now standing just outside your room, drooping as he fought against what seemed like extreme drowsiness to keep them open. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you sleeping?” you whispered. Taehyung was your knight during the day, but at night, he still went back to sleep in the barracks. He was human. He couldn’t be around at all times. So why was he here now?

“Your night guard got thrown out after he was caught sleeping on the job, so I’m taking his position until he is replaced,” he mumbled. You almost laughed at how predictable the termination of your night guard’s job was. Dismissing that, you knelt down next to him and he gave a curious look.

“You must be exhausted,” you sympathized, unable to hide the worry in your voice.

He breathed out a heavy sigh, standing up, surprising you with his sudden energy. “No, not really. I’m okay.” He gave a tight smile. “Now what are you doing up so late? And where were you going dressed like that?” he interrogated, giving a pointed look at your cloak and shoes, making it obvious you were planning to leave the building.

“Nowhere!” you fibbed, a tight smile stretching across your face. Taehyung saw right through it though, tilting his head to the side and raising his eyebrows knowingly. “Alright, fine. I was going to sneak out tonight. I couldn’t sleep and I needed some air.” You chose to leave out the man in front of you was the very reason for your sleeplessness and anxieties, especially because you weren’t even sure why. An idea popped into your head while examining his face, which he probably caught you doing, but you changed the subject quickly. “I’d still like to go. That is, if you’re willing to accompany me.”

He looked bewildered at your ridiculous idea. “Now? At this time of night? I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he worried, shaking his head disapprovingly.

“Please? I just want to go for a walk in the garden. We won’t even be leaving the castle walls!” you begged, but he still looked unconvinced, probably affected by how much he’d rather be sleeping at the moment. “Come on. It’ll be fine,” you grabbed his hand and pulled him after you, and to your surprise, he went along silently.

After cautiously sneaking past more guards who would completely disapprove of your little midnight escapade and convincing the more lenient ones to let you pass, you finally reached the entrance to the royal garden, marked by an impressive flowering archway.

The night air possessed a bit of a chill, causing Taehyung to dig his hands into the pockets of his pants while you wrapped your cloak around you tighter. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it would be cold. We can go back inside if you want,” you suggested catching the slight chatter of his teeth.

“No, it’s alright,” he insisted, shaking his head. “I’ve never been here before anyway, so I’d like to see it.”

Your surprise was easily showcased in your expression, causing Taehyung to chuckle at the comic widening of your eyes. It never occurred to you that most people didn’t have the pleasure of wandering these gardens like you often did, and quite frankly, took advantage of. You forced yourself to return to a neutral state, calmly glancing at your surroundings, characterized with patches of multicolored flowers lining the stoney walkways. “Well, I’m glad that I’m the one who has the honor to show you around.” You flashed him a quick smile before picking up your pace and tilting your head to have him follow along.

Although you were slowed down by your still-healing ankle, Taehyung was patient and let you lead the way, completely endeared by your childlike enthusiasm. You led him along the widest cobblestone path to a wooden bridge stretching from one side of a creek running through the garden to the other. When the both of you reached the middle of the bridge, you sighed leaning on your elbows on the railing, looking over into the water below. “Welcome to my favorite part of this garden.”

Taehyung would be lying if he said it wasn’t a little… underwhelming, but he assumed there must be a reason it gave you that sparkling, dreamlike look in your eyes. He followed your lead and leaned over the railing as well, looking down and being met with both of your reflections in the rippling water, easy to be seen thanks to the bright moonlight. After he was done studying the mirror image of the both of you side-by-side, he turned his attention to the several flowers resting atop the surface of the water. “Water lilies,” you spoke softly as he looked up to you meeting your gaze as you had already been looking for his reaction. “I know this really isn’t much, but I really love those flowers, so this bridge just became my favorite place.”

Taehyung continued to observe the scenery. “No, I think I get it,” he contemplated. “There’s something special about them, and that’s why you love them.” He let his gaze wander back to you, once again staring down at the white and pink petals in the water, and finished his thought without thinking, “They’re different… like you.”

Your face contorted into a hesitant laugh as you weren’t sure whether that was meant to be one of his jokes he often throws at you or not. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Taehyung tried to hide the panic he felt after letting his words slip, and he covered it up with a lighthearted chuckle. “Come on. We both know you’re not normal, Princess.”

If it had been a few days ago, you would have gotten angry with him because of a remark like that, but today, you were only able to laugh along with him, feeling relieved that you didn’t have to be upset with him all the time. However, one thing he said bothered you. “(Y/n),” you corrected softly.

Taehyung only tilted his head and slightly squinted his eyes, a question obviously on the tip of his tongue. “Call me (y/n) from now on.” His eyes shook with surprise. “The title princess really is just too much for me. I’m tired of being the princess. I want to be just (y/n) for once.”

He gave you what you thought was the first genuine smile you’d ever seen from him as he quietly agreed, “Okay.” You felt weight float off your shoulders knowing that right there, right then, you didn’t have any expectations to meet. It was just you, and him, and the moonlight’s beams on your favorite flowers below.

You shifted uncomfortably, hating to bring up the subject, but you knew you had to say it at some point. “I’m sorry for all the horrible things I’ve said to you by the way.” Taehyung shifted, resting his chin in his palm and facing you a bit more, a smile still dancing on his face despite you becoming more solemn. “I was never actually angry with you. I just thought I was.” There was so much more you wished to say, but the words wouldn’t form, so you let silence take the lead.

Taehyung didn’t respond verbally, but he gave a nod and an understanding smile that gave you enough assurance that you were forgiven.

You wanted to ask about one more thing that had been weighing heavily on you mind ever since you had argued with Taehyung. “By the way… did you mean what you said the other day?” he gives you a questioning look, signaling you to clarify. “That no one would actually willingly spend time with me? I guess that makes sense since the only person around here that I consider a friend… isn’t really a friend… and I don’t really talk to anyone.” You couldn’t prevent the tears that began to pool in your eyes as you finally acknowledge out loud the loneliness you’d just simply become accustomed to. “Well, except for you.” You let out a weak chuckle, the squint of your eyes pushing a stray tear to roll down your cheek.

Feeling guilty at his words whether he meant them that night or not, Taehyung reached out to you,  contemplating whether to wipe your tears, or grab your hand, or maybe that was too much. He retracted his hand. “No. I didn’t mean that. I was just angry. I’m sorry,” he spoke firmly but genuinely, hoping that you would believe him.

The two of you let silence fill the space between you, which, you both noted, had somehow decreased exponentially from when you first arrived on the bridge. Hearing Taehyung let out another shiver, the cold of night still present, you suggested with a shy smile, still sniffling, “Let’s go back inside.”

You two successfully snuck yourselves back to the hallway just outside your bedroom door and you opened the door, prepared to be welcomed by the inviting comfort of your bed, but you stopped as Taehyung slumped against the wall once again, ready to resume his night guard duties. You wanted to slap yourself for the words that were about to escape you, but you couldn’t bare to leave him out there while you slept the rest of the night away. “Why don’t you come inside and get some sleep?” He gave you look to let you know you were just as insane as you sounded.

“Do you know what could happen to me if I got caught staying in the princess’ bedroom over night?”

You rolled your eyes, but also felt a blush creep onto your cheeks at the implications. “You can just sleep on the window seat—which is super comfortable by the way— and no one would ever know. And even if someone did find out, I could easily explain the situation. There’s no way you can be expected to stay out there all night with no sleep.”

While Taehyung’s rational side was giving him every signal for no, the soft call of sleep was louder than any alarm going off in his head, so he finally accepted your offer. You led him over to lay on the window seat, then you brought him a few extra pillows and a blanket. “Wait,” he suddenly voiced, causing you to stop in your tracks on the way to your own bed in search of sleep. “What if someone comes after you and I’m not awake to notice?” he worried, eyes widened.

You had to laugh at his innocence. “First of all, that won’t happen, but if it does, I’m sure you’ll wake up to protect me.” you smiled down at him, seemingly calming his nerves. You finally reached your soft mattress, tucking yourself into the silky sheets and resting your head on the fluffy pillows. “Goodnight,” you called across the room as you blew out the candle on your desk.

“Goodnight,” you heard him softly echo, sounding as if he’s already on the brink of sleep. You watched his outline lit up by the moonlight finally still and turned yourself over once you assumed Taehyung had gotten some rest for himself, eyes fluttering shut now that you finally had some peace of mind.

You had just finished up with a dress-fitting that you were suddenly called to early in the morning, which confused you since there was usually a reason for these things, but as far as you knew there was nothing special to have a new dress made for. Your ladies walked you back to your bedroom since you decided it would probably be a little inappropriate if Taehyung was around while you were being fitted. You reached your room and dismissed the two women following just behind you with a small nod and a polite smile.

You found Taehyung already waiting for you, sitting on the bench at the foot of your mattress, examining the cover of a book. “A Lover’s Temptation,” he drawled out, reading its title before giving you an openly judgmental stare. You gasped, rushing over to where he sat as he choked back a laugh at your blushing cheeks, wrestling the book from his hands as he fought to lift it out of your reach. You knew the two of you had become more comfortable around each other since that night in the garden, but this was just a bit too much. You finally pried it from his grip and playfully smacked him with it on the shoulder with a “Hey!” feigning annoyance, but giving him a genuine smile nonetheless. He mirrored with a gleaming grin of his own, leaning back onto his hands looking up at you.

You tucked the book back into its place in your mahogany shelves, turning around defensively crossing your arms over your chest with a pout. “Listen, I know it’s cheesy,” you defended, “but I was running out of things to read.”

“Running out?” he questioned with doubt, eyes traveling up and down your towering shelf filled to its full capacity with tightly-squeezed books, almost to the point that it looked as if it would fall apart if one more page were to be added. “You sure like reading, don’t you?”

“I do! And yes, I’ve already read all of those,” you stated matter-of-factly. “It’s easy when you spend as much time trapped in this castle as I do.”

The edges of Taehyung’s lips turned down in sympathy as he could hear the bitterness behind the laugh you covered it up with. “What about the palace library? Don’t they have anything to read?” he suggested.

“Oh, there’s plenty of books in there, alright,” you mused, “but they’re no good. Most of them are just historical records of the royal family.” You swiftly turned back to the shelf, searching through the multitude of titles. “Although, there was one book that I found in the library. It’s actually my favorite! It’s this tragic love story about—” you began veering off on a tangent until Taehyung cut it short.

The term “tragic love story” setting off an alarm in his head, causing him to cut you off, he groaned, “Please tell me it’s not Romeo and Juliet.”

“No way,” you laughed in disbelief, turning around with the book you were searching for in hand, cradled tightly to your chest. “That book is so unrealistic. It’s impossible to fall in love in one night. Love is patient. It takes time.” You let a shy smile slowly grow on your face, a gleam in your eye as you pondered about the realness and rawness of true love, the type you always dreamed about, reflected in your many hours invested in reading romance novels, cheesy or not. You hadn’t noticed it, Taehyung hadn’t even realized himself, but he couldn’t take his eyes off your beautiful lips and the way they formed your smile, and without knowing, it became one of his favorite sights.

You snapped out of your thoughts, blinking slowly and returning your attention to your conversation with Taehyung. “Anyways, it’s a story written hundreds of years ago by a court poet within this very castle. He fell in love with his princess, and she loved him back, but they couldn’t be together because she had to marry a prince. He wrote about his heartbreak and the pains of falling in love, and I can’t help but hurt every time I read it,” you explained sadly, knowing that one day you yourself would marry a prince, and now more than ever for some reason, you feared the prospect of falling in love with someone else. “Despite that, though, it’s a fantastic book. You really should read it.” You held the book out to him, a hopeful smile suddenly on display.

He waved his hand dismissively, not wanting to be rude, but completely uninterested. He’d much rather hear you talk about it once more. “Actually, I don’t read much.”

“Well, then, this is the perfect way to start! It’s simple and easy to understand, and it’s not long!” you insisted. Taehyung shook his head once more, trying to resist even though your excitement made it extremely difficult. “Please?” you asked one last time.

He sighed, finally giving in and taking the book you held out for him, “Fine.” Since when did he become so easily swayed by you? Of course, he wasn’t actually going to read it. He just said he would to see that smile on your face one more time.

Your father called you for a meeting in the throne room early in the morning only a few days after Taehyung had come to realize just how much that smile meant to him. He had tried his best calming your nerves on the way there as you knew that meetings so early in the morning never brought the best of news. Now you stood before your father, seated in his throne before you as per usual, however, what was out of the ordinary, were the several unfamiliar men standing to the side of him, seemingly waiting as well for your arrival. Taehyung, who had been close by your side just on the other side of the door, moved away from you and took his place standing by the door, waiting until you were ready to leave the room once again. You walked further into the room, but cast a glance back to him over your shoulder, and he smiled encouragingly, sensing your hesitance.

You finally stopped once you were standing before the steps up to the throne, nervously gazing up to your father, but still taking quick glances at the three men standing around him. He cleared his throat before speaking, “(Y/n), you’re 21 years of age now, and as you know, you have some responsibilities to fill now that you have come of age.” Suddenly your mouth ran dry in realization. This was why you were woken up so early without notice and forced into an unusually tight and uncomfortable dress. This was why you suddenly had so much more official work and training to complete. This was why you were mysteriously fitted for a new dress. For a ball. For a suitor’s ball. These men were suitors.

“One of those duties is marriage. I have chosen these three princes as candidates for you to marry. I expect you to treat them with hospitality during their stay here.” You always thought that when this moment came, you would only feel numb because you had imagined this scenario so many times in your head, but in actuality, it hurt and you wanted to scream and cry because for some reason you let yourself hope for one second that love might come to you instead of being forced into it. You had to hold your breath to keep from letting out a sob. You couldn’t lose your composure in front of these suitors, or else it could ruin everything. Instead, you took shallow breaths and kept your bottom lip between your teeth to hide its quivering. You only nodded. That was all you could bring yourself to do.

“These young men are princes from neighboring kingdoms. First is Prince Seokjin from the Kim Kingdom.” The tallest of the three, with wide shoulders and a handsome face, stepped forward, a polite and well-trained neutral expression on his features. He seemed several years older than you. As tradition goes, you held out your hand for him to press a kiss to your knuckles, despite how difficult it was to release the tight grip you had on your skirt that surely crumpled the expensive material.

“Next is Prince Yoongi of the Min Kingdom.” The man in the middle, the shortest of the three, stepped forward and did the same, pressing his lips to your knuckles, but his face was mysterious and unreadable.

“Lastly, Prince Hoseok from the Jung Kingdom.” The last man swiftly stepped forward and took your hand, holding a bit longer than the two princes before had done, stopping to look into your eyes, giving a charming smile. However there was a hint of worry or sympathy or something you couldn’t quite place in his eyes, and you assumed he could see right through your facade, making you wonder if it was as obvious to the other princes as well. He pressed a kiss to the top of your hand as well and stepped back, keeping his careful eyes trained on you.

“We will have a ball tomorrow night in order for you to meet them properly. After that, it is up to you to get to know them and make a decision,” your father concluded.

You breathed deeply through your nose hoping desperately that your voice would come across as steady. “I understand, Father. I will do so.” You forced a tight smile and nodded to each of the suitors before hastily turning on your heel, letting restrained tears fall just as your face had escaped their line of sight.

You saw Taehyung still waiting in his place, hands clasped behind his back and his usual stone cold expression donned on his face when working in front of your father. Whether it was to maintain an air of professionalism or to mask his secret hatred for your father, you weren’t sure, but you do know that today was the first time you saw the stone crack, his lips parting and his eyes following you intently as he observed the glistening on your cheeks.

You pushed the doors open yourself and walked up the stairs and through the lengthy hallways with silent tears, Taehyung following closely behind, not sure how to make it better. He knew it wasn’t part of his job to make it better, but he didn’t care because you weren’t just a job anymore. He cared about you, but that didn’t mean anything because he was just your knight and as much as it hurt him to accept, there was no way he could help you. All he could do was watch as his favorite smile crumbled before him, eroded away and replaced by bitter tears.

You reached your room and melted down, sitting on the soft mattress of your bed that usually brought comfort, but instead today, it felt as if you were falling straight through to the ground. Now that you were alone in your bedroom, just you and your loyal knight who still stood right beside you, yet not making a move, you could finally stop hiding. Letting go, a sob ripped through your chest so violently that you doubled over, hands gripping at the hair in the back of your head.

You felt a hesitant touch on your back and your hands came down and rested on your knees as you sat upright again. Before you knew it, the comfort of the warm palm was gone again. “Please don’t cry,” Taehyung whispered. He knew that’s not what you needed to hear, but that was all he said. That was all he could say for he felt he was already overstepping the boundary between princess and knight. Suddenly, his breath hitched in his throat as he felt your head nuzzle into his chest as you continued to cry, desperately gripping onto the material of his shirt. He knew he shouldn’t do what he so badly wished to do, but he couldn’t hold himself back any longer, so he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you even closer, trying his best just to do his job which was to protect you from the evil in this world, even if this evil was inescapable.

It was all far too familiar. The way you were constricted in a tight dress in a way that showed off your body in order to somehow impress while also staying modest. The way you looked at yourself in the mirror and saw the ghost of your hope hovering like a rain cloud over your head, occupied by miserable and tired eyes. It had been this way before, when you were preparing for Taehyung’s knighting ceremony, but somehow this was worse. Before, you were scared of losing freedom that you never really had. Now, you knew that after finally feeling liberation in the form of deep brown eyes and a rectangular smile, everything would really be snatched from right before your eyes. You weren’t exactly sure why your mind lingered on your knight when anxiety about your future marriage ensued. Taehyung was your friend. Surely, he would still be there after it was all over, right?

Speaking of the knight, you would not be seeing him until you arrived at the ball, and even when you were there, he would be serving as a regular guard since your father thought it be a bad idea to have someone lingering around while you were supposed to be spending time with the suitors. The thought made your frown deepen as you realized you would be stuck for hours making small talk with people you had no desire to know. However, Taehyung had promised you he would be there for you to go to when you were feeling anxious, which you were sure would happen in several instances tonight.

Jiwoo helped you down from the step stool, smoothing out the wide skirt of your gown one last time before leading you to the ballroom along with your other ladies-in-waiting. The ball had already started, but of course, you were going to arrive a bit late in order to make a grand entrance. This just so happened to be the exact opposite of what you wanted, knowing the moment you step foot inside the dance hall, all eyes would be on you, criticizing every move you made.

As the grand doors swung open and your presence was announced by the man with the staff by the door, it played out just as you expected. All heads turned towards you, scrutinizing gazes picking apart every part of your wardrobe, your actions, your composure. You gave a regal wave and carefully descended the stairs, met at the bottom by a gloved hand stretched out to take yours in its grasp. Your eyes followed the fingertips up to the face of the body they belonged to, finding the charming face of Prince Seokjin, smiling up at you as he helped you down the last few steps. He leaned in close, whispering in your ear, “Good evening, Princess. You look wonderful tonight.” You were still jittery from seeing the attendees had still not lost interest in your arrival, but the prince’s sudden proximity did nothing to help your nerves. “May I have this dance?” he requested, already leading you to the center of the marble floors.

The people watched for the first few steps of your dance before eventually returning to their own agendas, leaving just a few select eyes on you. As Prince Seokjin began to make small talk with you, you looked around observing the gazes you still felt were those of your father, of course, the two other princes observing closely from the edge of the room, and a few other extraneous sets of eyes from other partygoers. Seokjin talked about his and your kingdom's respective economies and how your marriage could possibly benefit the both of them while you scanned the room for one particular person, and finally you found him. He had been leaning against a decorative pillar and you could have sworn you caught his eyes flick away when you had found him. He looked bored, even borderline irritated, which you couldn’t blame him for as you were feeling the same way yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Seokjin, he had a pleasant air about him and a wonderful, regal smile. It was the fact that you knew just by how he spoke that he wasn’t interested in marrying you for love, but because it was his duty as soon-to-be-king of his land.

The song finally ended and the two of you parted after he gave a deep bow which you returned with a polite curtsy. You turned on your heel in order to make it to where you saw Taehyung standing before, but he was no longer there when you searched once again. Refraining from letting a confused pout show itself in front of all these important people, you decided to take a walk around and greet some guests. You conversed with some older dukes and duchesses, them asking about your plans for the future and you answering with a very complex and diplomatic version of ‘I don’t know.’

You began wandering around through the crowd once more, still keeping an eye out for your knight when the hem of your dress was suddenly caught behind you, making you stumble backwards as you continued to move forward. You felt a hand on your shoulder helping to steady you, and you followed it to find the face of Prince Yoongi. “My apologies, Princess,” he spoke softly once he helped you to stand up straight once again.

“That’s alright,” you insisted with a warm smile. “I’m surprised you’re the first to do that tonight. This dress is a bit difficult to avoid.” You gave a friendly laugh despite the atmosphere soon becoming awkward and stiff as the prince said nothing else even though you stood, expecting something more.

“I’m not going to ask you to dance, if that’s what you’re waiting for.” Your smile faltered, taken aback by his bluntness. “I don’t think either of us really want that.” He turned and ambled away while you mutter a soft and confused ‘thank you,’ although you weren’t really sure whether you should be thankful for that.

You sighed and finally gave in to going over to the food table, secretly hoping Taehyung maybe started camping out there halfway through the night when he inevitably got bored. He wasn’t there either, though, and you couldn’t help but let the fact that your heart sunk in your chest become evident in your entire body expression. After all, he had promised he would be there for you tonight, but here he was, nowhere to be seen when truly you needed him. You took a few glances around to make sure no one was looking before quickly downing a large gulp of one of the glasses of wine they had set out for guests, needing something to lift your spirits.  

“Hello, Princess!” Just as you thought you were safe, you heard a cheerful greeting from your right, causing you to choke on the drink you had hoped no one who catch you with. You put a hand over your mouth, ungracefully coughing as you turned to find Prince Hoseok beaming at you. He quickly began to look worried however, tentatively placing a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you alright?”

You cleared your throat one last time before grinning up at him, unable to stop yourself from laughing at your own embarrassment, which he soon joined once he knew that you were okay. “I’m alright. I just can’t believe I got caught.”

“I can’t blame you. These things do tend to get a little boring,” he sympathized. “I’ve noticed you don’t seem to like crowds too much, either.”

“No, I can’t say that I do. These big formal events have never really been my thing,” you explained, earning an understanding nod from Hoseok.

“In that case, I’ll do you a favor and not ask you to dance.”

“You’re the second person to tell me that tonight!” you laughed. “I guess no one wants to dance with me,” you said, faking a pout.

Hoseok’s face became panicked and he quickly took back his statement. “No, I didn’t mean that! I’d love to dance with you, really! I just thought—”

You stopped him short in his frantic apology, laughing, “I was kidding! Please don’t make me dance.”

His tensed shoulders released as he mirrored your chuckle once again. “You had me worried there,” he sighed. “I thought I had really lost my chances of winning your heart there for a second.” You had completely forgotten that you were supposed to be deciding who you would marry and that this man was one of the candidates, which you supposed was a good thing, that he could take your mind off of it, but you weren’t sure how to interpret the intentions behind the fact that he brought up the subject so casually. Luckily, you were able to have comfortable conversation with Hoseok for the rest of the night without mentioning the dreaded subject of the future again.

You trudged back to your bedroom with your heels in hand since your feet were in stinging pain after having to stand for hours on end at the ball. You were so exhausted, you felt as if you could barely push the door open, but when you finally were able to, you wished you didn’t. You found Taehyung standing at your dresser just beside the drawer observing the little jewelry music box that had been sitting there untouched for years. “Oh, you’re back,” he acknowledged, opening the box to reveal the tiny figurine of a dancing girl and twisting the silver handle on the side of the box, filling the room with its twinkling melody.

You couldn’t hide your annoyance at him as you shut the door behind you a bit harder than usual and drowsily stomped in his direction. “So this is where you’ve been all night?” you questioned, slamming the music box closed and abruptly halting its tune as you passed by, not sparing the knight a glance.

“No, not all night. I went on duty outside for a little while, then I went by the barracks. Now I’m here.” He spoke so casually it boiled your blood even more, which he seemed to finally pick up on. “Are you upset?”

You gave an obvious sigh to point out your exasperation. “Yes, I am upset. Why weren’t you there tonight?” you asked him, letting him know full well that you were angry.

“What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t stand watching you talk with all those princes that only want to marry you.” His voice came out stronger than intended.

You froze, narrowing your eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He hesitated, eyes widening in regret of his previous words before stuttering out, “I-I felt bad for you. You looked so awkward and miserable from what I saw. It was hard to watch.”

“Well, I’m sorry my struggles are so offensive to you,” you scoffed, anger returning when his explanation was nowhere near what you hoped it would be. “That’s why I needed you, though, and you weren’t there! And I’ll have you know that once you left I had a much better time. It turns out Prince Hoseok is quite the conversationalist.”

He felt jealousy bubble up within him and a bitter scowl crept onto his lips. “Then it sounds like you didn’t need me,” he defended, finally turning to face you.

“Yes, but the point is that you promised me you would be there, but you weren’t.” You finally broke the facade of anger and revealed your true disappointment to him, crossing your arms over your chest.

His face softened and he closed the large gap across the room between you until he only stood a few feet away. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have left you when you needed me. I promise it won’t happen again,” he admitted remorsefully, looking down at the ground between you. You could tell his apology was genuine, although you still hadn’t completely forgiven him, you gave him a small smile, reaching out and taking his hand into your own. The way your fingers laced together and your eyes locked with each other’s felt a bit too intimate to be friendly, but that’s all it was. You were just friends.

The next day you awoke to the news that Prince Seokjin had asked you to join him for lunch and a walk through the garden, so you were promptly pampered and prepared for your date that afternoon. You hated that it was referred to as a date, making it feel as if it were something completely different than what was basically a mandatory business meeting. You and Seokjin enjoyed a lovely meal made by your finest chefs and discussed topics ranging from weather to possible battle strategies as he offered his larger army for aid in the war. Once the both of you began your stroll through the garden, Taehyung had the job of trailing far behind, only barely close enough to ensure your safety. You had been feeling his eyes on you every so often throughout your travels, but when Seokjin led you on top of the bridge with the water lilies, stopping to look down at the water with you, you were sure you were feeling his gaze burning into the back of your head.

Before parting ways, you gave Prince Seokjin a curtsy before heading straight away to your poor lonely knight. Although you were both mentally and physically tired, you playfully bounced over to where he stood, examining a particular flower very closely for some reason. He leisurely turned to meet your gaze, however his mood clearly did not match your own, his smile clearly seeming forced upon his lips as it did not travel to his eyes. Your lips immediately turned down in concern. “What’s wrong?”

He let out a weak and once again facetious chortle, insisting, “Nothing. I just don’t particularly enjoy following you and your prince around on your romantic outings.”

You choked back an obnoxious laugh at his interpretation of the date with Seokjin. “Trust me, that was anything but romantic.” You paused in reflection of all that you had conversed about. “I do suppose Prince Seokjin is the most practical choice for marriage, however, considering his ability to turn the tides of this war,” you sighed, trying to rationalize your thoughts into something close to a decision, even though you knew you were still far from making up your mind.

He arched a brow and wore a smug face. “You don’t need some prince and his army to save this kingdom. I can save you and everyone here single-handedly,” he boasted, gesturing to himself in a grand way.

You laughed as what you assumed was a joke and gave him a pat on the shoulder saying “I’m sure you could.” Little did you know, however, it really hadn’t been a joke on Taehyung’s part. He was just envious that you thought you had to depend on anyone besides him. You noticed his still somewhat sour mood, still not believing his response was truthful when you asked him if he was alright, so you suggested something that would hopefully give both of you an opportunity to have some peaceful time together away from the castle. “I need you to accompany me somewhere. We’re leaving the palace grounds,” you requested bluntly, already heading to get your cloak.

“Leaving the palace? I don’t think we can do that,” he warned, eyeing you with uncertainty as you clasped the front of the dark material together and placed the hood over your head.

You grasped him by the elbow and childishly pulled him along with you, taking several tugs before you finally were able to make him budge. “Sure we can. As long as you’re with me, everything should be just fine.” After offering him a cheeky smile, he finally caved in with a dramatic sigh, letting you pull him excitedly in the direction of the elaborate iron entrance gate.

Taehyung, the ever-alert and observant knight he was, felt a pair of eyes following your path as you dragged him outside the walls towards the town. He looked around behind him and found Prince Yoongi staring with his lips pressed together tightly, forming a thin line of suspicion, from a balcony on the second floor, before he slowly sunk back into his room, hands folded behind his back.

Both of you made it to the heart of the town where the lives of the people buzzed most energetically, everyone bustling through the square to finish their many errands before the sun goes down. You smiled brightly and clasped your hands together as you watched a young giggling boy dash past you as several other children chased after him. Taehyung had to remind himself that this perfectly normal lifestyle, one that he used to be a part of before training to become a knight and still returns to when he visits his mother living on the other side of town, was completely foreign to you, so you were bound to be entertained by little things like a game of tag. You took a moment to take in the world around you, stopping in your tracks in the middle of the crowded street. Even though you had been to the village several times before, it never ceased to amaze you. The crescendo of loud voices and the occasional laughter as you went further into its hearth made you feel like you lived in silence back in the palace.

Taehyung suddenly jerked you quickly to the side of the pathway, mumbling a shy apology to the man with the cart filled with pastries glaring at you as you blocked his path. “No offense, (y/n), but I don’t think you’re fit for this town,” Taehyung laughed, gazing down at you. You faked a scowl as you began once again leading him to your desired destination.

You finally stood before a humble little building with an obviously handmade sign above the door displaying its use. Taehyung breathed in deeply before sighing, “Really? Out of all the places we could have gone, you chose the library?”

You rolled your eyes at him, pushing the door open. “Come on, just let me have my fun.”

A bell rung as the door opened and a man emerged from a door behind the desk in the corner of the shop. “Your highness! It’s been a while since I’ve seen your beautiful face around here,” he welcomed you, a dimpled smile on his face.

“Nice to see you, Namjoon! I’ve been dying to get back here to find something new to read.” You return his smile before excitedly rushing over to the opposite wall made up entirely of shelves filled with books. “And, of course, to see you again,” you added with a teasing smile. You often spoke in this flirtatious manner with him, but you were nothing more than simple friends. It was easy to befriend him quickly because he didn’t know your true identity when you visited his library the first few times, so you could have a normal conversation with him, but even when he discovered you were the princess, he treated you no differently and you both remained friends, just as before. Both of you knew that, too. However, Taehyung didn’t.

Taehyung narrowed his eyes in distaste as Namjoon laughed at your comment wondering why you were suddenly so bold with this man he’d never even heard of before. “Who’s this?” Namjoon wondered, staring pointedly at Taehyung, his eyebrows subconsciously furrowing when he caught Taehyung’s scowl.

You tore your eyes away from the row of titles you were inspecting to answer him. “This is Taehyung. He was appointed as my knight. Luckily, with him around, I have a lot more freedom to come here more often,” you explained turning back to continue your search. Taehyung wasn’t sure he wanted that.

“Ah, yes, well you should still be careful, your highness. It’s dangerous out there these days,” he warned.

Your scanning eyes faltered for a moment. “Yes, I’ve heard,” you spoke solemnly.

Namjoon seemed to notice the dip in your mood at the mention of the war, so he attempted to lift your spirits once again. “I have new arrivals by the way!” he piped up, grabbing several books from behind his desk. “They’re all written by people of this town. We’ve got some talented writers in this kingdom.” He held them out for you, putting the remaining away as you chose one to take back home with you. “Hopefully, some day, I’ll have a book of yours on these shelves,” he sighed. “How’s the writing going, anyway?”

A blush spread across your cheeks at the mention of your writing, a subject you discussed with no one except for Namjoon. You glanced out of the corner of your eye in embarrassment to find Taehyung staring in curiosity. “Don’t get your hopes up,” you laughed bashfully. “I’ve gotten nowhere.”

You finally checked out your book of choice and talked a bit more with Namjoon before it was time to leave. You gave a quick goodbye and had to remind Taehyung to say something as well, wondering why he was being so abnormally quiet.

Once you stepped outside, the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky an orange-pink color. You took note that the streets had emptied considerably as most probably huddled inside their homes to eat dinner with their families at this time. You would be worried that your father would be angry that you skipped on supper, but luckily for you, family dinners didn’t really exist anymore for the two of you, one of the many things that changed after your mother’s passing. You enjoyed the fading sounds of the town as you walked away from it, quickly becoming covered up by the buzz of cicadas. The tranquil environment was joined by the deep, rumbling voice of Taehyung, complimenting the sounds of nature perfectly. “So, you write books?” he questioned, staring ahead. “You’ve never told me anything about that.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest when you began to feel the night’s chill. “I don’t really tell anyone about that.”

Taehyung’s lips turned down in confusion and, there it was again, jealousy. “Well, you told Namjoon about it.”

“Yeah, that’s because—” you cut yourself off, squinting your eyes for better vision in the darkening night while getting a few steps in front of Taehyung for a better view of his face. “Wait… Are you jealous?”

Taehyung said nothing. He only continued walking back to the castle, eyes set on the now-visible gates and hands stuffed in his pockets. You couldn’t take that as a definitive answer, but you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face, secretly liking the idea of Taehyung getting jealous over you. “Well, you should let me read what you’ve got sometime,” he suggested, a smile ghosting his lips.

You shook your head in embarrassment. “No way. It’s not good, and I don’t even have time to do it. It’s just a stupid idea.”

Taehyung spoke seriously once again, finally turning to face you with sincerity in his eyes. “Don’t say that, (y/n). It’s about damn time you do something for you and no one else.” You hated to admit that he almost induced tears with how much you resonated with what he said. He added lightheartedly with a smirk, “Besides, I’m sure anything you write can be better than that other book you gave me.”

“Hey, that’s my favorite book you’re talking about!” you scolded him. You paused in realization for a moment before a huge smile spread across your face as you realized his true intention behind what he said. “You actually read the book! You were just too shy to actually say it!” you teased.

“I’m not shy,” he mumbled through a smile, his ears burning red. You hummed in response, although you made it be known you were not convinced. “Just don’t tell my friends, okay? They’ll think I’m a softie.”

You laughed, endeared by his stubbornness. The fact that he actually listened to you and was interested in what you liked made your heart thump in your chest. He was making your heart beat like this far too often recently, and you know it should be worrying, but it just felt too good to care.

‘Another day, another date’ was becoming your motto these days as every morning for the past five days you woke up to hearing you had an outing planned with one of the princes. So far, Prince Hoseok was the easiest to get along with while Prince Seokjin was the most practical choice. Today was only your first interaction with Prince Yoongi, however, and you dreaded it due to how your first official meeting at the ball went. You were told he would meet you in the ballroom, which you already found odd since that room was only ever used for public events.

You entered through the formal entrance and found Yoongi sitting at the grand piano on the far side of the room. You had to walk down the stairs to reach him and you felt so wrong descending without wearing one of your elaborate and expensive ball gowns. Instead you wore one of your casual dresses, which contrary to what one would believe, still lacked comfortability and functionality. As you crossed the expansive room, you looked down at your reflection in the marble while listening to the melody that Yoongi played. It was soft and sweet, but there was a melancholic tinge in its minor chords. His eyes were closed and he was focused solely on the notes the ivory keys played. You cleared your throat timidly when you reached him and his eyes finally fluttered open. “Have a seat.” He patted the spot next to him on the bench before returning his hands to the keys.

You awkwardly sat as close to the edge as possible, still confused as to what exactly you were doing here. “So, what’s the plan for today?” you wondered, a tight smile tugging at your lips. He said nothing and only shrugged with a slight shake of his head. “Are we just sitting here while you play the piano? I suppose I wouldn’t mind that, actually…” you trailed off thoughtfully.

“I had a feeling,” he mumbled. His hands began to slow down, the melodic piece coming to an end and you were surprisingly disappointed.

“So, what was this for exactly?” You curiously eyed him, waiting for some sort of explanation although you weren’t sure of you would get one since it seems he’s a man of few words.

Surprisingly, however, he gave you the answer you were seeking. “I just thought I’d give you a break from the whole speed dating scene. I know it’s not what you want.” You wanted to thank him, but it worried you that he acknowledged that you didn’t want to get married since this knowledge may cause problems. “Also, I’ve been wanting to use this piano for days, but I thought it would look bad if I came in here on my own,” he admitted. You deadpanned at first, but then you saw the shy smile displayed on his face and marveled at the contrast between the two different sides of him you had seen.

You beamed, continuing to talk about the piano, hoping it would keep him in a light mood, “Yeah, it seems you’re passionate about it.”

Luckily, it seemed to work and his smile, while softer, remained. “It would be nice if I had more time to invest in music, though. Instead, I’ve got a kingdom to run in a few years.” He trailed off, running his hands along the keys. “I know it’s a dumb thing to want, but…”

“No, I get it! I have this crazy dream of being an author,” you tried to relate to him. “As if that could ever work,” you laughed, yet it was void of genuine humor.

You felt him eyeing you from the side before he spoke up, “I knew you weren’t a normal princess.” He smirked and stood from the bench, rounding the piano and heading towards the exit.

“What do you mean by that?” you questioned, hesitantly following him.

“Well, you just aren’t typical, I suppose. You don’t exactly try too hard to be ‘proper.’” You weren’t sure if you were supposed to take that as an insult or not. “You actually have a passion for something, unlike most of the other boring princesses I’ve ever met.” You supposed that was at least slightly true. You had met with other princesses when you were younger and it felt like you were talking to a machine sometimes with how trained and robotic their conversation skills were. “Not to mention, you ate of the forbidden fruit and fell in love with a non-royal.”

Your mouth dropped open as your mind desperately grasped for some sort of explanation to his final claim. He glanced over his shoulder as he heard the clicking of your heels stop behind him. His face was casual, and his voice at first seemed the same way, but if you listened closer, there was a warning nature present in the rumble of his words. “Don’t act so surprised. It wasn’t hard to discover those feelings you have for that knight of yours. You’re a brave one,” he drawled, continuing his nonchalant steps to the door. He spoke over his shoulder one last time, his voice taking on a somber feel this time, “Don’t worry, though. Your secret is safe with me.” With that, he left. You stood in the center of the empty dance floor, physically winded by his revelation. You hadn’t even acknowledged your feelings before for yourself, but when you heard it aloud, you knew it could not be denied. You were left standing, dumbfounded, and even worse, terrified to be in love. True love was a luxury that rarely persisted in this suffocating lifestyle you were born into.

Tonight, Prince Hoseok had invited you on a late-night horseback riding trip on the outskirts of the castle wall. Because he was well trained in swordsmanship, he was able to convince the king to send you out with only him and no knights to accompany you. While you were glad it gave Taehyung a much needed evening off, things became all the more nerve wracking for you when it was just you alone with the prince. Hoseok, you observed throughout your several outings with him, was skilled in keeping the conversation topic from straying to something that might make you uncomfortable or upset, which often stunted the productivity of these outings’ true objectives, but you were thankful nonetheless. However, as time ticked by and weeks passed without any real progress, and all the princes and the king could easily see that was so, Hoseok had no choice but to finally bring up those dreaded topics. He pulled back on his horse’s reins to slow down its speed, and as you noticed him falling behind, you did the same. He wore a gentle smile, just as he always did, but this time there was a hint of guilt behind it. “Princess, I’m aware you don’t like talking about your marriage in the future, but I think it’s time we discuss it.”

You were sure your disappointment was obvious to him, but you were actually having a nice time with him, so you were disheartened to see that hope slip away so easily with only a few words. You had to at least try to act like a proper princess, though, so you lied and agreed, “Of course. You’re right. This can’t be avoided forever.” You turned your steed around and guided him back closer to the prince.

“I’ve been thinking, (y/n)...” You were taken aback for a moment at the sudden use of your name. You felt guilty for becoming somewhat angry since he was such a wonderful person as you had come to know, but for some reason it just sounded wrong coming from him. It only felt right when it was vocalized in Taehyung’s deep and comforting octave. “I don’t want to make the decision for you, but I think we should be married.”

This time you made no effort to hide your bewilderment. Prince Hoseok had never been so forward and now he practically proposed to you with no problem at all. He reached out for you with shaking hands as he tried to support his claim. “I know! I know it sounds crazy, but if you’ll just hear me out,” he said carefully before lowering his hands and pausing, waiting for your reaction. When you said nothing, he continued, swallowing as he observed that your face was still displeased. “Although we haven’t gotten very much time to know each other, I really do enjoy your company. I know that all of this is not at all what you want, but if we have to do this, then I think I can see a future for us where I can make you happy… if you let me.” He had stumbled over his words several times, but that only went to further attest to what you were sure was sincerity.

You knew you should have taken that much more to heart, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t handle any of this right now. Your head was spinning and you were far too overwhelmed. You didn’t want to come to terms with your future if the one person you imagined it with couldn’t be a part of it. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, eyes unfocused. “I don’t think this is a good time to talk about this.”

Before he was able to say another word, you had your horse sprint off and hoped he wouldn’t follow. He didn’t. You couldn’t do it. You had always been terrified of the day this would come, but now that it was here, you couldn’t even bring yourself to accept it.

Without thinking, you rode over to the knights and trainees’ barracks, dismounting from your horse and leaving him at the front gate. You received many shocked reactions, most of them never having seen their princess in the flesh before, and knights whispering to one another as you passed them by. You hated that you had to speak to these strangers while your voice still quivered, but you knew there was no way you would be able to find Taehyung on your own in this mess of people.

You approached a group of men who had been engrossed in their own conversation and had not noticed your presence until you spoke to them. “Excuse me, I’m looking for Sir Taehyung. Do you know where he could be?” Before you had finished speaking all three of them dropped to their knees before you. Feeling frustrated you begged for them to stand back up, tears pricking your eyes as you felt more isolated than ever when you looked around as all those who gave confused and panicked faces before followed them and dropped to their knees as well.

Your breathing felt constricted as you became suffocated by the panic that continued to build up within you. As you desperately searched for one person near you that wasn’t bowing, you suddenly spotted a head of dirty blond hair, being the only one who remained standing. “Taehyung!” you exclaimed to yourself, hoping it wasn’t loud enough for others to hear your lack of formalities. You ran to him and wanted nothing more than to throw your arms around him and cry into his chest like he’s let you do before, but with all these eyes on you, you had to be very careful what you did, so you skidded to a stop only a few steps ahead of him. It didn’t take him long to notice the tears plaguing your eyes, giving a worried look and reaching out to you before forcing his face back to a neutral position and bringing his hands back to his sides as he glanced around at his colleagues.

You heard heavy footsteps from behind you accompanied by a vaguely familiar voice bellowing, “Is everything alright, Your Highness?” You quickly wiped the tears from your eyes, though you were sure it would not do much help, and turned slowly to be faced with an older bearded man that you had seen at several meetings your father held with high officials and military leaders. You never learned his name, but you knew he was a high ranking captain in your kingdom’s army, and you also knew he had an affinity for sucking up to your father in order to move his way up the ranks. You had a feeling that extended to the princess as well.

“Yes, captain, everything is fine,” you insisted, struggling to keep your words steady. “I was just looking for my knight here.” You gestured back to Taehyung who remained emotionless, wary of his authority. He only hummed, glancing between the both of you before you decided to put an end to whatever thoughts he was processing. “Please, resume your duties. I’ve gotten what I was looking for.” You locked eyes with Taehyung and gave him a plea for help to which he gave a minute nod and led you away from all the onlookers.

You followed him silently while you still felt the wary eyes of the captain locked onto your trail. Taehyung brought you to one of the many small barracks held up by worn wooden planks. He quietly opened the door before letting you in behind him, waving you in when you hesitated for fear of being seen following your knight into his sleeping quarters. As Taehyung carefully pushed the door shut behind him, he turned around at the alarm of your gasp.

Suddenly, there were two boys about the same age as Taehyung hopping off of their beds and kneeling on the wooden floor before you. You looked back to Taehyung in shock, thinking no one else would be around. “What are you guys doing here? You said you would be out in town tonight!” Taehyung fulminated between clenched teeth staring down at the two men he shared his barrack with.

The smaller of the two answered Taehyung quietly, head still facing the ground. “We decided not to. We didn’t realize we would have royal company tonight.”

The other slowly lifted his head up, eyes wide as he looked to Taehyung, making sure his eyes never landed on even a single thread of your clothing. He mumbled shyly, “If you don’t mind me asking, what is Her Highness doing here?” He accidentally let his innocent eyes wander over to your face before taking in a sharp breath through his teeth when he realized his mistake.

You approached the both of them without getting too close for fear of accidentally scaring the poor boy out of his wits. “Please, stand up. You don’t have to bow. Any friend of Taehyung’s is a friend of mine,” you gently commanded, giving them a warm smile when they both finally lifted their heads.

The first of the boys to speak let a tentative grin show itself, questioning you just as you had caught your own mistake, “No formalities? You guys must be pretty close, huh?”

To your surprise, Taehyung didn’t deny like you thought he would, making you think he must trust these guys. “You could say that,” he agreed, biting back a proud smile. The shorter boy gave Taehyung a knowing glance for a reason you couldn’t decipher. Taehyung then cleared his throat directing his attention to you. “(Y/n), these are my roommates and friends, Jimin,” he motioned to the shorter boy who gave you a small nod which you returned, “and Jungkook.” He gestured to the taller boy who still couldn’t meet your eyes when you tried to greet him.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Your Highness. We’ve heard so much about you.” Jimin wore a devious smirk. You caught Taehyung reaching to give him a blow to the back of the head, but when he caught your gaze on him, he grudgingly stopped himself and dropped his arm back to his side. You giggled as Jimin smacked him in the back playfully.

You wanted to fish some more information out of Jimin, but you were interrupted by Jungkook’s quiet voice. “Forgive me for prying, Your Highness, but are you alright? You look like you’ve been crying,” he observed with worry in those big eyes of his. For a moment, you had forgotten the reason you had come in the first place, but you were sure your eyes were still red and puffy from your previous panicking.

The smile fell from your face for a moment and you glanced over to Taehyung who was watching you worriedly before you assured him you were fine. “We should go. Come on, (y/n).” Taehyung was already back to the door leading you out, and you were upset that you were already having to say goodbye to his friends. You wanted to get to know the people that Taehyung liked and you wanted to know what they heard about you, but you knew the longer you stayed, the more chance you had of getting yourself into trouble.

He brings you around to the side of the building in hopes of achieving a little more privacy. “I’m sorry about that, (y/n), I planned to talk to you about whatever happened, but then they were there and messed up everything.”

“Don’t say that. It was nice to see the people you spend time with,” you cheered him up despite your low mood. “Now it’s late, though, and I really should get back to the castle.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be there tomorrow morning and you can talk to me about anything you need to,” he reassured you with an encouraging smile, grazing his fingertips over your forearms and pulling away just as they reached your wrists before he would become tempted to take hold of your hand. You only stared at him, prolonging your visit, your feelings taking control much easier now that you had acknowledged their existence. “Go!” he laughed, shooing you away. “This isn’t the place for a beautiful princess. It’s for gross and sweaty guys, none of which deserve you.” If he had lumped himself in with that group, then he was sorely mistaken, you thought.

You began to return to the castle before you stopped to look back at him once more. He rolled his eyes and began to wave you away again, but you stopped him, pulling his hands down from where they motioned in front of your face. “Okay, I’ll go! Just—” You cut yourself off by wrapping your arms tightly around Taehyung’s torso and pulled yourself closer to him. His eyes were wide and his reaction was delayed.

You backed away and hurried back to the castle without another word, leaving Taehyung behind confused and calling after you, “What was that for?”

You both knew there was something between the two of you that was being left unsaid. Something that both scared and excited you, and Taehyung came to realize both his dream and nightmare could be coming to fruition. That initiation would be coming sooner than he ever imagined when his keen eyes missed the forbidding gaze of the captain hidden just out of sight.

Little did either of you know that someone had witnessed it all. The way a knight called his princess by her name, how the knight looked into his princess’ eyes so fondly and called her beautiful as if he could say it a thousand times more, how the princess and her knight had embraced lovingly without even knowing when the princess was meant to be betrothed to another.

The rough man’s heavy boots pounded into the ground as he followed not far behind you to the castle to request a seeing with the king. He was sure the princess’ father would be entirely thankful to hear of his daughter’s betrayal from his most trusted military leader.

“Your Majesty,” he bowed at the king’s feet. “There is something about the princess that you should know. I believe there is something quite... concerning going on between the princess and that knight of hers.”

The king gave the captain his full attention as he described what he had allegedly seen in the training camp that evening. The king’s hands gripped tightly onto the gilded arm rests of his throne and his forehead creased in worry. “I see. I will have eyes on her tomorrow. If someone reports to me with the same accusation, I will have no choice but to believe it. Thank you.” He buried his face into his palm, dismissing the captain with his free hand. If what the captain said was true, the king would have to put an immediate stop to it somehow. He couldn’t hand you his kingdom he had worked so hard to build only for your delusions of love to throw it all away, for love doesn’t exist and believing only leads to destruction.

Taehyung had already arrived by the time you woke up the next morning with a hot cup of tea for the both of you and an open heart to listen to all of your deepest anxieties that you were anxiously waiting to pour out to him. You both went to sit in the window seat, backs against the adjacent walls of the alcove with your legs pulled up just barely enough to keep from touching as you faced each other, the sun shining in a beautifully painted backdrop.

Taehyung didn’t rush you, but instead waited patiently as whatever had happened last night seemed to still be difficult to bring up. “Your friends seem really nice,” you said with a smile, eyes focused on your hands clasped around your knees bringing them closer to your chest. “I wish I had someone like them.”

“You have me.” There was no hint of a joke in his answer making it feel all the more genuine and comforting as the softness of his voice caressed your ears.

You bit back a smile and looked up to find his intense gaze already on you, though it softened with one glance at your shining eyes. “Yeah, I do.” The moment began to feel too tender, too raw, and you became too scared to look deeper into his eyes, fearing you would fall into them with no way out if you stayed a moment longer. You tore away and your eyes traveled to the floor just beside you as you sighed, “I wish the princes were as easy to talk to as you.” You were searching for a way to break the news of what Prince Hoseok had asked you the night before, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it on your own. “I don’t know how I’ll ever choose from people that I really just don’t know.”

Taehyung heard your voice begin to waver and he quickly wanted to put a smile on your face, so in a panic he tried to joke, “Well, you should choose soon before they all run away.” He immediately regretted what he said and was sure it was a mistake, but his heart was calmed when he saw you crack a smile.

“Hey!” you shouted at him, grabbing the nearest pillow and hurling it at him in retaliation. You laughed as his eyes were widened with surprise at the hefty blow from such a soft pillow before he joined in your laughter, relieved he hadn’t made the situation exponentially worse. He took a moment to examine the pillow, picking it up from where it landed beside him. He pulled at the loose fabric, questioning, “Why is there a huge hole in this pillow?”

You chuckled and snatched it back with a devious glint in your eye, giving Taehyung high expectations for your explanation. “That’s where I used to hide my books from Namjoon’s library when I was sneaking out into town before you came along.”

“That was probably the most anticlimactic excuse I’ve ever heard,” Taehyung deadpanned, although he should have seen it coming from a princess with such a sheltered life as you had always lived. Things like that were exciting, despite how boring they seemed to the average man. You threw your head back laughing, nodding in acknowledgement of his point as you realized it really was as boring as he made it out to be. Taehyung’s boxy smile appeared as he admired the genuine joyful stretch of your lips that he had been deprived of for the past few weeks due to the immense amount of stress you were under.

You suddenly stopped and zeroed in on the top of Taehyung’s head finding a small piece of stuffing from the pillow resting on top of his hair. He frantically questions you as you lean over and reach you hand out, his head flinching away in confusion from your sudden action. You ran your fingers through the strands of his hair to brush it out, secretly admiring the softness of it beneath your touch, a feeling you were always curious to discover. After that, you couldn’t resist letting your eyes get lost in the beautiful landscape of his face, the deep brown of his eyes drawing you in once again. Luckily, he didn’t catch it, however, because he himself was occupied with doing the same, entranced in the way your lips parted innocently and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to feel the way they moved with his own. His tongue poked out to run across his dry lips as his eyes went to meet yours while yours flicked down to follow the action. He wouldn’t have to wonder what your lips would taste like for much longer as you both inched closer, completely forgetting about who you were and instead only thinking about who you wanted to be.

You were mere centimeters apart before you gasped, finally coming back to your senses and hastily pushing yourself away from him. You stood up and worriedly straightened out your dress as you paced further away from him. You couldn’t believe you let yourself cave in and slip up so badly. If anyone had seen, you would be in deep trouble, and Taehyung would be killed. But everything is alright because no one saw and no one knew. And no one would ever find out. Only you and Taehyung would know. Just the two of you. But also the knight that had been standing guard outside your door who was ordered to keep an eye on you, and when the voices in the room disappeared and it was eerily quiet, he silently opened the door, and saw what no one was ever supposed to see.

And because of that, the one person that had the power to ruin everything would come to know of your horrible mistake as well.

After the almost-kiss you and Taehyung shared only a day before, you were faced with great difficulty in being in the same space as each other. There were too many words that needed to be said that were being pushed away as if they had no meaning. If only you had swallowed your fears and confessed to him all that you desperately needed to say before it was too late.

You spent a sleepless night, switching back and forth several times between lying in bed and sitting back in your place at the window, replaying the scene that prevented your sleep over and over in your hyperactive mind. You finally woke up only slightly before midday, regretfully pushing yourself up into a sitting position to scan the room in hopes of finding Taehyung somewhere within it, ignoring the fluttering of anxiety in the pit of your stomach. Your head ticked to the side when you saw he was nowhere to be found, so you threw the blankets off of you and forced yourself into the unwelcoming day.

You hurriedly dressed yourself without waiting for the presence of your ladies-in-waiting and quietly creaked open the door, finding Taehyung was not standing outside as you had hoped for either. A frown overtook your softly hopeful features as you ventured out into the hallways of the palace. You noticed each time you passed a maid or servant they would glare timidly at you until you were out of sight around the corner of the hall, only for you to encounter the same actions from other workers in the castle.

Without realizing it, your feet had led you all the way to the barracks, still in search of your knight, although you weren’t quite sure where this confidence had originated from considering you were practically praying for Taehyung to leave just yesterday. You didn’t mind the knights that stopped and dropped to their knees at the sight of you this time, setting yourself on autopilot towards the barrack you made sure to remember the path towards. You found yourself hesitating just before you reached the door, unsure why your fearlessness wavered, only a wave of uncertainty flushing through you for a moment, but you pushed onward and gave the worn down door a firm knock.

You were met with the same big and timid eyes of Jungkook as he opened the door for you, hurriedly letting you in with a clearly alarmed demeanor. You assumed that was just him acting like himself, but you realized something was wrong when Jimin’s familiar face was unrecognizably tensed. “I-I came looking for Taehyung,” you stuttered, suddenly overcome with a very bad feeling.

Jimin’s eyes widened more than they already had been, walking over to you with concern. “Have you not heard? He was put in the front lines of the troops at Ambrosia Field.” The words terrified you as soon as they left his mouth. You remembered from that time before you had even met Taehyung that things were ugly and the fearful soldier that came to your father for help claiming your kingdom’s men were being slaughtered there. And now, Taehyung was thrown full force into the mess of it all.

You felt as if the breath was knocked out of your lungs with the blow of the news and you began to assume the worst. “The front lines?” you gasped in horror. “But... He could get hurt!” You couldn’t bear the picture that painted itself in your mind, overpowered by shades of crimson as you imagined Taehyung leading the troops in battle. Your hands came to grip at your hair harshly as you felt guilt flow all the way to your fingertips. He must have lost his place as your knight because he was caught doing something he shouldn’t. “This is all my fault… Someone must have seen. This is all my fault!”

Jungkook immediately rushed to your side as you dropped to the floor, gravity becoming too harsh a competitor to deal with on top of the fear within your heart. Jimin followed his younger friend, attempting to calm you and asking, “What did someone see?”

You finally regained control of yourself, though still unable to pinpoint the origin of your sudden composure. You dropped your hands back to your sides and stared vacantly ahead. “We almost kissed.”

Suddenly you were running back to the castle. You weren’t even sure how it happened, and you didn’t even remember saying goodbye to the boys and for all you knew, maybe you didn’t. The only thing you were positive of was that you looked just as much of a mess as your mind was in the moment.

You wasted no time in flinging open the doors of the throne room, screaming without hesitance, “How could you?”

Your father looked to be expecting your arrival, awaiting your reaction with a stern and stubborn stature, already pushing himself up from his throne. “(Y/n), I should be furious with you. Do you want to throw away all in this kingdom that I’ve built up for you? Your childish actions are completely unacceptable!”

You scoffed, trying your best to hide your tears in front of this man you could no longer call your father, who you had been forcing yourself to call father for years. You knew he was corrupt, but because he was your father by blood, you felt as if you owed it to him to always take his side, even when it wasn’t right. “I’ve done nothing wrong!” you shouted, though your voice wavered and you became even more enraged because of it.

“What’s done is done. End of discussion.” The king’s hardened glare bore into you, mocking you while you struggled to stand your ground, this being the first time in your life you’ve ever gone against him. “And because of your immature decisions, I don’t think you’re capable of choosing a suitor for yourself, so I have decided you will marry Prince Hoseok.”

You wanted nothing more than to lash out, to protest and save yourself from this vicious cycle repeated throughout history, but your feet carried you away before you could do anything. You were still young and you still had many fears, one of them being your father, and even now, standing in front of him made you feel small and helpless and insignificant, just as always. So you ran.

Your tears were uncontrollable, blurring your vision as you desperately needed to get out of the corridor with so many gazes witnessing you at your lowest. Perhaps you weren’t the strong princess and soon-to-be-queen, you realized, as all of your grip on this twisted reality disintegrated before you, and as you reached out to catch its ashes, you gripped onto the sleeve of someone blocking your way. Holding you steady after your harsh collision was Hoseok. You looked up to him, pieces arranging back together as you were pulled back down to earth, and seeing his face made your sobs become even more violent. “I’m sorry, but you are one of the last people I want to see right now.”

He held you back from trying to push past him, lowering himself to eye level with you. “(Y/n), what’s wrong? Is it because your father told you about our engagement?” His face harbored hurt as he assumed this reaction was because you were afraid to spend the rest of your life with someone you would never love.

You ignored his question, sobbing into his arm while Hoseok wrapped the other around you in attempts to comfort you. “He’s going to die.”

Hoseok immediately lifted you up, concern evident, “Who? Who’s going to die?”

You tried to push past him once again, but it was only in vain since your energy quickly depleted due to your panic. You didn’t even have the energy to cry anymore, realizing the tears suddenly stopped flowing. Finally saying the words you feared to voice finally out loud made your anxiety become an empty feeling. “Taehyung.”

Hoseok’s brows creased in thought, and also due to your sudden calmness. “Who is—Isn’t that your knight?”

You gave a weak nod, not worrying about keeping this a secret any longer, for it would be something you would never move past, and you both would be living together for the rest of your lives, after all. “My father sent him to die… because I loved him.”

Hoseok looked hollow for a second, and you almost mustered up the strength to feel guilty when you knew he had expressed his feelings for you before, and this proved there must have been some authenticity to them. Suddenly, you had a realization. This was all too familiar. Your mother had told you a story when you were young, and she had made sure this recounting was kept secret from your father. It was a story of a prince who fell in love with a princess, but the princess was in love with a swordsman. Your father was the prince, your mother was the princess, and the knight was…

The blank ceiling of your bedroom suddenly displayed abstract shapes that your dried eyes tricked themselves into seeing. There was a good chance you had been staring for several hours, but you weren’t entirely sure. The sleepless night dragged on for what felt like a century. Though you could not actually bring yourself to sleep, your eyes drooped as it had been a week since you could sleep properly. After all, on nights like these, you would pass the time with the gentle voice of Taehyung, but instead he was the very reason for your sleeplessness. Well… not exactly him, but something far stranger that scared you to your wit’s end. If your theory was correct, your suspicions of your father would be proven correct.

There’s no better time like the present, so you decided it’s time to find out the truth once and for all. This meant you would have to face your father, even though you knew his was the last face you want to see now. Your feet stomped across the expensive carpets in determination, destination set to the throne room where you would once again find your father. Just before you rounded the last corner to enter the main hall, you heard the voice of one of the old maids speaking hushedly with another while they cleaned the unnoticeable dust on the floorboards for the fourth time this week. “Did you hear? The princess’s knight is back from battle.”

Already thumping in anticipation of your interrogation of your father, your heart rate increased dangerously, whether in excitement or fear, you weren’t sure. You hadn’t even registered that you were running in the opposite direction of the throne room. This conversation—anything—could wait until after you finally see Taehyung. Your fear of never seeing him again that persisted all the time he was away was finally dissipating before your eyes. You dodged a door opening just in front of your path, but then you collided with the person who had just come from within that room, and after a moment of inspection, you recognized the familiar features of Jiwoo.

Her eyebrows shot up at your disheveled and breathless form, immediately querying, “Are you alright, Your Highness?”

You nodded excitedly, a wide smile spread across your face while you held onto her arm to steady you. “Sir Taehyung is back from battle!” You loosened your grip on her arm and turned to continue on your path, but before you could take another step, you felt her fingers slip down to grip your wrist before you could tug it away. You turned back and the smile on your face faltered at her uncertain features. “What is it?”

She swallowed tightly, brows still weighed down with concern. “Your Highness, haven’t you heard?” Her head shook in disbelief. “Sir Taehyung is… unwell.” You could feel your heart drop to your stomach. She was vague and clearly had much more to say than she let on, but you got the message loud and clear. Taehyung didn’t come back safely like you had wished for every night before bed, looking out over the expanse of trees where you were sure he would be, leading the troops like the hero he is. You should have known, otherwise he wouldn’t have returned so soon. Without another word, you yanked your wrist free from her grasp and rushed to find Taehyung, changing your destination to the infirmary camp, a ways outside the walls of the castle.

Much to the confusion and dismay of the young stable boy who knew you weren’t supposed to ever take your horse on a ride on your own, you quickly lifted yourself up onto your steed’s back and took off, leaving a few guards who had caught you leaving in the dust. You rode for a few minutes before you finally saw the large white tent with overworked nurses going in and out in a frenzy. You carelessly jumped from your saddle onto the ground, not caring about the splatters of mud that lined the bottom of your skirt. You entered the tent, bumping into a few women in white carrying handfuls of bandages and medicines, who were so busy they probably didn’t even have the time to register you were the princess.

You were horrified at the sights you were met with inside the infirmary tent. There were at least a hundred men splayed out on hospital beds, either covered in blood or coughing it up. Some had missing limbs, and tears sprung to your eyes as you looked closely at some who seemed they may not have been breathing anymore. You were terrified, inspecting every single agonized face, and you never felt more guilty for having the sheltered life you lived, safe and sound inside the walls of the palace while these men fought to the death for you and your kingdom.

As you made your way further into the infirmary, several beds with patients currently being treated were closed off by curtains and it was getting increasingly difficult to find the face of the man you were looking for. Finally, you caught sight of a blond head of hair from behind a curtain that had not been closed all the way. Your hand visibly shook as you pushed the curtain aside to see the face that belonged to the blond-headed man.

And sure enough, there he was, torso and arms wrapped heavily in bandages that were stained red. Completely overwhelmed by the pain you knew he must be suffering, you fell to your knees and buried your face in your hands on the sheets of the bed beside his arm. You heard shuffling from behind and looked to see two nurses returned to his sectioned off area, stopping short in their tracks as they saw you on the ground beside Taehyung’s bed and bow their heads in respect for their princess. You wasted no time and frantically questioned, “Will he be alright? Is he going to be okay?” You had always been taught to keep yourself calm and composed in front of your subjects, but you had thrown all rules you had known to the wind because of your worry for your dear knight.

The nurses glanced warily to each other and one timidly spoke up, knowing you would be unhappy with the answer, “He is in... very poor condition, Your Highness.”

Your breath felt caught in your throat at their confirmation of his fragile state and you could only slowly turn your face back to observe his own, pain evident on his paled face even while slept. “Please leave us for a moment,” you ordered quietly to the nurses while still keeping your gaze locked on Taehyung. They bowed their heads once more before quickly scurrying behind the curtain. “Taehyung...” the sound barely escaped your lips in a shaky breath as you ghosted your fingertips over the back of his hand, desperately wishing you could grasp it and never have to worry about being seen and frowned upon. You saw his fingers twitch ever-so-slightly in response to your touch.

He pushed out a labored sigh and winced at the movement of his abdomen. “Well, hello there, Princess,” he attempted to speak casually, but the pain in his voice gave him away. His eyes were focused solely on you, though they were half-lidded. He gives a weak smile to reassure you, though the absence of its boxy shape that you had become so fond of makes it more difficult to comfort you.

At the pitiful sound of his voice, you let tears finally escape your eyes and cascade down your cheeks, but you still managed to send a pained smile to your lips. “How can you speak so casually? You could have died.” You chose to ignore the fact that death could still be a possibility. There was no way you would accept that he wasn’t home to stay, especially because, somewhere along the way, he had become home to you. The castle you lived in was merely a building, but he was the safe space that you never were allowed in the palace, the place where you could be wholeheartedly you.

“It would be an honor to die while protecting my princess.” His smile grew as he spoke, into a more genuine one and you felt as if your heart were being pulled in your chest, knowing that he would so willingly give himself up for you. He heaved in another painful breath before asking with hopeful eyes, “Did you find my gift?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, straightening yourself up in confusion. “No. What gift?”

“I left something for you to find in your room before I left, but I had to hide it. If someone else had seen it, I could have easily been beheaded,” he explains, laughing weakly, yet his reasoning left you with several frantic questions. “You should go look for it.”

“I don’t want to leave you.” You mentally cursed yourself for sounding so weak in front of him when he needed you to be strong for him in the moment.

The nurses who had disappeared before pulled back the curtain with medical equipment in hand. “We’re sorry, Your Highness, but he really needs to be treated again.”

You hurriedly wiped your tears, giving Taehyung’s hand a squeeze before standing and preparing to leave. “I understand. Please take good care of him.” You looked back down to where he lied one last time before letting the nurses take over.

You went back to the castle slowly and solemnly, choosing instead to walk beside your horse and lead him by the reins to prolong your journey back. You finally reached the inside of the building, then you ascended the first, then the second staircase up to you bedroom. You finally stopped to take a breath after holding it for far too long just after you had slammed the doors shut behind you, locking the door to prevent anyone else from entering.

Your tired eyes carefully scanned your room in thought, everything looking as pristine as always. Suddenly, it was as if a switch had flipped inside of you. You had to know what it was that he left for you. You began to tear the place apart, ripping the pillows and blankets from your bed, throwing aside all of the expensive dresses hanging in your closet, but wherever you looked, there was nothing unusual there. Where would Taehyung have put something that he only wanted you to find? What’s a special place in this room that only you would think to look? Your eyes that wandered around the room eventually fell on the window seat, where the both of you had sat and talked and reminisced and quarreled and experienced so many emotions together. It had to be there somewhere. You checked all corners and underneath each pillow, but saw nothing. As you threw down the last pillow you had lifted, it made an unusually loud thud as it came into contact with the wooden floor. As you examined closer, you found it had been the ripped pillow, the one with the hole in its seam. The one with a hole big enough to hide something in it! You scooped up the pillow once more and tore out all of its stuffing, finally finding the source of the loud sound the pillow had produced. When you finally fished it from the remains of the pillow, you pulled out a simple leather bound book. You carefully untied the strap holding it closed. You flipped slowly through the first few pages, then quickly through the rest as you discovered it was simply empty, and you almost missed the note written on the very last page of the book. It read:

I’m sorry this was all I could give you as a possible forever-parting gift. I know how much you love books, so I gave you an empty one where you could fill it up with your own story, just as you’ve always dreamed. It doesn’t matter that it’s not what you should be doing, but you should do it because it’s what you love. Promise me you will live your life without hesitations from now on. I don’t want you to be sad anymore. If I haven’t come back to you by the time you have found this, that probably means I won’t be coming back, but don’t be sad for me. I don’t want to see you cry from where I am looking down on you. Just know that I’m with my father again, and I’m telling him all about you and how much I loved you. I wish you nothing but happiness for the rest of your life, as much happiness as you were able to give me.

-Taehyung

You had trouble reading the last few sentences as your tears had partially blinded you. He really thought there was a chance he would never see you again, and this was all he was able to do to say goodbye. Most importantly, though… he said he loved you. Now, after days and weeks of agonizing over these feelings that confused you and that you were so sure you were definitely not allowed to feel, you knew now that there was no denying that you loved him, too.

Days had passed and you were still visiting Taehyung everyday in the infirmary. You had to request something extremely important of him before time ran out since the wedding seemed to be fast approaching, but you couldn’t let anything weigh heavily on his heart until he had healed a considerable amount. Taehyung finally was back to his alert and spirited self, although still bedridden, and you decided it was time to finally push the pressing issue to him. Your hands trembled and he noticed, reaching up to steady them within his own.

“I can’t live like this, Taehyung. I can’t stay here and live without the person I love. Run away with me.” He had told you he loved you in the message he left for you, so why were you so afraid he would turn you away? You anxiously scanned his features for any hint of a response. The sharp motion of his eyes had nearly given you a heart attack, yet they were still soft. He was shocked to say the least, but his wide eyes soon left the gaze of your own as they slid to focus behind you. You heard the clearing of a throat from just a few feet behind you and you jumped, seeing the unexpected visitor. “Prince Hoseok! What are you doing here?”

He had an small, ingenuine smile dancing across his lips, signaling he had definitely heard your request for Taehyung. “They told me I would probably find you here.”

He trailed off and the silence became tense. “...I’m sorry.” It was all you could say. You knew it must be hurting him, but he was a dear friend and nothing more.

“It’s alright. I had suspected something between the two of you for a while.” His eyes flicked over to Taehyung’s form still laying on the bed, watching the both of you closely. “I know that you’ll never be able to love me like I had hoped, but I want to help you. I want you to be happy, (y/n).”

You entered through the large doors of the throne room just behind Hoseok who had led the way with determined eyes, yet secretly still with a heavy heart. “Prince Hoseok. This was unexpected of you,” your father acknowledged him before shifting his gaze to you just behind the prince, a limping Taehyung with his arm hooked around your neck. You insisted that he should stay in the infirmary, but he stood firm in his claim that he should be there for you when you finally stood up to the king. Said man’s brows turned down in anger at the sight of Taehyung’s grimacing face. “Why is he here?” he spoke now directly to you, slowly so that he could vainly attempt to conceal his rage.

Hoseok put a stop to the thick tension in the room by directing the king’s attention back to himself. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but I need to let you know about this sudden change of plans.” Your father’s eyebrows shot up. “I cannot marry your daughter if I cannot make her happy. I’m afraid I must call off the marriage.”

Your father quickly rose from his seated position. “She has to marry you. That isn’t her choice. It’s for the good of the kingdom!” his fist was now tightly enclosed and shaking wildly in the air in your direction.

“I love Sir Taehyung, Father.” You had not spoken with nearly enough courage, your voice coming out as meek as a mouse in the presence of your vicious feline of a father. His panicked eyes were on you once again in a mere moment, causing you to jump. Taehyung straightened himself up at your sudden jolt and placed a protective and comforting hand on the small of your back.

With a pretentious laugh, the king spat contemptuously, “Are you really going to tear down this kingdom I’ve worked all my life to improve upon because you think you’re in love? You don’t even know what love is, (y/n)!”

Before you could shrink any further you straightened yourself and attacked him with the words you had been waiting for him to hear for a while now. “No, you are the one with no capacity to love. You thought you loved mother, but you made her suffer by murdering the man she really loved, didn’t you? He had already moved on and started a family, but you knew mother still didn’t love you, so you did the only thing you could think of and sent him to die!” you screamed at your father. Taehyung’s hand had slid down into yours and squeezed it tightly. You looked over to his face which showcased all of the fresh scars of his past still burning deeply as they were brought up in front of him, and finally your suspicions were confirmed. “That was Taehyung’s father, wasn’t it? And you were going to take Taehyung’s life in just the same way, by having him slaughtered on the battlefield!” You desperately didn’t want Taehyung around while you dug up these buried griefs and practically threw them back in his face, but your father needed to know that you weren’t ignorant. Rage for your mother, Taehyung, Taehyung’s father, and everyone your father had ever hurt, everyone these horrific laws ever damaged burned within you. “You are a murderer!”

Your father’s confidence had disappeared only several words into your accusations and he was now the most humiliated and vulnerable you had ever seen him before, the large man you once looked up to as an ignorant child now shrunk into his seat in shame. He swallowed, slowly letting his eyes fall to the ground just before your feet. “How did you know about that?”

“Mother’s stories,” you finally breathed out the air that had been encased in your dry mouth. “It took me a long time to understand fully what she had been telling me and to piece it all together, but I think I put the pieces together pretty perfectly, didn’t I?” Your father was speechless. He eyed the prince that now stood shocked at the revelation of the king’s dark past. Taehyung breathed slowly out through his nose, the tightened hold on your fingers finally loosening. “Please father,” your voice had softened again. “You say you loved mother, but you made her suffer. If you really love me, let me find happiness. Don’t make the same mistakes again. Our kingdoms have been doing that for far too long.” The king slumped back into his throne, suddenly seeming much less brilliant than it had just months ago, before you had been so exposed to the true light of the world. His knuckles paled as he gripped the arms of the chair for dear life, lost in thought.

...and the crooked-crowned puppet with a stitched smile finally broke free from its strings. The puppet master's control was now nullified and his routines he had performed countless times since its genesis had now come to a close with the red velvet curtains.

The soft brush of lips on your shoulder elicited a soft gasp and the drop of the inky quill from your scribbling hand. As the lips traveled up to your collarbone then to your neck, the girlish giggle that escaped your lips morphed into a satisfied sigh. “Hello, Queen (y/n),” the deep voice rumbled against the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Prince Consort Taehyung,” you greeted. He finally pulled away, causing you to frown up at him from the desk chair you were still seated at. Taehyung gave you a warm smile before examining the mess of your desk in front of you. You saw his eyes stop on the paragraphs written in the notebook and his grin widened, happy that his gift was being put to good use. He saw another book propped up with its old cover on display in the corner and he picked it up, examining it in thought. “Why is this out?”

Reaching out for it with a smile, only for him to pull away from your stretched hand, you chuckled, “No reason. Just some reminiscing, I suppose.”

“You’re not still letting this story get you down, are you?” he questioned worriedly, turning his back to you and heading for the wooden bookcase.

You laughed and stood from the chair to follow close behind him before placing your hands on his shoulders and peeking on your tiptoes at the old book that held a different, but still special, meaning to you. “Of course not. My fear of history repeating itself was definitely not what made it my favorite book.”

He gave you one last glance over his shoulder and a smile he was holding back was all too evident in his eyes. “You’ll never have to worry about this happening to you ever again. You know that, right?” He placed the book back in its place on the shelf, then he turned around, snaking his arms around your waist while yours encircled his neck. “I’m not going anywhere.” You squinted at him in distaste for his sudden cheesiness, but still swooned nonetheless. His eyes flicked suddenly just behind you and with a lick of his lips, he retracted his statement. “Actually, I will go somewhere. To that bed. With you.”

He quickly pulled you along with him to where he sat at the edge of the bed and you stood between his legs, looking down at him with the sparkle of newly found happiness in your eyes. He peered up at you in admiration, bringing you even closer to himself with a tug of your hips. “I love you so much, (y/n).”

You trailed your hands up his chest to rest on his cheeks as you lifted his face to press a kiss to his lips, begging for more as soon as you had to pull away. “I love you, too.” Your eyes crinkled in the corners, giddiness swelling within you at the words that you had heard many times by now but still could never get enough of. With a sigh, Taehyung pulls you down on top of him and pulls the blanket over the two of you just after he hears a knock at the door and the voice of one of your ladies-in-waiting calling out for you.

“I’m sorry, but the queen is extremely busy at the moment and will most likely be occupied until the morning. Please come back at a later time,” Taehyung called out in response. Immediately understanding his implications, your face reddened and you slapped his chest with a slack jaw before you buried your face into him to hide, although there was no need to since it was just the two of you in your own little world beneath the sheets. Taehyung’s mouth became boxy once more before intertwining your fingers with his while connecting your lips together in a passionate embrace once more.

You were simply a hollow, breathing breathing body before you had met him, but he was able to introduce you to depth and genuine life. Although it was safe and comfortable, you were sick of the life you had lived, and Taehyung was the one to show you there was more to the world than jealousy of those who roamed it freely. You didn’t think you wanted what he had to offer and it made you scared that he came in and turned everything upside down, for you didn’t know all of it would work towards the better. And yet here you were, smiling like an idiot, wrapped in the warmth of his arms where you finally felt at home.

#bts #taehyung #bts v #taehyung x reader #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #bts fic #bts scenario #bts oneshot #bts imagine #taehyung fic #taehyung scenario #bangtan #bangtan boys #bangtan sonyeondan #beyond the scene #starryeyedgukk #fic: all too familiar

[littlekatleaf]

Light of Some Kind (f/f, NSFW)

"It was so dark in my mind. She came up to me with the sweetest face, And she was holding a light of some kind." ~ Ani DiFranco, Light of Some Kind Ten years today... ten long years have passed since the day we stood together before our friends and family, before our joining people and pledged ourselves to each other with elaborate vows and more elaborate ritual. The ceremony only echoed the words we had already spoken the night before, with just those closest to us present. Through it all there were stars in my eyes, and I could not see for the dazzle. I am not sure I would have tried to do so, if the choice were mine to make. Perhaps I should have. If I had, would we be here now? I do not know. I suppose it does not matter; we are where we are. The dazzle is gone and I am left alone in the darkness. ~.~ Eowyn laid the quill on the table beside her and closed the book gently. Part of her wondered why she bothered to keep the journal, letters from her heart to be read by no one. Was it silly, a clinging to hope where there was none? She did not know, only knew that the words came, flowing from her and spilling onto the page. If the outlet was not available, she felt as though she would burst.

The single candle cast its pale yellow glow onto the deep blue of the leather cover, which had been coloured with elvish dye. The book had been a gift from Arwen on her wedding day. Eowyn remembered the giving with clarity unusual for the whirlwind of that day. The Queen had sought her out at the party following the ceremony, catching her in a rare moment alone. She touched Eowyn's arm almost shyly, her words soft but intent. "In this day so focused on the 'us' and 'we', I want to give you something that is yours alone. You may share it with Faramir, but only if you choose to do so." She handed Eowyn the book, but did not depart so quickly. Instead she placed on hand gently over Eowyn's heart, her long fingers elegant, her touch slightly cool. Arwen gazed intently into her eyes. It was then Eowyn noticed the blue of the cover matched the blue of her eyes exactly. "Do not lose yourself, Lady Eowyn; there is a fire in you. Tend that fire, keep it safe." Eowyn had nodded, slightly confused, and thanked Arwen for the present. In the excitement of the day and the disorder following the move to Ithilien, the book was lost. Only recently had she discovered it again, and remembered the Queen's words. Now, alone in the castle that was Minas Ithil, Eowyn wondered what Arwen had meant, and if she had known what was to come. It was said that elves could sometimes catch glimpses of future events. Or perhaps it was simply knowledge of life as a married woman. It had been two years since she had wed Aragorn, now called King Elessar. Whatever she knew, or understood then was irrelevant, for it changed nothing. Eowyn had neither heard nor understood the warning for what it was. She took up the candle and crossed the room to her bed. She slid between the sheets, shivering slightly at the chill and blew out the candle. It should have been their bed, but more often than not she lay there alone. Tonight was no exception. There was a litany of excuses - reasons, Faramir claimed - he had to complete various reports, or speak to one of his guards who just arrived, or check on a last minute problem and would be to bed late, he did not wish to wake her; he was feeling unwell and did not want her to become sick as well; he had to wake early to accompany guards on a patrol... there were as many explanations as there were days in a week. Eowyn understood that ruling a realm was never simple or easy, but it seemed that if he loved her, he would find time to spend with her. In the darkness she laid a hand on her resolutely flat stomach and wondered. Perhaps it was this failure, her failure, which kept him from her bed, and her side. Such things had sent better men to seek solace and the possibility of even bastard children in the arms of another woman. Eowyn turned onto her side, curling around the emptiness in her stomach. She desired a child as well, but not for any of the reasons Faramir did. She cared nothing about the continuation of a familial line, a male line. No, what she desired was one who would love her, and one with who she could share her wisdom, such as it was. She longed for a girl, a daughter, who she could train to fight, who she could send to be a Shield Maiden with the camaraderie, the companionship of women strong and beautiful like herself, this would afford. A daughter who could have the adventures Eowyn had dreamed of all her days. Dreams which disappeared like so much mist in the reality of marriage. I fear not death or pain, but a cage; she had spoken the words to Aragorn as they prepared to leave for Helm's Deep, striving to make him understand her desire to fight alongside those who defended her people. He had not understood - had dismissed her concerns as unfounded. He had agreed with her father and sent her away with the women and children and those few men too weak or ill to join the battle. Faramir understood even less. Though they had spent time together in the House of Healing after the Battle of Pelennor Fields, and though he knew her part in the slaying of the Witch King, Faramir clung to the belief that women were fragile things, in need of protection and safety. In the years of their marriage he had refused her any action, any unfettered emotion, anything that was not proper, and not decorous. When she asked to assist in the breaking of new horses, gifts from the King, Faramir refused. When she asked to assist training the youngsters in weapons practice, he refused that as well. If she were with child, the baby could come to harm, no matter that she experienced none of the symptoms of pregnancy and her moon-flow came each month. When she attempted to train with the border patrols, she was sent away. The rigors of training were too harsh for a woman of child-bearing age. Never mind that she had been a Shield Maiden - maiden no longer, he would say. Finally she no longer asked, which seemed to offer him, at least, some relief. Eowyn clenched her hand on her stomach, fingers pressing into the soft skin. Did he see her as nothing more than an empty vessel to be filled with child? She squeezed her eyes shut and bit at her tongue. She would not cry herself to sleep. Not this night, and not again. She would find a way, change would come, it must. Just as she was about to drift, she realized; her flow had not come. It was late, nearly two months late. Perhaps... Clinging tightly to hope, Eowyn fell into uneasy sleep. Through the night dreams drifted through her mind in disjointed images. Pelennor Field surrounds her again, the noise of battle ringing in her ears. The Witch King rises up before her and she reaches for her sword, only to find her hands locked together with silken scarves. She is unable to move, unable to defend herself. His sword begins to fall but gilded bars rise up around her. He is unable to pierce the cage. She is safe, but incapable of leaving the field. She grips the bars, rattles the cage, but cannot break free. Night falls around her, the gloom blotting out the dead bodies, the bloodied ground, the Witch King before her. She tries to sit but the bars of the cage, the only thing she can see in the black, will not allow it. She can merely stand, waiting. Then, through the dark comes a light. She cannot see what casts the light, or who holds it, but she has the impression of eyes - blue eyes - and the cage and scarves fall away. Finally she can move and she does, striding from the darkness toward the light. Suddenly Faramir looms in her path, sword in hand. She raises her own sword in defense and the blades clash. Bright sparks leap from the metal and he knocks hers away. As it falls he steps forward, sword to her midriff. "Go back," he says, voice barely more than a growl. She shakes her head; she will not retreat. There is no fear in her heart, only determination and a fierce joy as she takes another step forward, impaling herself on his sword. Blood pours from the wound, staining her dress and her legs a shocking red. Eowyn woke with a gasp, the dream still holding her tight in its grasp. Her abdomen ached fiercely, her head throbbing in time to the pain. She put a hand to her stomach, had she been wounded? No... and yet something was wrong, very wrong; there was an awful slickness between her legs. She reached down, hand coming up wet with blood. Nausea rolled through her in an oily wave and she swallowed against it. Heart pounding in her throat, Eowyn gripped the covers and pushed them away, revealing her legs and bed-dress both stained red as the blood in her dream. Carefully she swung her legs to the edge of the bed. Help, she must... She tried to stand. Her legs would not hold her. As she slid to the floor, the darkness of her dream suffusing her vision, Eowyn wondered if this was the way free. Through the emptiness where she floated, unmoored, Eowyn thought she heard someone calling to her in a voice seemingly infused with the music of silver bells. She could not understand the words, but the simple sound of them gave her a measure of peace. Curious, she struggled to follow the voice, allowing it to lead her through a labyrinth of sensation - pain low in her belly, nausea, headache, bright light, too bright as she blinked and opened her eyes. It took a moment for her surroundings to solidify and become clear, her head still swam. Suddenly she realized she was in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar bed. Sunlight streamed in through the window across from where she lay and as she struggled to sit up, she saw not the plains of Ithilien, but the courtyard of Gondor. What had happened? "Lady Eowyn, please lay back. You have been quite ill." A gentle hand closed over her shoulder, urging her down into the softness of pillows and bedding. The Queen, Arwen stood beside her, concern shadowing the blue of her eyes. "Why am I here? What" Eowyn's voice was rough in her ears after the silk of the other. She cleared her throat, but it did not help and she fell silent. The room seemed to be turning slowly and she closed her eyes against the dizziness. "You needed healing and your people did not know how to help you, so they brought you here to me." "Healing?" Eowyn echoed, attempting to understand. A particularly strong wave of dizziness washed over her, and she moaned softly. The Queen laid a hand over her forehead, her touch cool against the heat of Eowyn's skin. "Yes." There was hesitation in her voice and for a long moment silence fell between them. The Queen stroked her forehead gently. "I was bleeding" Eowyn said slowly, as memories attempted to surface before drifting down and away again. Her mind felt swathed in cotton. She gazed at her in confusion. "Yes." Again the hesitation after the affirmation, but then she spoke and her eyes were full of pained understanding. "Eowyn, your child was lost." The words sliced through the numbing haze and Eowyn's eyes widened. "My what?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper. "There was nothing I could do to save her; she was too young. I did what I could to save you," she replied. "You should not have." Eowyn's eyes drifted closed, the darkness pulled her under and she welcomed it, opening her arms to embrace it. She may have attempted to save her, but she would not return. There was no place for her here. Suddenly light flared through her mind, sending the darkness skittering to the corners of her mind. "No. You will not do this. Come back to the light, Eowyn. Come back to the living. This is not a choice you should make." The Queen's voice rang through her thoughts, the strength in it like the blade of a sword. It was not a voice that could be refused. Eowyn blinked. Forced back into herself, she turned her face into the pillows. She wanted nothing more than to block the light but it was inside her. "I can't," she said. "You can and you must." The bed dipped slightly as the Queen settled beside her. Though Eowyn did not open her eyes, she could smell her, a sweet scent like lily-of-the-valley. Like her mother, dead for many years. Like safety. Without thought and unheeding of propriety, Eowyn buried her face in her skirts. "Why," she asked, tears filling her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. The fabric beneath her cheeks grew damp and still she cried. "What did I do? Why did I lose my daughter?" The Queen did not answer right away, as Faramir would have, attempting to silence feelings he did not understand. Instead she simply rubbed one hand over her back in slow movements, giving her the chance to spend her tears. When the sobbing had quieted, she spoke. "It was nothing you did or did not do, Eowyn. The child was not strong enough to cling to life and so it needed to return to the halls of your ancestors. She will await another chance to return to this world." Suddenly remembering the person she clung to was the Queen of Gondor and the daughter of Lord Elrond, Eowyn pulled away abruptly, attempting to smooth her hair and bring herself back into some semblance of order. She was a Princess herself, and should not be acting like a spoiled child. A hot flush stained her cheeks. "Excuse me, my Queen. I have behaved inappropriately. Please accept my thanks for your healing, and my apologies for my actions." The Queen shook her head. "There is no need for formality or titles here, Eowyn. I am simply Arwen." Despite herself, Eowyn nearly snorted at that. Simply Arwen; there was never simplicity about her. Even here in the House of Healing, surrounded by drying herbs and sickbeds, enclosed in a house of stone she retained an air of magic, of promise, of something more. Her eyes shone with a light that warmed Eowyn, even in her grief. Eowyn nodded. "Thank you... Arwen." A smile touched Arwen's lips. "You are most welcome. Now you must rest. You shall remain here until you are fully healed. Shall I bring you pen and paper later that you may send Faramir a letter, informing him you are here? Or shall I send a messenger to Ithilien immediately?" Eowyn shook her head, wishing she would not have to ever tell Faramir. It was not that she could not bare children, she simply could not carry them. "No," she said softly. "He is away on some affair with his men. I know not what. I am certain I will return to Ithilien before he does." Arwen nodded. "Very well. Rest, pen-neth. I will return later this afternoon to see how you fare." And with a rustle of skirts and a small smile, she was gone. Eowyn curled onto her side, facing the doorway through which Arwen had disappeared. She reached out with one hand, touched the place on the bed where she had sat. It was still slightly warm, and the lingering scent of lily-of-the-valley kept her from feeling so alone. Though she was certain she would be unable to sleep, the instant her eyes closed, she drifted away. In the days that followed, as Eowyn slowly healed and regained her strength, Arwen spent much of her time at her bedside. Usually she would respect Eowyn's silence, spending her time reading or sewing or answering any number of petitions for her intercession in one dispute or another among her people and the elves. It was during one of these latter times that Eowyn was first willing to speak, drawn out of her reticence almost against her will by curiosity. Arwen had resumed her normal seat at Eowyn's bedside, but instead of a book, she held a scroll. Eowyn watched from the corner of her eye, though she seemed to keep her gaze focused on the small square of the courtyard visible through the window. After her greeting Arwen did not speak, merely studied the scroll, then retrieved a quill and began to compose a response. What could she be writing, Eowyn wondered. It could have been a letter, but she had seen the seal of Gondor affixed to the top of the scroll. Official business, then. Unable to contain her curiosity, Eowyn blurted, "What are you doing?" Arwen glanced up from the scroll and for a moment, Eowyn thought she caught the slightest hint of triumph in her eyes. "There is a dispute between a steading peopled by Men and another peopled by Elves. It seems as though both groups have laid claim to a piece of land - the Elves to harvest the nuts from the trees, the Men to plow the land for field. They have written for my dispensation." Eowyn's brows rose. "King Elessar allows you to take part in the ruling of his land?" "Why would he not," Arwen replied simply. "It is not his land alone. We are King and Queen. We rule together." "Faramir has never requested my thoughts on any matter, large or small." "Then more the fool is he to ignore the wisdom you offer." Eowyn felt a heat rising to her cheeks and she returned her gaze to the window, ending the conversation. But she could not contain a tiny spark of pleasure at the kindness in Arwen's words. From that day on, Arwen attempted to engage Eowyn in the affairs of the lands. She would explain the complication, and then they would discuss the matter together. At first Eowyn was reluctant to offer her thoughts, but Arwen questioned her so astutely that soon she found herself opening up and discovering insights she never would have imagine within herself. Unlike Faramir, Arwen was generous with her compliments and encouragement, and Eowyn never felt stupid, though the Queen's intelligence far outshone her own. There was something about Arwen's attention, unwavering yet unobtrusive, that allowed her to feel herself unfurling like a bud beginning to stretch into flower. As the days passed, Eowyn found herself looking forward to Arwen's visits. She even lay awake nights thinking over some particular witticism or comment Arwen had made and attempting to remember some tale or song that might bring a smile to her lips. The Queen was always stunning, a creature of the twilight with the moon-paleness of her skin and night-sky of her hair, but when she smiled she was radiant. Eowyn enjoyed nothing more than coaxing the smile from her. She was like none other that Eowyn had met. She was quick to smile, quick to laugh and slow to anger or a show of bad temper. Though the King had been absent during the fortnight of Eowyn's stay so far, she had never caught even the smallest hint of displeasure at his absence. It was nearly enough to make her feel quite inferior, but Arwen was never superior or condescending. She was, as she had said, simply Arwen. Still, for all Arwen encouraged Eowyn to speak, to share things about herself that she shared with no one, the intimacy was rarely returned. Eowyn found the few questions she did ask deflected so adroitly that she noticed only later, usually when she was alone again, that Arwen had not answered. The Queen wore her mystery like a cloak, and as days passed, Eowyn found herself desiring to penetrate that mystery to meet the woman beneath. Late one afternoon, Eowyn found herself shifting restlessly in the bed, unable to get comfortable. Arwen had not been to visit at all, and when she asked the serving woman who brought her lunch about the Queen, the woman had replied that she was otherwise occupied and offered no further explanation. Eowyn was bored, restless. She had not been out of bed in more than a fortnight. She felt healed, felt strong; it was time to be up. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and carefully stood, one hand on the headboard, just in case she was weaker than expected. Her legs were shaky, but they held her. She moved slowly across the room to a basin and a pitcher of water and washed her face and arms. She would prefer a bath. While the healers' ministrations kept her from smelling rank, she did not feel fully clean. She would find Arwen, thank her for her attentions and seek out the baths. Glancing in the mirror, she was slightly dismayed to find she had lost some weight during her illness. Her cheeks were pale and gaunt, her eyes dark rimmed. Frowning in displeasure, she straightened her hair, then shrugged at her reflection. Nothing she could do about it. Unable to find her clothes, she took up a knitted woolen blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. Still moving slowly, Eowyn left the healing rooms, her bare feet making no sound on the stone floor. Though she passed several people in the castle, none seemed to take undue notice of her wanderings. She could have asked any of them where the Queen was, but she was enjoying exploring on her own. It felt good to be walking again, even this small amount. She passed the kitchens, the servant quarters, the guest quarters and finally found her way to the main house. She turned a corner and found a door that was slightly ajar. Peeking inside, she realized it was the library. Leather bound volumes and cubbies of scrolls lined the walls. There were several chairs and tables scattered through the room, but no one occupied them. There was a huge fireplace set in the far wall and, beckoned by its promised warmth, Eowyn slipped into the room. She made her way to a small couch positioned carefully to receive the maximum warmth of the fire, but still allow one to look out the window and over the grounds and mountains of Gondor. Eowyn curled into a corner of the couch and gazed out. It was a gray day, clouds hanging low over the land. Rain spattered the glass in fits and starts and she could hear the wind whistling in the chimney. The storm outside and the fire inside combined into a soothing atmosphere and she lay her head on the arm of the couch, yawning. She must have fallen asleep because she did not hear the door open, or anyone enter the room, but when next she looked up, Arwen was curled into the other corner of the couch, head resting on one arm, gazing into the fire. She did not wear the normal ornate robes of office, but instead a simple dress. It was still made of the finest cloth, and the maroon dye was the richest hue. She also wore not the silver circlet, which named her Queen and her expression was unusually distant and melancholy. Without moving, not wishing to startle her, Eowyn said, "You seem sad." "My father has decided to pass into the West," Arwen replied softly. "He wearies of life in Arda, and desires to see my mother once again." Eowyn had never met the Lady Celebrian, wife of Lord Elrond, but she had heard tales of her valor, her beauty and her honor. She had been a great Lady, both wise and kind. She held her tongue, allowing Arwen the space to speak or not, as she desired. As she had offered Eowyn so many times. "He will not wait to see me age and wither," Arwen continued and Eowyn caught the bitterness in her tone. "He believes you made the wrong decision, even now," Eowyn could not keep from asking in some surprise. Faramir had forged a friendship with the King and early in their marriage he spoke of Arwen and her decision to forfeit her elven immortality to embrace the mortality of her husband. For the first time Arwen turned to meet her eyes, the blue shimmering with unshed tears. "He does. Though I am mortal, my life will be long according to Mens years and he believes Aragorn will die before I do, leaving me bereft." "It is ever the danger of womanhood," Eowyn agreed. "We are kept 'safe' behind stone walls but we send our hearts into danger, perhaps never to return. And what good is safety then?" But Arwen shook her head. "Aragorn holds not my heart." Eowyn's eyebrows raised, and unaccountably, her stomach clenched as though with fear, and something more. "You do not love him?" "I do; simply not in the way you mean. We have known each other for many years, have loved for most of that time. But when I met him, we were both young and naive. We believed ourselves in a myth, a tale, destined for each other, willing to pledge forever when we knew not who we were, or what 'forever' meant. In time, we have learned our hearts, and discovered pieces of ourselves we had never imagined. Our hearts' paths diverged, and though we remain together as King and Queen and as friends, we each take lovers elsewhere." Eowyn nodded in understanding. "I believe Faramir and I are on a similar course," she admitted. "I do not believe he knew me when we were betrothed. He longs for a woman who is content to sit with her ladies in waiting and chatter about nothing, to bear babies and wish for nothing more. I am too active, too curious, too frank. I disturb him, and the ladies in waiting do not understand me. They do not understand the blood of the Shield Maiden that burns in my veins, making me restless and anxious behind the safety of walls." "It is not easy to be different from those around you," Arwen agreed. "I may be mortal, but I can not rid myself of my elvish ancestry. I feel the gazes of the men on me, fearful and desiring at once; the cold stares of the women, deeming me witch and fearing me in their own ways. I am too learned for a woman, too strange..." "Never too strange," Eowyn interrupted, anger on Arwen's behalf making her bold. Drawn forward without thought, she cupped a hand to Arwen's cheek and kissed her slowly, the softness of those petal-pink lips sweet against her own. To her surprise, Arwen did not break the kiss, but instead deepened it, responding with an urgency that belied the composure she so often held. Eowyn sighed against her, and moved back. She was startled to discover that a flush had risen in Arwen's ivory cheeks. "I hope you do not feel I was too forward," she said, suddenly doubting. How could she have acted so rashly? A smile crossed Arwen's face, the first Eowyn had seen that day. "No," she said, shaking her head. "Not at all." Despite Arwen's reassurance, Eowyn fled the library as soon as she was able, needing the solitude of the healers' rooms to understand what had passed. Safely ensconced in her cot, wrapped by blankets, Eowyn sat staring out the window, unseeing. It was rare, but not completely unheard of for one to be attracted to similarity, rather than difference. Yet none had stirred her in the way Arwen did... not Faramir, not Aragorn, not any of the other Shield Maidens. What was it that drew her? Perhaps it was the very elvenness that so disturbed the Gondorians, or her sharp wit, or ready smile. Or some heady combination of these things. But what did it mean Arwen was Queen, she merely Princess. And both had appearances to maintain. Eowyn sighed and curled onto her side, absently tracing the blanket's pattern with one finger. She was getting ahead of herself. Who was to say what Arwen felt for her, if anything. The King had been long away, perhaps she was simply lonely. Arwen did not seek her out that evening, nor the following morning. As the late morning faded into early afternoon, worried that she had crossed a line, Eowyn decided to find Arwen, instead. This time she requested her clothing from the healer's assistant. She would not be wandering the palace in naught but a sleep-shift. And if she had damaged their relationship beyond reparation, she would take her leave. She was healed enough of her illness, and with time the grief would fade as well. Following the same path as the day before, Eowyn wandered through the palace. This time she did not get sidetracked in the library or anywhere else. She was determined to find Arwen. At last she glanced out a window and saw Arwen. Her hair was pulled back in the braids of elvish warriors. She had cast off the ornate dress of a Queen, instead clad herself in simple leather breeches and a light undershirt. In one hand she held a long-sword, and as Eowyn watched in some fascination, Arwen began the intricate motions of practice, blade glittering in the sun. There was a door just a few steps away, and Eowyn let herself out into the courtyard, hesitating just at the edge of the practice green. Arwen nodded a greeting, but did not pause in her movements. Eowyn did not mind, she leaned against the wall, the stone behind her warm from the afternoon sun and simply appreciated being outside again. The breeze was cool, but hinted at the coming heat of summer. Arwen's shirt clung to her back and breasts and a thin film of sweat glistened on her forehead and arms. She may have been a Queen, but Arwen would not need guards and defenders. She was quick with the blade and clearly skilled. Her eyes were narrowed with focus, her face set in grim determination and Eowyn thought she never looked more beautiful. Suddenly she noticed another blade laid carefully on the ground beside her. A quick grin crossed her face and she retrieved the blade and strode into the center of the yard, greeting Arwen with a bow. Arwen returned her grin, and her eyes darkened with a feral gleam. Her own warrior instinct awakened, Eowyn raised her sword and metal met metal with a sharp clash, sparks jumping from the contact. Neither spoke, there was no need for words. Instead they circled, thrust and parry, strike and riposte. Blades flashed. Sweat dripped down Eowyn's cheeks and beneath her breasts. It was not easy fighting in skirts, but she did not let them encumber her. Each of Arwen's assaults shook her arms; clearly she did not soften the blows out of some misplaced fear of feminine weakness. Eowyn returned the favor, pleased to find Arwen pressed to deflect nearly as many of her attacks as Eowyn was. They were well matched. Until Eowyn pressed her advantage and Arwen spun away. With a deft flick of her wrist, she sent Eowyn's blade flying from her grasp to clatter to the stones. Eowyn knelt in defeat, heart racing, adrenaline burning through her veins from the fight. Long had it been since someone had truly engaged her in this way. Her breath came in short gasps, as did Arwen's. At the touch of fingers to her chin, Eowyn looked up and into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. Arwen was smiling. "You are a true warrior," she said. "You bested me. What would you claim as your victory price," Eowyn asked, green eyes alight with jest. Arwen did not reply, but bent and claimed her lips. Heat flared between them, and sparks, as though they crossed swords once again. "Come," Arwen said at last. "There is something I would show you." She held out a hand. Eowyn took her hand, allowed her to help her to stand, curiosity and desire throbbing deep in her body. Arwen did not release her hand as they walked, and Eowyn relished the contact. Her earlier questions were irrelevant in this moment. All that mattered was that they were together. Arwen led her across the courtyard and away from the palace. They slipped through a stand of beech trees and then the trees parted, revealing a small pond fed by a rushing waterfall. Sunlight streamed over the clearing, creating rainbows in the mist of the falls. "I thought you might enjoy a swim. 'Twill cool you after the heat of battle," Arwen said. And without hesitation, she slipped the shirt from her head and stepped out of her breeches, revealing herself in all of her glory. Her skin was milk-white, except for the dusky peaks of her nipples. Her limbs were long and slender. As she dove into the waiting pool, she looked like nothing less than a wood-nymph at play in the forest. Slightly more slowly, Eowyn removed her dress. The freckles dusted across her shoulders, and the more rounded curves of her hips and stomach brought a blush to her cheeks. She was Man, through and through. No magic lingered in her. But before doubt could irrevocably set in, Arwen beckoned. Refusing to listen to the voice that told her she did not deserve such a beauty, Eowyn slipped into the water. The cool of the pond caressed her entire body, cooling her just enough. The sun shone over her, warming the top of her head. She ducked under water briefly, wetting her hair to keep it from her face. When she surfaced, Arwen stood close, so close she could nearly feel the heat still rising from her skin. And then Arwen reached out and ran a tentative hand over her cheek and down, skimming gently over her breast, exploring. A trail of chill followed her touch and a curl of desire unfurled through her. Eowyn mirrored the gesture slowly and was delighted at the smile that rose in response. Slowly they came together, limbs entwining, lips met, tongues slid together and Eowyn tasted the water in Arwen's kiss. Cool stream and strawberries on those lush lips. She wanted to drink her down. Arwen's hands caressed her, sliding over her skin and down, between her legs and Eowyn gasped at the sudden surge of pleasure. They clung to each other as though drowning, breast to breast, nipples hard and aching. Eowyn reached down and touched Arwen, caressing the spot that brought such exquisite pleasure. A flush bloomed across Arwen's cheeks and chest, desire setting her eyes alight. They moved together like waves, water lapping their bodies, fingers rubbing, stroking, urging them both higher, deeper, closer And suddenly, with a cry, the pleasure burst through Eowyn in a blinding flash of light and she shuddered under Arwen's hand. Not more than a moment later, Arwen followed, her cries softer, but no less intense. In that second, Eowyn knew the darkness had been banished. She had found her light. ~.~ We stand together on the parapet, you beside your husband, me beside mine. They both have an arm around us, as they gaze into the distance speaking of things that matter to Men. They do not notice our hands clasped behind their backs, the secret smile we share. If they knew, would they care? Probably not. After all, what could women find together? But we know. We found light.

#not snz #fic #LotR

[samesongxox]

Savior: Chapter 1 (Gilded Cages)

So this is just me posting this from fanfiction.net I’m only on chapter 9 so far but after Christmas I’m hoping to pick this back.

Summary: (Hellboy 2019) AKA Turning a New Leaf AKA Good Samaritans Need Love Too. The B.P.R.D is tasked to infiltrate a black market creature trafficking ring led by a powerful warlock. Hellboy rescues Phyrra who is found being held hostage, a slave for her magic. He must protect her as she is hunted by her master and his gang of monsters. (AU where Broom isn't dead/Abe wasn't found)

It will be rated M, it will include violence, swearing, smuttiness, all the good things in life.

Disclaimer: Hellboy belongs to Dark Horse Comics/Mike Mignola, I don't own anything except the AU and my OC's.

"What do you think should be done Phyrra?" The elf glanced up at her master, fighting to remain expressionless. What did she think? She could just as easily laugh or cry at the simple question, but she learned long ago that Elias was not swayed by a simpering female.

His gaze was firm on his most prized possession. As he was a creature of few real pleasures, this little human he caught tickled him greatly. He eagerly awaited her answer.

Phyrra hated when he smirked like that, that horrible grimace. It only meant danger, for her, for everyone in the room; it was only silence save for the humans pained breath and the anxious clacking of Rhys's hooves on the marbled floor, the creatures awaited the elf's answer. 

Resolutely her gaze settled on the bloody man in chains before her master's grand desk, his bald head could barely be seen over the rich oak. The pitiful thing was starting to sob, quiet hiccups of air stealing the adrenaline left in his battered body, sweat tinged with blood trailed down the mans face, giving him the macabre illusion he was crying blood. It was an image too vicious for Phyrra to handle, as she weighed her options for the thing to say that would convince this prisoner to be saved.

"The human is obviously contrite. The inventory lost is pennies, and you have much more to gain from the information this one clearly has about Lazarus…." She tried to read the expression on her master's face, should she continue? Phyrra opened her mouth to do so.

"Noted. Mordecai?"

Her jaw clicked shut, he did not like her answer. Movement began to crawl from the shadowed corner, black grotesque shapes curling down the ceiling like slime. The figure shrunk until it evolved into a vaguely humanesque shape, and it stepped forward; eyes glittered like rubies as its glistening fangs barred in displeasure.

"It's obvious Elias. Let's skin this sack of shit." Phyrra felt her skin chill, the mere presence of the vampire setting her on edge. She hated this, the whole situation. How did she find herself in moments such as this?

The answer was quite simple, she was nothing more than a trophy. She should of said what she knew her master wanted to hear; her damnable pride causing her what would no doubt be a firm punishment, and she stood there hoping she would be having dinner tonight. By far she hated being starved the most.

Her master could not physically hurt her, so of course he had to resort to more creative ways to keep his slave in line.

Phyrra was brought back to reality as her master cleared his throat, obviously ready to give his judgement. His long spindly fingers were steeped together, his black nails clicking slowly, an impression of a relaxed bystander. Phyrra snuck a glance at Rhys and tried not to pity him too much for the dejected look upon his bronzed face, wishing that for once her master could maybe ask the centaur's opinion.

"Phyrra is right. Rhys, take the man to our cages and throw him in with the sirens, they'll have there fun. Once they have finished, bring back what is left of him and we'll see if this lips are still sealed tight." Phyrra stood in silence as the idea that the master agreed with her to not kill a human settled over frayed nerves, she had no way to know how to act in moments as these, the slightest ounce of kindness confusing her more than his normal cruelty could.

Rhys had not taken a step forward before the prisoner jolted up, his swollen eyes rolling to the back of his head, revealing the whites.

"I'll die before I let you take me! LONG LIVE LAZARUS!"

Phyrra couldn't help the gasp as time seemed to slow down, inhumanly quick the man had broken free of his chains, a feat that was thought to be impossible, but quickly it was confirmed this was no normal human as the being flung an unseen object at Elias. The object made contact, causing the warlock to stumble back in his chair, the force of the weapon propelling him backwards over the chair.

In a flash of movement, Rhys was charging towards the human, but could not be as quick as the vampire. Mordecai appeared out of seemingly thin air, wrapped his spindly arms around the neck of his soon to be victim. The pressure applied was quick and precise, the snap resounding in the room, the human dropped from his embrace and silence once again enveloped the room.

Mordecai hissed, furious at the pointy haired bitch and his once almighty friend, so easily swayed by the thought of her magic pussy.

Elias pushed himself off the floor with a grunt, quickly looking to his subordinate to gauge their reactions, feeling the blood drip from the newly acquired cut on his face; to say he was embarrassed was a grand understatement, he was furious. What was once a man, a lifetime ago, was replaced by a monster, Elias didn't get to where he was by being understanding and kind towards his fellow creatures.

Phyrra being the only thing to ever be privy to his altruism, his glorious clavis aurea. He didn't know what he would do if he ever lost her, these recent events cautioning him. It was Lazarus, the swine. He was what was making Elias desperate. He had a proud respectable business and that gargoyle threatened everything he had sacrificed everything for, it simply was not done.

"Mordecai, Rhys. Leave. Now." Mordecai didn't have to be told twice, nothing more than mist in seconds. Rhys on the other hand couldn't stop himself from seeking out Phyrra's eyes, needing her to let him know she was gonna be fine. Not looking at him, she slowly ran her finger across her eyebrow in what looked to be just a twitch, but it was their version of 'I'm okay' and an appeased Rhys left the room. He was much too sweet for this place, she often asked him why he worked for such a fiend.

Blatantly Phyrra realized what it was that hit her master. A fingernail. The human had broken off his entire nail when no one was looking and with a superhuman strength broke his chains, attempting to murder her master with it. Any other situation Phyrra would be laughing in an uncontrollable heap on the floor, still she could feel the smile trying to break on her face. It took her own nails biting into the flesh of her palm that brought it back from the brink of breaking.

"Phyrra, if you'd please?" She took a step forward, already beginning to feel the warm glow on her wrist, a perfunctory glance down saw that everything was happening as it usually did: The golden swirls on her outstretched fingers wiggled and weaved on the surface before slowly rising up off her skin, twirling like spun gold in the air, a graceful shimmer that poured melancholy in her heart whenever she used her people's gift for him.

The tendrils of interwoven threads before caressing themselves onto her master's wound, the healing technique was quicker if she physically touched his wound, however Phyrra spared much effort to remain a distance as often as possible. She loathed the way he looked at her the times her magic danced upon him. The tranquil, admiring way he tried to catch her eye always caused her discontent, like they were friendly enough for her to enjoy having her magic used.

Lately he had been acting very strange towards her. The last few decades they had collapsed into a safe routine, but recently he had begun to seek her out in her alone hours. Phyrra tried to strike up polite conversation, recent transactions at the auctions or the new text she was reading at the moment. Phyrra forced herself to not think of the truth, the tense, revolting feeling she got whenever she caught him staring at her. It was so obvious, but Phyrra was in no position to deny him the day he finally had enough of the charade of her youth.

She was no girl anymore; sure when he had first...'Acquired' her, she was still in her fledgling years. As much a child physically as any human of about 14 years. Those days were behind her however as she grew under Elias's care. As was the way of her kind, her body quickly filled out the long limbs, she reached maturity and Elias was quick to change along with it.

"It is all right pet. The inherent light that lives inside of you is one of the qualities I admire in you." 

Phyrra fought the instinct to jerk back as he ran his nails in a gentle caress across her cheek, pushing some wispy trails of hair behind her ears. She couldn't stop the shiver as he continued across the elongated shell.

"You are in no trouble Phyrra, in fact, I'd like to reward you. After we sup tonight, we shall take a walk and I will present it to you." Phyrra stepped back in instinct as her master stood up abruptly, she did not care for the ruse of his calmness moments after what transpired. She was so use to nothing but fury and scorn from him.

"May I return to my room master?" Phyrra saw the blatant disappointment in his eyes, as she quickly added. "I'm just so very tired after healing you, I'd like to nap before I start our meal."

She prayed that the sanguine of her voice was enough to soothe him as Elias took her hands between him, continuing his unwanted attentions to the tattoo of curls on them.

"...Of course you may." He said it slyly, like there was some secret he held. She didn't care about his tone, internally sighing with relief anyway, she could do nothing but allow him to press his cold lips to her forehead, however unpleasant it felt.

Bowing deeply she scampered away as quickly as she dared with her master still watching. Once in the safety of the quiet hallway, the weight relieved off her shoulders, Phyrra took off in great strides to her room, keeping her feet light as she thought about how she might resemble what a gazelle might look like fleeing a lion. The analogy was not lost on her.

As Phyrra reached her door, she felt her skin turn to ice, something was behind her. Before she could even turn she was trapped against the surface of her entrance to her chambers, looking into the garnet gaze of Mordecai.

Out of the frying pan, it seemed.

"Where do you think you're going in such a rush, little lamb? Couldn't stand to be with your master for another second longer?" Mordecai's cruel smile twisted as he applied more pressure to her neck, ecstatic as her expression remained passive, only feeling the skin around her neck slightly bend to his will. Mordecai found her bodies disposition to damage fascinated.

Of course he does. Phyrra thought in disgust, the horrible thing can only comprehend dealing with pain.

"Mordecai, stop this at once." Brave enough in the moment, fueled potently by her anger from earlier. Phyrra pushed hard with her magic, her robes obstructed the full sight of her glowing body, she manipulated the light to blind Mordecai, causing the creature to hiss as he backed up hastily. Forcing him to cover his skin from the heat akin to sunlight coming from her skin, she quickly turned around, fumbled with her door. Scurrying inside to lock behind her just as urgent, her adrenaline causing her to pant in great breaths.

Mordecai opened his eyes, his hands took most of the damage, he realized disoriented. His senses quickly scoping out the stinking beast Elias kept for muscle, looking amused at the altercation he witnessed.

"You know Elias would have your head if I told him about this?" Mordecai sneered at the half man, without hesitation he called the bluff.

"Go on, tell him you dumb animal. I just might have my own tales to tell, like how I see you coming into her chambers at the crack of mornings." Mordecai loved the instant fear that overwhelmed the beast's face. "Did you think you could get away with it?" The vampire was merciless as he was with anything, his cruel words lashing at the centaur just as sure as if he was whipping him.

"I can still smell the virginity on her so I know you haven't fucked her," Rhys flinched at the language he used, which only gave the leech more pleasure, "but all the same Elias would be very displeased at you."

"What are you… What are you trying to get me to confess to?! I protect Phyrra to protect Elias, I am doing nothing untoward her!" Mordecai cackled as the victory of this interaction was clear, Mordecai didn't know why the animal even tried to get the upper hand on such a superior creature that he was.

"I am just telling you we both have our secrets…"

Rhys watched in horror as the bloodsucker slunk away in the darkness, his terrible laughter echoing in the hallway long after it's shadow was gone. Rhys was a creature of a simple life, centaurs were known for their power, strength, loyalty. He got confused easily with all of Elias's dealings, although he did want to remain in as much ignorance as he possibly could. It was much easier to think of Phyrra as a friend to protect than as a prisoner.

Rhys felt immense guilt, but it didn't stop him from raising his meaty fist, poised to knock on the door, before the strangest sounds reached Rhys's ears. It was a heavy thumping coming from down the hall...What the hell was that? Rhys went to investigate...

Unbeknownst to the activity on the other side of her door, Phyrra slowly moved throughout her spacious lodgings, absentmindedly running the brush she grabbed from her vanity through her wispy strands. She felt disconcerted, something was off but she could not pull herself from her weariness.

She didn't completely lie to the parasite. Using her magic was draining for her, her people's magic was a physical extension to their bodies, as much apart of there DNA as familiar genetics. She undressed without thought, shedding her robes to gaze at herself in the full length mirror hung from her wall, ornate and ancient if the inscription was any indication.

Phyrra knew of the beauty she possessed. She was an elf after all, a creature known for its beauty and grace. Her mother was one of the loveliest of her tribe, she came from a long, long line of powerful elves. She also knew that wasn't what her master wanted from her, it was just the extra incentive that kept her in this prison, the magic in her possession the true prize.

Going through her routine to have a bath, she was just pulling the towel around her body when Phyrra stopped short as she looked around her room, where was Binx?

Before Phyrra could even open her mouth to call for her friend, a massive tremor shivered the floor under her feet, her foolish sensitive ears picked up the sound of what could only be described as a brawl. She heard the sound of flesh being hit and a general white noise of commotion. What was Elias moving? Phyrra was used to the strangest sounds on this property, after all when you have a revolving door of the world's most dangerous beings there was bound to be property damage.

Phyrra needed to find Binx, regardless of what might be on the other side of the door. Not for the first time, Phyrra cursed her master for his hatred of her companion, the one thing left from her free life. She was never to bring Binx into his chambers, or around him, ever since he hit her once and broke her wing, Phyrra made Binx promise she'd steer clear of him, stubborn little pixie.

"Binx are you here?!" Panic began to cloud Phyrra's vision, her previous fatigue dissipated in the horror of her lost friend. Grabbing the doorknob with haste, Phyrra gathered the courage to face whatever was going on in this compound.

The door burst open but Phyrra saw nothing but white.

fin

clavis aurea - golden key (latin)

#fanfiction #hellboy fanfiction #first post #be gentle #writing